Page 61 of Drown Like Heaven
“See you all in lecture next week,” he said, cutting me off. Then he disappeared through the door.
I snapped my mouth shut, frustration and anger and regret and disbelief andembarrassmentheating my blood. At least it didn’t seem like anyone had heard my failed attempt at communication.
But I knew Dr. Killshaw had heard. I wasright next to him.
Without waiting for my group, I pushed out the doors of the lab, catching sight of my professor slipping through the door to the back stairwell. I went the other direction.Fuck him.
My hands were shaking as I put everything in my bag. I managed to give Quinn a tight smile when she said bye to me, but I felt raw. Stupid. Humiliated.
Why did he look at me like that on Tuesday if he was going to completely disregard my presence today?
Because I’m making something out of nothing. That’s why.
Chapter 17
Dakota
Lecture the next week was horrible. I was so far inside my head I could barely focus. I was worried about what I’d told Mason, worried about his warning.Be ready, Dakota.
Well, I wasn’t ready. I’d never be ready.
Right next to my worries about Mason were my worries about Dr. Killshaw. I searched my brain endlessly, trying to twist the situation into something I could grab onto with both hands, something that made sense to me. Perhaps I’d just been imaging the look in his eyes, inflating the importance of those few moments.
Because he hadn’t looked at me once since then.
And I had no idea if it was normal, or if I was being extremely paranoid.
While he lectured, he usually looked around the room, gauging the engagement of the class, but I swore he was completely skipping the back corner I sat in. Had he always done that? Was he skipping other sections too? Was this sheer coincidence, and I was reading way too far into it?
I don’t know.
I hate that I can’t stop thinking about him.
The memory of his scent was a ghost in my mind, a blurry outline of something I thought I recognized, but couldn’t figureout. At first I wondered if he smelled like Mason, because he didn’t really smell like cologne, but it wasn’t that. He didn’t smell like the ocean. It was something else.
A knock at the front door of my trailer snapped me from my thoughts.
I shot off my bed, my stomach instantly heavy with dread.
It’s probably one of my neighbors asking for an egg or something. Nothing to worry about. I’ll just tell them I don’t have any.
I crept quietly down the hall to the front door, thankful I’d closed the blinds on my windows earlier. Pressing my palms flat to the door, I peered through the tiny peephole.Fuck. My head tipped forward, forehead resting on the door, pulse steadily increasing.
Mason knocked again.
Deep down, I knew he wasn’t going to leave until I answered the door. Even if he eventually began to assume I wasn’t home, I knew he’d wait for me to get back. I looked through the peephole again.
He had his arm braced on the door frame, head hanging down.
Better to get it over with.
The second I unlocked the door, he was shoving it open, his body colliding with mine as he pushed me backwards into my kitchen.
“Fuck! Mason!” I gasped, turning my head away as he moved to kiss my neck. He was practically attacking me with his lips. “What are you doing?”
“I missed you,” he panted, lifting me up to sit on the counter, spreading my thighs so he could stand between them. Heat rushed through me at his words. He grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head, exposing my naked tits. I couldn’tquite wrap my head around what was happening, but I wasn’t reallyresistinghim.
My front door was still wide open—but the screen door was shut, thankfully.
