Page 74 of Drown Like Heaven
The second he was out of earshot, I released a long exhale, shaking out my hands to dissipate some of the tension in my fingers, which had been clenched almost the entire conversation. There was no way I’d be able to focus on my lab report now.
Not when my body was this keyed-up.
Not when the sound of his voice was branded into my mind, playing on repeat, stoking the fire low in my stomach. His stare on my face. His casually dominant posture. His praise. The way he looked kind of tired, less put-together than usual.
The fact thatI’dgotten to see him that way—unpolished, messy—was making me warm.
Me :Hi. How much longer until you’re done?
Mila :Probably about thirty minutes. You can walk over to med campus and I’ll met you outside when I’m done. I’m parked in that usual lot
Me :Sounds good. I’ll be there
I packed all my things in my bag, my muscles humming with anticipation. Then I slipped out into the hallway, heading towards the elevators, subconsciously checking to see if Dr. Killshaw was still here somewhere, but I didn’t see him.
Punching the call button for the elevator, I shifted my weightfrom foot to foot, watching the button glow and the numbers on the display tick higher as the car rose to the deserted sixth floor. It arrived with a chime and I stepped inside, hitting the button for the first floor, and then the one to shut the doors.
An arm reached between the doors as they slid shut, halting their progress.
I shuffled back a few steps, eyes wide, until my back bumped the metal wall and my fingers wrapped around the rail. Dr. Killshaw entered the elevator, a bag slung over his shoulder and his jacket folded over his arm, hands tucked in the pockets of his slacks.
I opened my mouth, maybe to say something, but then shut it.
Neither of us spoke.
The doors slid shut, and the car began its smooth descent.
He moved to the side wall, resting his back against the stainless steel panel, his eyes shut as his head leaned back. The soft light filtering down from the ceiling highlighted the carved planes of his face, a slight shadow below his Adam’s apple.
It was silent, save for the sound of the elevator beeping as we went past each floor.
His eyes slid open halfway, lids heavy as he watched my face. Still, he didn’t speak a word. Neither did I. I just let him look at me.
Carefully, his stare slipped downwards, lingering on my neck, my chest, falling lower. There was a measure of restraint in it, something unspoken when he made eye contact with me again, as if to sayYou think you know what I’m doing, but you can’t prove anything.
The atmosphere was charged, electric and heavy in the depths of my lungs.
He shifted his stance.
I could feel every inch of empty space between us like a rope pulling taut. The air in the elevator felt constricting, my body warm in the small space.
I swore I could hear him breathing.
Can you hear me breathing?
Can you hear how hard my heart is beating right now?
Do you like it?
Do you want to make it beat harder?
The car slowed to a stop and the doors opened.
Dr. Killshaw nodded slightly, telling me to go first. I did, gripping the strap of my bag in my fist, acutely aware of his eyes on my back now.
Heading towards the door, I cast a quick look over my shoulder, finding Dr. Killshaw going the opposite way, towards the back of the building. I lingered for an instant, watching the slope of his shoulders, watching him rake his fingers through his hair, then I pushed out the door into the cool night.
Stars shone in a net of glittering pinpricks above campus, somehow easier to see when I wasn’t looking directly at them. A breeze was winding between buildings and lifting the hairs around my face, spreading goosebumps up my arms.
