Page 32 of Ashes and Lilies
“Is what okay?” Miles asked, slipping into the seat beside me. He gazed at me with soulful puppy dog eyes, and I couldn’t find it in my heart to tell him to go away.
“Nothing.” I shook my head. Regardless, there was another matter to discuss. “What did you call me?”
“So,” Miles began, not answering me, as he braced his elbow on the table. His lips curled into a shy smile that caused my heart to skip. “I was looking over your schedule last night—”
When did he get ahold of my schedule?
“—and I noticed that you’re taking French,” he continued,
Damen also knew that I had an afternoon class. So, this must be his fault. As someone who was semi-faculty, he probably had access to that database.
His skill for stalking was up to par, at least.
“Isn’t that right?” Miles asked.
Oh, he’d asked me a question. I blinked and forced myself back into the conversation. “Yeah,” I replied. “I decided on French because I’m less terrible at it than other languages.”
“Well, you need two semesters of a foreign language to graduate,” Miles informed me. “I might have to tutor you, otherwise you might not ever get your degree.”
“I see,” I replied. I might need to take him up on that. The foreign language requirement was the weakest link in my academic record. “Maybe,” I promised. “But…”
“But what?” he asked, leaning toward me. I could feel his breath against my cheek and the solid brush of his arm against mine.
I’d made my decision—and I didn’t regret it. But the aftermath of an ugly confrontation and the certainty that the rest of the room was currently scrutinizing us made it difficult to appreciate the moment.
“Hey, Miles,” I began, biting my thumbnail as I allowed my gaze to dart around us. “Are we really friends?”
They’d claimed as such, and I certainly believed it, but why couldn’t I ignore the lingering feeling in the back of my mind that I was missing an important piece of the puzzle?
There was something strange in the way that Miles looked at me then, a glimmer in the depths of his deep, brown eyes that was deeply unsettling. I didn’t like this.
“Of course,” he said. “At the very least.”
At the very least?
I opened my mouth to ask but then closed it as a lump lodged itself in my throat. Maybe I really didn’t want to know the answer.
My last classof the day had been a rather lackluster affair as Bryce Dubois either disregarded my presence or was oblivious to the pointed stare I’d been leveling in his direction the entire lecture. The man remained calm and cool under pressure, and in any other situation, such a trait would be a boon and benefit worthy of the topmost henchman within my future enterprise.
But not today.
How dare he ignore me!
Then, as class let out, he finally met my eyes. And in my true,cowardly fashion, I let out the furious swell that’d been gathering in my chest and ran away.
I fled through the hallway without thinking, and my thoughts scrambled to figure out why Bryce affected me in such a way. It had to be a spell, but I couldn’t help but care very much about what he thought of me.
My skin felt feverish—maybe I was ill.
I was so lost in my thoughts that it didn’t occur to me that I’d traveled in the wrong direction for my meet-up with Damen. My footsteps slowed as I glanced down the dimly lit science building hallways.
Out of habit, I’d begun to go to Professor Hamway’s office.
There was nothing for me there. The last thing I wanted was to see Bryce once more. And now I was going to be late for my meeting with Damen.
This was a terrible way to start my career—good assistants weren’t supposed to be late. Besides, Norman was already waiting, watching for an epic screw-up, before he would swoop in and tell me, ‘I told you so,’ and hold my weaknesses against me.
I had to do a better job at this thing.
