Page 42 of Fang
“If they don’t have the self-control to stop themselves from crossing their own personal lines, that is on them,” I tell her.
“I know. Don’t worry about it. I can handle it. I need to get ready for my next dance. Was that all?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Your car will be ready tomorrow. I’ll take you home tonight and grab it while you are in class tomorrow.”
She gives me a small smile. “Thank you, Fang. I really do appreciate it, even if I don’t always agree with your tactics.”
She’s not talking about the car anymore.
Moving closer to her, I cup her cheek. I wipe away some of the makeup that has smeared.
“I told you that you aren’t alone anymore. Maybe the girls hate you, but you have me.”
She looks vulnerable for a moment as she leans into my touch. Then she shutters her emotions as she pulls away.
“I should go.”
I move, letting her stand from the desk. She makes her way toward the door, leaving me there wishing I could still feel her soft skin under my hand.
“I’ll be watching, little dancer.” The words slip from my lips unbidden.
She looks over her shoulder, a smile on her lips. “I know. You always are.”
For some reason, that exhilarates me. I watch her leave, wondering when my focus shifted from solely the club and MC to this little gorgeous woman who I cannot seem to get out of my mind.
“That’s all for today. I’ll see you guys next week,” the professor says.
Everyone jumps up and rushes to the door while I take my time.
“Have a good day,” I tell the professor as I walk past him.
“You too,” he says without looking up.
I want to tell him it’s rude not to look up, but I bite my tongue. The last thing I need is to piss off one of my teachers. Even if his manners are the problem.
As I exit the building, my mind starts to run crazy with all the things I need to do before my next class in about three hours. I need to go to the library to work on a project that I’ve been putting off. Before I do, though, I should probably go grab something to eat.
The problem is I’m not really hungry.
If I don’t grab something, though, I know I will become completely consumed with my project and I won’t come up forair until it’s time to head to my next class. Then I’ll be stuck listening to a professor drone on and on while I feel like my stomach is about to claw itself out of me.
A whistle cuts through the air, but I don’t look up, knowing it’s not for me.
To eat now or risk it…
“Cami!” someone yells.
What the hell?
Frowning, I come to a stop and look around.
When I spot Fang, I can’t help but relax. He’s leaning against his bike with his cut on. His jeans-clad legs are crossed at the ankle. Jesus, does he have to look this good? It’s really not fair. Neither of us tries to hide the fact that we are checking each other out as I approach.
“Hey, how did you know where to find me?”
He shrugs. “I got lucky.”
Sure, and I’m the pope.
