Subject: What is this?
I have received your very brief and vague notes from your interview with Ms. Keenan. However, I expect a full report by the end of the day. I expect better from my star pupil.
Respectfully,
Sabel Matthews
CEO, Sonus Corp
I grind my molars. Since sending Sabel the CliffsNotes version, I’ve been working on the full interview to send her. I hoped that it would satiate her. But it appears that the short version was not enough. I should know better than to taunt the wolf, but she pisses me the fuck off sometimes.
I look up as the door to the coffee shop chimes, and Sloane walks in. We lock eyes, and she waves, making her way to the counter to order a coffee. I stare for a few seconds longer before regretfully tearing my eyes away from her. While she orders, I quickly type back a pointed response to the she-wolf.
To: Sabel Matthews
Subject: I have a life
As hard as it may be to believe, I do participate in things that don’t involve Sonus Corp. I’m working on it. You’ll get it when it’s finished.
Disrespectfully,
Van
Star Pupil
My phone rings, and I look down to see a wolf emoji. I smirk, rejecting the call. Mission accomplished. I’ll deal with Sabel later.
I pocket my cell as Sloane walks up to the table and sits down across from me, pulling her notebook and pencil out of her cross-body bag. She looks exhausted. She’s wearing those sexy glasses that frame her even sexier eyes. But I notice that the green is lacking its usual vibrancy and rimmed with dark circles. Her bright auburn hair is pulled back again, but messier this time. It looks like she rushed to put it up. That testing session must have drained her. I find myself itching to reach across the table and tuck one of the loose strands of hair behind her ear. I resist the urge, fiddling with the sugar packets that are organized in a container on the table instead.Later, I tell myself.
“Ms. Keenan, how nice to see you again,” I say, giving her a soft smile. Her pale cheeks flush a pretty pink, and I internally high-five myself. She eyes my choice of clothing, which is a bit more casual than what she’s currently wearing. I decided to go for a jog this morning to clear my head before coming, so I have on a pair of dark gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt.
“Professor … Mr. Reilly. Please, call me Sloane,” she says back shyly. Opening up to me already, little nightmare? Hmmm. I don’t know whether I should punish or reward her for that.Neither, my subconscious says to me. Normally, I would listen to that voice in my head that speaks logic, but today I’m working a different angle. So, I push that voice into the back of my mind and lock the door.See ya later, sucker.
“Well, Sloane,” I purr, “if you insist. I do, however, have one condition. Please call me Riven from now on. It’s only fair.” She smiles, playing with her earring as the light returns to her eyes.Soresponsive. I archive the revelation for another time.
“Okay, deal,” she says, her lips stretching into a grin before quickly falling back into a thin line.
“Is everything okay?” I question, frowning. I don’t like her sudden mood shift.
“Not really. I found something. I …” She looks down at her hands that cup her iced coffee.
“It’s okay, Sloane. Whatever you need to say, you can trust me,” I assure her, speaking softly. She looks up from her cup, staring into my eyes like she’s looking for the answer to a conflicting problem.
“I met with Reverb yesterday, and Van told me that the band is working for an organization that’s testing a mind control theory by using frequencies in their music,” she says quietly, scanning the coffee shop for eavesdroppers. She pauses, sucking in a long breath through her pink, glossy lips.Goddamn. I avert my gaze back to her eyes and refocus my full attention on what she’s saying. I remain silent, giving her the space to continue when she’s ready.
She looks at me, almost afraid, as she says, “I’m not affected by the frequencies. They tested me, and I only partially responded to it. Van switched out my data to make it look like I was, but what if the organization finds out? Riven, I …” She pauses, eyes rimming with tears.
It’s the first time she says my name, and I instantly wish it were under different circumstances. I reach across the table and place my hand over one of hers, ignoring the immediate electricity that pulses beneath my fingertips. I glance up into her eyes as a single tear runs down her cheek.Fuck, I want to lick it right off her face. Now isnotthe time, and this isnotthe place. Instead, I use the pad of my thumb to lightly brush it away before tucking that loose strand of hair behind her ear. I reluctantly let my hand fall away from her face. My subconsciousbangs on the locked door in my mind, begging to escape and talk some sense into me.
“Sloane, shh … shh. It’s okay,” I whisper. “Do you want to get out of here? Go to my place? Or yours … whatever is better for you.”
She glances between my eyes and then down at my hand that still covers hers, pulling away. She seems to finally realize that we aren’t alone in this coffee shop that now feels too small, grabbing her notebook and pen to pocket them in her bag before standing quickly. I follow suit.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into this. I should go,” she says, flustered, as she moves away from me and toward the door.
I follow after her. “Sloane, wait.” She doesn’t turn back. Instead, she keeps walking until she’s out of the door and practically running to her car. She reaches for her door handle, but I step between her and the car. I hold my hands up to show her that I mean no harm. At least, not yet.
“Wait,” I say, dropping my hands. “Just … wait, please.” I ignore the begging in my tone and continue. “Please, can we talk about what you said back there?”
