Page 48 of Crown of Thorns
“Louis. Let him go.” Suddenly, Noah stands next to me, and I realize I’m standing too, hovering over Arthur, who has his hands sprawled onto his table in resignation, waiting for me to snap out of it.
“I…”
Noah places his hand on my fist. My skin tingles everywhere. “He’s your brother.”
“He was…” He waslookingat you. I watch as Noah unwraps my fingers and gently pulls my hand back, making my skin tingle.
“Ouch,” Arthur coughs, his face red, his amused grin directed at me. “Touchy,touchysubject, right, bro? Sorry, Professor, I appear to be in the wrong class.” I don’t miss the slow once-over he gives Noah, before he gives me a final, blinding smile.
The fucker. The fucking fucker. I did that, I walked right into his trap. I showed him my cards, all by myself. Laid them down like I was begging to be seen. And now he knows everything.
“Louis,” Noah barks as soon as my brother has left. “My office after class.”
I nod. But inside, I’m screaming. I don’t want to wait. I want to claw my way under his skin until I live there.
So I walk out, grinning like a sinner on his way to confession, already dreaming of how he’ll make me pay. But under the grin, I feel scraped raw, like something essential got torn open in front of everyone. I just hope he sees it and won’t flinch.
13
NOAH
He’s already there.
Spread out like sin across my desk, back arched, elbows planted, legs parted in invitation.
Louis Deveraux.
A living threat to my sanity, my job, and the thin shred of control I still pretend to have.
“Punctuality, Professor?” he rasps, voice all smoke and challenge. “Not your best trait.”
Ignoring him, I place my briefcase between my legs and take off my jacket, dragging out every movement like it matters. I bought myself this walk, this breath, this sliver of time to figure out how the hell I’m supposed to talk to him after what happened. To be honest, I don’t have the slightest idea of what to do next.
"What the hell was that in class?" I snap, sharper than intended. "You don’t get to lunge at your brother in front of everyone and walk away like nothing happened."
He shrugs, maddeningly slow. "Would you have preferred I waited until after class?"
"Don’t joke, Louis. I want the truth."
He leans back, eyes flicking over my chest like he’s already dismissed the subject. "You’re cute when you’re angry."
"You’re deflecting."
"And you’re staring at my mouth again."
I grind my teeth. He knows exactly how to spin this. But not this time.
"Why your brother? Why now?"
He doesn’t answer right away. Just stares at my collarbone like it’s something worth devouring. Lets the silence stretch until it buzzes.
Then he tilts his head, just slightly. That signature smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth like he knows exactly what he's doing.
“Love the way your shirt strains against your thick arms, baby. Why don’t you open the first two buttons? It’s warm here.”
“It’s not and I won’t,” I snap.
“Hmm, perhaps not yet.” The way he watches me hungrily has me feeling both exposed and desired. It’s messing with my heart. “Lock the door.”
