“Professor, wait!”
I wind down the window, but I don’t look at her.
Let her stew for a moment and consider her options.
As much as she tries to hide it with that inflated self-confidence, there’s a people pleaser lurking deep inside Parker. It begs for validation every time that slim hand shoots up the moment she knows the answer to a question. It’s blatant in how put together she is—neat, perfect,pleasing.
Her childhood must have been teeming with designer toys and thoroughbred ponies. Pop stars flown in for every birthday since she was three. But she paid for that privilege with parental neglect and oh-so conditional love.
“Please,” she continues, her voice taking on the tone of someone whose worst nightmare is rejection. “I was really looking forward to this.”
“You didn’t seem that keen when I asked about it on Thursday,” I say dryly, giving her a condescending tilt of my head.
“I…wasn’t sure if I’d already made plans,” she blatantly lies.
Something she’ll pay for dearly when I finally convince her to get in my fucking car.
And it better be soon, because the longer she stands out there, the higher the chance someone will spot the two of us together.
“You missed your calling, Miss Parker. Could have won an Academy Award for your performance.”
She’s getting annoyed, but desperately suppressing it.
I’m not.
“I’ll see you on Tuesday,” I say, winding up the window. As I’m throwing my arm around the passenger headrest to scan the back windshield, Melissa’s shadow appears at the window.
She taps her nails against the glass until I wind down the window, then ducks down to speak to me, giving me a glimpse of her pale cleavage when gravity tugs down the front of her dress.Those tits aren’t anything like Haven’s either. I’m guessing neither is her cunt.
“Don’t punish me for those assholes,” she says, sounding a little snippy. “I’m late, but at least I showed up.”
I sigh theatrically. “If you’re serious, then…” I wave a hand to the passenger side seat, with my other hand. “I guess you’re welcome to join me. But please don’t waste my time if you’re just trying to score free alcohol. I’ve just about had it with you kids for one day.”
I watch the internal struggle play out across her face. It’s the same one Haven fought that first week of school.
A battle both girls lose.
“Fine,” she huffs out.
I unlock the door, but she hesitates with one slender leg in, the other still planted outside.
“Is that…” Her nose wrinkles faintly as she studies the passenger seat. It’s hardly visible on the red leather after I gave it a quick scrub the other day, but there are still traces of Haven’s body paint smeared over the upholstery.
“Don’t worry, it won’t stain.”
She looks at me like she wouldn’t trust me to dry clean her gym clothes if someone held a gun to her head.
“Christ. I’ll replace your entire wardrobe if you get so much as a smudge on your beautiful dress.”
There it is.
The faintest little flush on her cheeks.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she says airily. “This is Chanel.”
Like I give a fuck.
I try to make my smile less stiff as she reluctantly slides into the seat beside me, her designer perfume filling the car with notes of jasmine and something even sweeter beneath. She turns to shake out her umbrella before putting it down at her feet.
