Page 57 of Give In

If curiosity killed the cat, then I was quickly turning into Tom fromTom and Jerry.

I just wasn’t sure how many lives I had left before my nine—and my luck—were up.

When I pulled into his driveway, Professor Caine was leaning against the back of his car. He looked almost casual, though I could see he was anything but. Tension marred his scowling face as he watched me park.

I hadn’t even removed the keys from the ignition when my door swung open. Leaning in, he unbuckled me and helped me out before reaching back in to grab my keys, pocketing them.

That doesnotbode well.

“Get inside,” he rumbled.

On principle alone, the wordnohovered on my tongue.

But my damn curiosity got the better of me, and I walked up the path to his opened front door. “What’re the chances I’m getting my keys back if I ask nicely?”

“About the same as you never giving me attitude again.”

“So, not good,” I murmured.

“No, my depraved angel, not good.”

Depraved angel?

That’s new and oddly… flattering.

Rather than question him on the pet name, I ignored it and the warmth that settled in my chest and regions farther south.

When we entered his house, he closed the door and started right in. “Why do you think you’re moving to South Carolina?”

“I was just curious about houses in different areas,” I lied. “I blame my HGTV addiction.”

“Bullshit. Why?”

“I told you, there was this episode ofHouse Hunters—”

The noise of his bag flying across the room and crashing into the wall echoed around us. “Why thefuckdo you think you’re moving to South Carolina?”

My hands fisted at my sides. “Because I am! What does it matter?”

“What do I keep telling you? Watch the attitude,” he warned.

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head in a way that made it clear I was trying to figure out who the hell he thought he was. “So you can boss me around and yell about things that aren’t your business, but I can’t say anything?”

“Exactly.”

I snorted. “That’s not gonna happen. Give me my keys.”

“No.”

“I have to get ready for work.”

He glanced at his watch. “In a few hours. Not that it matters since you aren’t going.”

His tone may have been even, but the thick muscle and pronounced veins in his forearms belied his tension.

“I can’t take a night off.”

“But for Crosby you will? You gave up a Saturday for him.” The anger emanating from him was nothing new, but the hurt in his eyes was surprising.

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