Page 36 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

So many of my peers blew the class off—fudging their numbers and bullshitting their final papers. But I actually did the work. I worked with Wheels of Peace, supporting a financial literacy program to help clients manage their budgets. I won’t pretend it’s enough or that the gap between what they have and my privilege isn’t the size of an ocean, but it’s something, which is more than a lot of people I know would give.

No one except Riale knows about my time there, though. Especially not my father.

“This project is worth fifty percent of your final grade. I suggest you treat it as such. Presentations will be held as part of midterms, and yes, you’ll be pitching to a panel of real investors.”

“Oh, shit,” someone whispers to my left.

Oh, shit indeed.

“I’m feeling generous today, however, so you have the rest of the class to meet with your partners and research. You have three days to turn in a preliminary proposal.”

The groans from the class are loud this time, but Professor Hansen ignores all of us in favor of packing up his leather satchel and exiting the lecture hall as if he hasn’t dropped two weeks of work in our laps for a seventy-two-hour turnaround.

“I’m so for real right now. I’m about to head to my advisor and take the withdrawal on my transcript because this is…”

I don’t turn to look at who’s speaking behind me. Instead, I gather my things and make a beeline for the girl I can’t get out of my head.

The girl who happens to be my project partner.

And maybe, just maybe, this day will turn out to be a good one after all.

8

SHAE

StormfuckingSandoval.

Out of thirty-six other students, Professor Hanson just had to pair me with StormI’m-Gonna-Smirk-At-You-and-Make-Your-Panties-WetSandoval.

Surely, the professor’s a sadist.

The class shuffles out, everyone pairing off with their project partners. But for some reason, I stay seated, not even putting my textbook in my bag.

“So,” a smooth voice says to my right, too close. “Looks like we’re stuck together this semester.”

Stuck together?

I take a deep breath, deciding he probably hates this as much as I do.

And…I do hate this.

Right?

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I say, finally getting to my feet.

I look up, meeting his gaze—and damn, his eyes are even more intense this close-up. Also, he has to be a full foot taller than my 5'3", and his muscles are somehow thicker.

Bet he’s thick everywhere.

I mentally slap myself.

Jesus, Shae. Focus. He barely wants to be here, let alone have you drooling over him.

The AC kicks on with a loud hum, and I flinch, realizing we’re the last people left in the room.

“Library?” I say, quickly gathering my stuff, hoping he doesn’t notice the effect he’s having on me.

“Nothing about working with you is a disappointment, Shae,” he murmurs.

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