But, most of all, hatingher.
Because none of this would have happened if Haven fucking Lee had stayed gone.
Chapter 31
Haven
The sound that wakes me is just a creaking floorboard, but after everything I’ve been through since I got back to Agony Hollow it might as well be a gunshot.
My eyes pop open, heart giving a hard, panicked thump inside my chest as my brain scrambles to position me in space and time.
My roommate is snoring in her bed a few feet away, so that makes this the GAZ sorority house.
Last thing I remember is falling asleep during an episode of The Kardashians. That makes this Monday night, or possibly Tuesday morning.
I work my way back through the rest of Monday—the two bottles of wine that me and Melissa shared, junk food, the multiple unsuccessful study sessions that led me to consume all the empty calories and booze.
Then Sunday, when I was bleeding, cranky, depressed, and hungover. I kept thinking about what Bastian had said about my depleted serotonin levels.
Thinks he’s so fucking smart.
Because he is, and it pisses me off.
I hear another creak, like someone trying to sneak down the hall.
Fuck. What if it’s Kai?
He’s probably pissed off I haven’t turned my phone back on so he can harass me online. Now he’s come to do it in person.
My first instinct is to call out to Melissa, but what if it’s a sorority girl on a bathroom break? It’s not against the law to leave your room at night. And if I woke up my friend, she’ll wonder why the hell I’m such a scaredy cat.
I strain for another sound, but there’s just silence past the door.
Must have been my imagination.
I huff out a breath and roll myself tighter in my sheets, turning my back so I don’t keep staring at the door, waiting for it to open.
Except it does.
I try to convince myself I’m hearing things. Locking up my muscles so I don’t roll over to look.
But, swear to God, I can hear the fibers in the carpet being crushed under someone’s weight.
Just your imagination.
Maybeyoushould get your head ex?—
“Haven.”
My throat locks around a gasp as I fling myself onto my back. Terror seizes my body, paralyzing me.
A tall, slim figure stands near the foot of my bed, silhouetted by the hallway light. Darkness obscures his features, but I know who it is.
Professor Rooke.
He heard my silent pleas.
I’ve been longing for him—for his kiss, his touch, his cock—every day, but now that he’s here, I’m terrified.
