Page 24 of Brambles and Bellflowers
I hadn’t thought much about those words or what they meant since.
“Doesanyonelike Finn?” I pressed my fingers to my lips, my heart pounding in horrible realization. This was heartbreaking, and—despite my best efforts to hold on to my righteous anger—a sense of sadness for my former ex-best friend began to stab at me.
Damen squared his shoulders. His gaze was wary now, appraising my reaction, though I couldn’t fathom what he was waiting for.
“I’m cautious of him,” he said slowly. “But most days, I don’t have a problem with him. Our relationship is complicated.”
“It’s his own fault if nobody likes him.” Dr. Stephens cut into our conversation. “Finn refuses to cooperate with anyone who tries to work with him, and he won’t attempt to act civil most of the time.”
I’d jumped at the interruption, then peeked past Damen into Dr. Stephens’s office. The older professor sat at his wood-stained desk.
I hadn’t even noticed that he was there. Heat burned at my cheeks.
“Are you planning to gossip about Finn Abernathy all day?” Dr. Stephens rested his chin on his linked fingers, shooting the two of us a disapproving glare. “I do have papers to grade. Mr. Damen,”—he turned his attention to Damen and pushed a stack of salmon-colored papers with his elbow—“I need you to deliver these to the registrar’s office.”
“I’m sorry to bother you when you’re working,” I whispered, glancing at Damen. “But I brought you a coffee.” I held out the cardboard carrier.
“Thank you.” Before I could protest, he grinned at me, grabbed the cup nearest to me, and chugged it.
I gaped at him, disbelief rendering me speechless.
First of all, he had grabbed the wrong drink. That was my seasonal treat! Secondly, what was this uncivilized manner of drinking coffee?
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” Damen lowered the empty cup. “Are you hungry?” He touched my shoulder. “I’ll be finished here soon, and then I’ll take you out to eat.”
I wasn’t sure if it was safe to believe him. My hopes had been dashed so many times.
Good food was a memory at this point. With Miles gone, it was a wonder I hadn’t starved. Titus only contributed beef jerky to the hoard, and Julian had his salads.
On the other hand, Damen seemed to enjoy Red Bull and spicy tacos.
It was a miracle that Finn was around to cook.
“You’re too cute not to show off,” he said, tugging on my half-ponytail as his gaze heated, traveling down my form. “I’ll run this errand for Gregory, and we’ll leave.”
I narrowed my gaze at Dr. Stephens, the man standing between me and food. Yet he didn’t so much as flinch under my accusing stare.
Didn’t he have other minions? Wasn’t he in some highly regarded position? His delegation skills must be terrible if he had to use Damen for trivial matters.
Who would Damen choose—me or his mentor? Dr. Stephens held my gaze, and for a split second, I swore I saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
I opened my mouth, although I wasn’t sure what to say. Before I could speak, Damen was ushering me into the room. “Wait here,” he said. “And thank you for the coffee. Although, for future reference, I’m not a fan of warm milk.”
I wanted to smack him. I’d been waiting all season for that!
“I’ll be back,” he said. Then he stepped backward out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Bollocks.
I glared at the flavorless drink in my hands. What a wasted effort.
Dr. Stephens cleared his throat—a reminder of where I was and who I was with.
“I’m not sure what your beverage has done to offend you,” he began, nodding toward a tiny table in the corner of the room, where a small coffee pot and basket were placed, “but if you need some other refreshment, feel free to help yourself.”
My ire fled. Dr. Stephens’s stern face seemed to grow sharper and more imposing, and the room shrank. Warning bells echoed in my ears as my heart pounded.
