Page 6 of Lords of Misrule
I feel my stomach swirl at the thought of her going to Rowan instead of me. I’d had a small crush on her before. I could admit that. But the woman I just met? The one who was a ballbuster who could wield a gun and cut Rowan down to size with her words? It’s hard to not be at least a little interested. But I can’t be at odds with Rowan over her, and I definitely don’t want to end up in jail because I got fucking lovesick over a girl I barely know.
One thing’s for sure. It’s going to make class on Monday interesting as fuck.
* * *
When I get to class, I see her sitting at the back like she always is. Her eyes are down on her phone, and she seems engrossed in whatever she’s doing there. It’s not until I sit down next to her that her lashes flutter briefly in my direction, right before they land straight back on her phone. But I can tell from the way she sits and the slight change in her breathing that she’s hyperaware of my presence now.
“Have a good weekend?” I ask when she continues to pretend like I don’t exist.
She looks up finally, briefly making eye contact before she looks to the front of the room where the professor is still missing.
“It was okay.”
“Mine was interesting.”
“Was it?” She continues to smile but her eyes warn me not to say anything that could compromise her in this class.
“It was. This girl I’ve known for a long time turned out to be very surprising.”
“Yeah? She do that thing with her tongue?” She smirks at me.
“Not quite, although I think you’ll have to tell me more about that.” I grin at her.
“Well, maybe you didn’t know her as well as you thought you did.”
“Maybe. Maybe I want to know her better.”
“Sure your friend’s on board with that idea? He might not like her very much after the weekend.”
“Oh, he doesn’t. But he might come around under the right circumstances.”
“Charlotte and Finn, do you have something you want to share with the class?” Professor Mitchell interrupts our conversation, and I’d been so involved with her that I hadn’t even noticed him come into the room.
“No. I’m sorry, Professor.” Charlotte’s smile falters, and her eyes go down to her desk again.
“Good. Then let’s get started on the works of Marie-Louise-Élisabeth Vigée-Lebrun, shall we?” Professor Mitchell announces and his eyes fall on me like he’s assessing me before he looks back at his computer again and starts the lesson. I’m starting to wonder if this is the reason why no matter how well I do in his class, I never seem to get above a B.
She glances over at me one last time, an apologetic smile on her face and it makes me grin in return before I put my focus back on taking notes. I’ll have to be careful with her. She’s dangerous to me in more ways than one.
Four
Charlotte
When I get home that night, I slip out of the diner T-shirt and pants I have on, tossing them in the laundry basket before I pull my hair out of my bun and shake it loose, rubbing my scalp for good measure. I reach for the clasps at the back of my bra, releasing them and tossing it on the side of the hamper. I need to do laundry. I need to find time to do laundry. But between homework, the diner, and keeping Colin entertained, I don’t get much time for anything else.
I start to go for my panties, thinking I might hop in the shower before I crash on my bed when my heart nearly jumps out of my chest at the sight of a shadow in the corner of my room.
“Shame that you waste all that on Mitch.”
It’s Rowan. I’d recognize the slight rasp in his deep voice anywhere. He’s sitting in the chair in the corner of my room, legs spread wide as his eyes drift over my body in the dim light. Amusement dances over his face as he leans forward on his elbows for a better look. His face catches the light when he does it, lighting all the perfect angles.
I fold my arms over my chest, covering my breasts even though it’s useless since he’s already had a good look. I will myself to look calm, stay calm,be calm. Because he’s the kind of person who senses weakness and latches on to it. It’s exactly how he got Colin in his debt.
“Yeah? Should I waste it on boys my age instead?”
“Less about age and more about competence.”
“He’s perfectly competent,” I lie.
