Page 24 of Taken By the Fae

“You have Mondays off,” he observes.

“Yes,” I say, though I don’t think he was actually asking.

“Excellent. I’ll see you every Monday, nine o’clock sharp.”

My stomach flips at the burst of anxious excitement in my chest. “I… Hold on. That’s it?”

He leans back in his chair. “That’s it.”

“What if I don’t want to work under you?” I can’t help it. Despite the alternative internships, I’m not sure I can do this one. Withhim.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone say that to me,” he says with a twist of his lips, and before I can scowl, he continues, “As I said, I’m the last mentor available, so it’s me or nothing. Your choice. But as I recall, you need this to graduate. And as you said, your education is the most important thing to you.”

“I’m going to—”

“What? Tell your program coordinator that I manipulated her mind to ensure she placed you with my company?”

Shaking my head as I step away from the table, I turn my back on this fucked-up interview and head for the door. I’m reaching for the handle when I make the snap decision to decline the internship—I’ll figure something else out. I turn around quickly, only to find myself face to chest with Tristan. His presence overwhelms me all at once. Heat radiates from him, warming my cheeks as I fight to not inhale his scent. I need to keep my thoughts clear.

“What are you doing?” I breathe.

He steals my gaze. “You turned around,” he says, a challenge in his tone.

“You were following me,” I counter, unable to force my eyes away from him.

“And soon you’ll be following me.” He flashes a grin. “Lighten up, Aurora. Your negative energy is ruining this moment. Try to see it as a unique learning opportunity.”

I glare at him. “Are you kidding?”

He raises a brow. “What would you like me to say?” He dips his face closer, and I have to remind myself to breathe. “You’re not making this little situation of ours any easier.”

“You’re the one who waltzed into my life all tall, dark, and…you.” I want to kick myself for letting his proximity cloud my head for even a second.

He leans forward, and I step back until I’m against the door. “I’m almost glad my manipulation doesn’t work on you,” he says in a voice so quiet I barely catch it. “I think that would eliminate all the fun we have.”

I try to shove him back, but it’s pointless. Instead, he ends up closer. “What part of this do you think isfunfor me? You think I go home laughing to myself at how muchfunI’ve had dealing with an arrogant, egocentric fae who could ruin my entire life if he chooses?” My hands are still pressed against his chest.Whyare my hands still pressed against his chest?

Tristan tilts his head to the side, watching me with interest. My chest swirls with nervous energy as my eyes flick across his face.

“I’m not afraid of you. I’m concerned why you’re paying me so much attention. Max was right. If only you could make me forget, then I wouldn’t have the knowledge of your kind, regardless of whatever creepy connection my family has to the fae.”

Tristan seems to consider this for a moment before he says, “If it were possible, would you want to forget?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” I mutter, finally finding the will to pull my hands away and let them fall to my sides.

“I’m asking you.”

“I don’t see that it matters now,” I say.

“Answer the question.”

“Why?” I snap.

He’s quick in sliding a finger under my chin and tilting it until our eyes meet, and my heart slams against my chest. His eyes flit back and forth across my face as I stand there, frozen. The wildness of his irises calms for a moment. There’s a shift, almost too insignificant to notice, but I catch it. For a split second, a pained expression darkens his features. It’s gone before I can understand what it means, and he steps away, dropping his hand and giving me room to breathe.

“I think that answers my question.”

My throat is too dry to speak; my voice will crack if I try, so I stay silent—aside from the pounding of my heart. This interview is over. I reach for the door and step into the hallway, feeling Tristan’s gaze on my back. My feet carry me toward the exit, but my mind is elsewhere. I’m almost far enough away to let myself relax when I hear his send-off.

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