Page 35 of Give In

For then.

I’d gone home that night and sat in bed, sleep eluding me as my mind had worked through who would lie.

Maybe one of the other girls had broken the rule, and there’d been some mix-up with the name.

Maybe one of the girls had gotten pissed at the competition, so they’d had a guy make the call.

Or maybe my close call was courtesy of my very own torturer. A little payback for the enthusiastic dance.

I hadn’t intended to say anything to him, but lack of sleep had made me moody and impulsive. I wasn’t saying I necessarily believed his denial, but making unfounded accusations in public had been risky and stupid.

After a few minutes, I packed my bag and headed to his office. I used the walk to clear my head. By the time I reached his door, we had no past. No Sinners, no dances, no silent treatment.

He was simply my professor, and my focus was entirely on my paper.

Nothing else mattered.

It couldn’t.

At my quiet knock, he rumbled, “Come in.”

I opened the door and hesitated.

Maybe no meeting would’ve been better after all...

Sitting away from his desk, Professor Caine’s hands were behind his head and his legs were stretched in front of him.

I’d seen him in the pose so many times, it was impossible not to make the correlation to Sinners.

Start the music.

Sway your hips.

Smile.

Touch.

I tamped down my instincts. It would’ve been easier to ignore him if he weren’t so damn attractive. Everything about him was masculine, powerful, and beyond intelligent. He dominated every space, and his office was no exception. The large room seemed tiny and cramped with him in it.

“Hi,” I muttered, unsure and unnerved.

God, I hate how he affects me.

“Miss Wilder—” he started before noises in the hallway interrupted. “Close the door and have a seat.”

After shutting out the noise, I rigidly sat in the chair in front of his desk. I pulled my bag up onto my lap and fished out my ideas notebook.

“So, does he know?” Professor Caine asked randomly.

My brows lowered. “What? Who?”

“Your boyfriend. Does he know what you do for a living?”

“Brooks?”

“Do you have another boyfriend, Miss Wilder?”

“No, I don’t haveanyboyfriend. But, no, he doesn’t.”

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