“It’s fine,” I murmur, before this turns into a fucking pissing contest. “I’ll meet you at the library?”
For a long moment, Kai doesn’t move. His green eyes flick over Bastian’s face, narrowed, calculating.
Then he huffs through his nose, lifting his chin. Kai turns, grabs my chin, and kisses me. It’s rough and hungry, a blatant mark of territory, before he pulls away.
“You’ve got ten minutes,” he rumbles, staring at me until I nod.
He walks out without looking back.
“Christ,” Bastian scoffs, rubbing his eyelids with the fingers of one hand, the other tucked under his arm. “That fucking boy and his?—”
He cuts off when I glare up at him.
The lecture hall empties around us. A few lingering students cast curious glances our way, but no one stays. Within a minute, it’s just me and Bastian and the ghost of everything we’re not talking about.
“You left more than enoughfeedbackon my essay,” I say dryly. “In fact, if we’re doing Secret Santa this year, I know exactly what to buy you.”
“Red pens?” Bastian asks, mouth tugging into a rueful, lopsided smile.
“Bulk pack.” I cross my arms. “We’re not going to dinner with you tonight.”
He leans back against his desk, crossing his ankles, thumbs tucked into the pockets of his charcoal slacks. The posture is casual, but I’m not fooled. Nothing about Bastian Rooke is casual. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“And you’re a manipulative psychopath. Guess we’ve both got our flaws.”
His mouth twitches, but his expression turns serious before the smile can break. “And him?”
“He’s fine, too,” I lie.
He tilts his head, studying me. “I’m trying to give you space, but I’m…concerned.”
“Concerned,” I repeat flatly.
He scoffs. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“Coming from you? Almost impossible, actually.”
He’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks again, his voice is a low rumble that does nefarious things to my clit.
“I know I’ve made things difficult in the past. But I’m trying, Haven. For whatever that’s worth.”
I don’t know what to do with that, or with this version of Bastian who says things like “I’m trying” and actually seems to mean it.
“Kai needs time,” I finally say. “What happened…it fucked him up.”
Bastian uncrosses his arms, bracing his hands on the desk behind him. “Is there anything I can do?”
I shake my head. “Nope. You’re doing good.” I smile wryly. “Ish. Good-ish.”
“Christ,” Bastian scoffs, glancing away.
“He—We’ll come when we’re ready.”
“And what if I can’t wait that long?”
