Page 121 of They Are Mine

I’m in trouble.

I can’t help myself.

I don’t even try.

As soon as he leaves, I pounce.

I turn to the dreary woman, the one still watching the door like she thinks he’s coming back for her.

Pathetic.

“Who was that?” I ask.

It’s the least smooth I’ve ever been about collecting data. But fuck subtlety.

What am I supposed to do? Just run after him? Throw myself into his arms? Shove him against the nearest desk and climb him like a tree?

God, I should have.

Because what if I never see him again?

My chest tightens at the thought.

I will.

I will.

The woman sighs. Actually sighs.

“Mr. Sterling,” she says.

Her voice holds a dreamy quality, like she’s just been dicked down by the very mention of his name.

Oh.

Oh, I don’t like that.

Bitch is thinking about my Mr. Sterling in ways she has no business thinking about him.

I fight the urge to slam her head into the desk.

Instead, I smile. Pleasant. Friendly. Normal.

“What does he teach?” I ask.

She blinks at me, like she’s just realizing she has a job and isn’t on a fucking date with him.

“He’s the student counselor.”

I tilt my head. “You mean like an advisor for classes?”

Why is she so thick? Just tell me what the man does.

Tell me everything.

“No, dear,” she says like I’m a fucking idiot. “He’s a therapist. Sometimes students have issues, personal issues, and Elliot is amazing to talk to.”

Her voice softens on his name.

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