Page 55 of Provocation
I do wish Lu was here because it’s always more fun working with a friend, and the others don’t talk to me much, but she’s messaged me back to say she has a show coming up around Christmas so she’s in rehearsals, which is why she’s been MIA.
I knuckle down and keep up with my orders, making sure my workspace stays tidy, and everything is washed up as I use it. Everything is going fine, but then a customer yells at me for making their drink wrong and then one of my co-workers is sick and has to leave during the lunch rush, andthena blender explodes soy milk all over me.
By the time I leave, I feel numb and exhausted, and I smell of stale coffee and soybeans. All I want to do is go back to the house and close my eyes in the quiet for a while. But then I remember I have to meet Bennet and my heart sinks. I let out a groan, wishing I could cancel, but we don’t have much time left to get this project done, and I’m not sure when I’ll have time to meet him over the next week or so, what with making batches of Envy.
I meet him in the library. It’s really busy and there aren’t any reading rooms available, so we end up having to work at a small desk on a bank of them on the top floor. There’s only just enough room for our laptops and he’s so close that his arm is constantlybrushing against mine despite all my attempts to move away from him.
How does he take up so much space? He’s nowhere near the size of Mav and I’ve never had this problem withhim.
But maybe that’s because I like it when he touches me whereas the near constant feel of Bennet’s forearm on mine is more than a little bothersome. That coupled with the smell of his overpowering aftershave, and the fact that I was already extra tired after my horrible shift at Grinder, means that I feel like I’m going to scream or cry or both.
I’m uncomfortable and tired and keeping a pleasant expression on my face is sapping what’s left of my energy. Without realizing what I’m doing, I shake out both my hands vigorously, trying to dispel some of the stress I’m feeling, and freeze when Bennet asks me what I’m doing with an odd chuckle. A few other students working nearby turn their heads to stare at me.
The years of Heath rules make my stomach drop and my skin flush.
I mutter something about my hands falling asleep and change the subject, but I feel sick that I did it in public even though, rationally, I know there won’t be a correction for it.
I swallow hard and let out a slow breath, recognizing the signs that I need to decompress soon. Screw it. I’ll find the time to meet up with him again in a few days. I can’t sit here any longer.
‘We’ve been here almost two hours,’ I say carefully. ‘Shall we meet up again later this week to finish?’
‘No can do,’ he says, not looking up from his typing. ‘I’m busy the rest of the week and next week is Thanksgiving. I’m pretty slammed with school and hockey and then I’m leaving Wednesday night to see my folks. We need to get it done today, babe.’
I wrinkle my nose slightly at the endearment, but he doesn’t say anything else, so maybe it was a slip of the tongue.
I grit my teeth and we work some more. When I next look up, I see him peering around. ‘It’s really cleared out now,’ he says. ‘Do you want to grab a reading room for the last part? Might go faster if we aren’t being interrupted constantly with other people’s conversations.’
‘Sure,’ I reply, just wanting to get this over with.
Anything to go home to the quiet. Plus, I keep hearing loud giggling from somewhere close by which is making it impossible for me to concentrate.
I stand up, leaving my coat on my chair and the rest of my books on the table, and I follow him into one of the rooms with my laptop and the text we’re working from. We sit down on opposite sides of the table, thank God, though he does get up a minute later, complaining about the glare from the windows that make up the wall that faces into the library. He brushes against me as he passes me to close the blinds and turn on the light. I ignore him as much as I can after that.
When we’ve done as much as we need to do, I shut my laptop and give him a thumbs up. ‘Well, I think that’s everything we need to work on together. The last part we can each do on our own and turn it in before Thanksgiving.’
He nods but doesn’t make any attempt to get up.
I stand and grab my laptop. ‘Well, see you around.’
I feel him rise and assume he’s leaving as well, but instead he moves my chair away and presses me into the table from behind, a hand sliding up my shirt to my bra.
He squeezes roughly and I freeze, not sure what to do, not sure what’s going on.
I open my mouth to say something but, like the night in the games room, nothing comes out. I’m in here alone with him, and as I look at the glass wall, I realize the blinds are completelyclosed and the door is locked. No one can see inside. No one can get in.
‘You smell like a latte,’ he murmurs.
His other hand pulls down my pants a little and I realize he’s got them undone in the time that I’ve been thinking and not doing anything.
‘Mmm, did you wear these for me?’
His hand grabs the elastic of my underwear and pings it back on my skin, making it smart.
I hear his zipper.
I feel a finger push inside me and I gasp.
How did we go from doing our project to this?
