Page 72 of Give In

Professor Caine was stretched out on my bed, his hands behind his head and his ankles crossed. He looked casual, as if he often rested there. As if his long, built body didn’t look ridiculous on my twin mattress.

“What’re you doing? How did you get in here? Are youcrazy?”I was pretty sure I’d shrieked the last part, but I couldn’t be certain over the deafening pounding of my heart.

“Have a good night?” he repeated, offering no answers or explanation.

After Brooks had dropped me off, I’d crept in quietly, not wanting to wake Tonia. When I’d gotten into my bedroom, I hadn’t even noticed him there as I’d moved to empty my pockets on my dresser.

If this was a horror movie, I’d be dead after the couple hooking up at makeout peak but well before the person who goes down into the basement to investigate the random noises.

My heartbeat slowed just enough for me to speak. “I did. Why’re you here?”

“Because you didn’t answer my calls or texts.”

“To a normal person, that’d indicate someone doesn’t want to talk to them.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m not a normal person.”

I had noticed. And so had all the buzzing nerve endings in my body.

“And neither are you,” he rumbled, his insightfulness tugging at the cover that blocked my mind’s mirror.

I turned away in a desperate attempt to hide all my truths, lies, and secrets. Emptying my pockets, I waded through the thick, dense fog of alcohol and exhaustion so I could deal with the insanity that was my life.

So wrapped up in the impossible task, I hadn’t noticed Professor Caine had moved until his warm breath warmed the back of my neck, causing an eruption of goosebumps to spread across my skin, tightening my nipples. His fingers skimmed down my spine, a shiver following the trail.

Grabbing my hip, he twisted me to face him. He bent to kiss my collarbone, his lips barely making contact before he pulled away suddenly. Danger emanated from him, filling the small space and stealing the air. Even in the lowlight, I could see the barely contained storm in his thunderous eyes. Disgust twisted his expression. “You reek ofhim, liquor, and horny desperation. What’d you do, Eden?”

I pushed my shoulders back in a forced display of bravado. “That’s none of your business.”

“Wrong. What did you do?” he bit out, each word a sharp staccato.

“I already told you, it’s none of your business.”

“Did you let Crosby fuck you?”

“I know you’re smart, so what part of this aren’t you getting?” I snapped. “It’s not your business who I sleep with.”

His fingers laced through my hair, fisting the strands. “Answer me. Did you let him fuck you? Did you let him touch what’s mine?” he roared.

“Nothingis yours,” I screamed back.

“I want to prove you wrong so damn bad.” His face dipped to mine, his lips so close, I could almost feel them.

Iwantedto feel them.

My breath caught, my lids fluttered closed, and I leaned forward, about to lift onto my toes.

But his hold on my hair tightened, tugging at my scalp in a not entirely unpleasant way.

Opening my eyes, I saw nothing but coldness in his as he released me, leaving me off-balanced—physicallyandemotionally.

“I can’t even stand to be in the same room with you right now.” Without another word, he turned and strode out.

By the time I got my bearings enough to follow, I caught up in time to see the door close. He hadn’t slammed it, but the sound still seemed to echo around me. Or maybe just in my head.

Gripping the knob, I wanted to throw it open and yell some more. To tell him to leave me the hell alone. To scream that I hoped I never saw him again. To vow to hate him until the day I died.

To demand the kiss his lips had promised before he’d cruelly snatched it away.

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