Page 32 of Gray Area

I turn around to leave and I see Declan striding up the stairs to me, and everything my head was just saying to me falls away. I see a slight tug at the corners of his lips as his eyes meet mine, and my infatuation firmly roots itself right in my chest, emotions blooming everywhere as I take him in.

As Declan approaches, I am able to appreciate the presence he gives off—dangerous. Anyone that takes one look at this broad-shouldered, glowering man would feel their adrenaline spike and run the opposite way. His shoulders move forward and back as he walks, his hands loose at his side, despite the cold temps. It is as if even the cold doesn’t dare touch him, he gives off such a menacing vibe.

Declan reaches me and studies my face for a beat. “What’s wrong?” he demands, his deep baritone rumbling out and over me.

I shiver then and have no idea if it’s the cold, the fact that he can read my face, or his deep voice licking every sensor in my body.

“The library,” I say, glancing at the darkened glass door. “It’s closed.”

“It’s supposed to be open until seven,” Declan quips as he cocks his head and looks the closed door up and down.

“Something about an electrical issue,” I murmur, taking in his profile. “Sorry you came all the way out here—” I’m cut off as Declan’s gray eyes meet mine, and I shiver again.

“Cold?” he asks, his rumbled voice full of concern.

“No, uh, I am just saying sorry.”

“For what?” Declan asks, sounding almost angry.

“For you coming all the way out here, and now we have no place to actually do our work,” I say bashfully. This isn’t going the way I’d hoped at all. I just wanted to talk to him, get to know him a little better while we did our work.

Declan looks back to the library doors. “Do you want to go get a coffee, and we can talk about this stuff there?”

I’m so surprised by his offer that I stand there with my mouth hanging open for a few seconds. A few seconds too long it seems, because Declan says, “forget it” at the same time that I blurt out, “okay.”

Chapter 15

DECLAN

When we both speak at the same time, Vivian freezes and her cheeks turn pink. She looks down, apparently embarrassed, but I ignore it. She agreed and I’m not letting her back out of it now. I’ve been looking forward to seeing her all day, and I can’t remember the last time I looked forward to seeing anyone. I reach over and take her bag from her shoulders. She lets it go easily, seemingly frozen in surprise by what I am doing.

Once it is slung over one of my shoulders, she scowls at me. “I can carry my own bag,” she tells me matter-of-factly.

“I know,” I say, and angle my head in the direction of the small coffee hut that is on the fringe of the campus. I love it that she gets fired up; I am hoping to see her feisty side again.

She walks beside me silently, continuing to sneak looks at her bag.

The coffee shop is a small octagonal-shaped building, and all the sign on it says is Hot and Cold Beverages. Bells jingle when we enter, and surprisingly, the place is empty. I lead the way to the table farthest from the counter—to give us privacy to work of course.

I gesture to Vivian, who comes over with her head down and takes a seat. I place her backpack at her feet, and I don’t miss the relief in her face when I do. “What do you want?” I ask, mentally irritated at the rough way it comes out, even though that’s just me.

“Oh, I can get myself—”

“Vivian.”

Her eyes meet mine, and there’s some unspoken argument between us. God, I love her stubbornness, her independence. But I am going to win this one. I think my silent stare eventually gets to her, because she relents. “Hot chocolate, please,” she requests.

I turn without another word and order. I like that she knows that by me just saying her name—not shouting or growling, but just saying it—that I’m not going to take no for an answer. It feels like she understands me, and it makes me throb with attraction.

Once our orders are filled, I come back to the table and set down the hot chocolate in front of Vivian. I watch her eyes light up at the insane amount of whipped cream on the top of her drink. A small smile lifts her normally emotionless face.

“Thank you,” she says, quickly schooling her features, but her eyes still have the light in them. I like being able to lift that mask from her face. I love that I have made her happy, and I love seeing emotions from her. It makes me want to buy her another hot chocolate and see it again.

I watch as she takes a sip of her hot chocolate, her tongue coming out and cleaning the whipped cream that has coated her lips. Blood rushes straight down and I try to refocus my mind, try to distract it from where I would love to see her tongue and mouth. I spit out the first thing that comes to mind. “So, why are you taking business classes?”

Vivian’s so deep in studying her hot chocolate, as if planning her best way to have another sip, that she misses my question. “Sorry, what?”

I hand her a spoon, making her eyes shine, and I groan internally. The spoon is for my benefit, because if I see her licking whipped cream off her lips again, I am probably going to get up and kiss her, and maybe bend her over our table. It is what my hard cock for sure wants, but thankfully my brain still has enough blood flow to reason out that being a bad idea. “I asked why you are taking business classes.”

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