Page 6 of Screwged for Christmas

Note to self: Take the back way to the library from now on.

My brow furrows as I watch Mr. Frost himself walk away. I touch the snowflake charm on my bracelet and remind myself some people are shitty because they choose to be. Cold-heartedness is by choice, not inherited.

I drop my hand, noticing my watch. “Shit.”

After hurrying for the library, I push through the door and weave down the aisles. It’s a massive building with row after row of books on every topic under the sun. Seriously, there’s no end to how many books this place houses. It’s one of the main reasons I applied for my bachelor’s in computer science at Westmoore. The library. I get lost in here in the back rows where no one ever ventures among all the dusty books. Back here is the quietest and my happy place for the most part.

After a little hassling, the administration finally agreed to pull together a sitting area for study groups. Today it’s all mine. Only a few among fellow coders know about it and they’re all gone on break.

I slip down the stairs and take a left under an archway and into a dark section, the hidden lounge area just past another row of books.

A large body crashes into me. Or rather I crash into it. Either way I yelp, stumbling back into another wall that has similar arms and impeccable pecs beneath my palms.

“Oh, crap.”

I jerk my hands back with a gasp, unable to get a clear view of either man, I guess. I mean, unless Thor is back here, that is.

My heart races and adrenaline hammers through my veins. “I, um, sorry. I didn’t see you there.” Like at all. Why don’t they ever have the damn light on in this section of the library?

“Ms. Angelo.”

Slowly my eyes adjust at the sound of my maiden name, but I don’t need my eyes to recognize the voice to go along with that baritone.

“Professor Preston.”

I legally go by my maiden name. A change my parents insisted on.

Crap.

“Ms. Angelo, what are you doing back here and all by yourself this late in the evening?”

Touché.

“Professor Black?”

Double crap.

My whole world frays along the edges and I stumble over my lump of a tongue and inability to keep my mind from hitting the gutter the second his masculine scent wraps around my brain.

I swallow back my nerves. Or at least I try. It is hard when I can’t control my breathing nor my thudding heart.

Damn it. I am supposed to have two weeks. I need the buffer time to get my body under control for the next time I saw them.

My breath catches and I have to quickly shake my brain. They don’t know who I am. They don’t know the girl under the Queen Frost outfit and ice blue mask was me.

No Names, no pressure, I remind myself.

My eyes adjust to the darkness and I come to see a hard jawline and a brooding scowl in front of me.

Dark Eyes, or Professor Erik Black, stands back, eyes on mine, watching.

“Hey. Umm...I thought this part of the library was empty. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all. You’re right on time.”

CHAPTER3

JEMMA

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