“You smoke?” I ask without looking up.
“Sometimes. Why, do you want one?”
I can’t help but frown. “You want to be a doctor, and you smoke?”
He shrugs. “Lots of doctors smoke.”
“Well, they shouldn’t.” I turn back to my textbook and flip through it, searching for the practice questions. We went over them earlier, but I’d like to run through them one more time.
“Are you always this uptight?”
“Hmm?” I’m only half listening.
He’s not in my year, but the school is small and we all share the common study areas, so we’ve briefly met. His smile is objectively charming, but the way his eyes linger too long when I’m in line at the cafeteria always causes my skin to prickle with unease.
“I said are you always this uptight?”
“I’m not uptight,” I snap.
“Sweetheart, your ears are next to your shoulders.” He leans in, and I shift away slightly. “I may not be a doctor yet, but I don’t think that’s anatomically correct.” He laughs at his lame joke.
Then, without warning, his hand is on the back of my neck, squeezing.
“What are you doing?” I scoot my chair to the right and jerk my head.
It doesn’t deter him, his hand still cuffing my nape. “Relax, sweetheart. You need to relax.”
“Don’t tell me what to do. And do not call me that.” I push hisarm away and concentrate on my textbook, praying he’ll get the hint and leave me alone.
He throws his hands up in defense. “I’m just trying to help.”The room falls silent then, but his gaze burns a hole in the side of my head.
Frustration brewing in my abdomen, I say, “Did you need something?”
He leans in a little closer, and the cigarette smell is joined by a hint of cheap body spray. “I think it’s you who needs something.”
“Excuse me?” I slam the textbook shut and snap upright. Only then do I realize we’re alone in the room.
With his voice low, he runs the tip of his finger along my wrist. “You know what helps alleviate stress, right?”
I snap back so fast my left elbow connects with my chair, shooting an electric shock of pain straight to my fingertips. The sensation stuns me for a moment, and before I have a chance to stand, Leo is closer again, whispering, “An orgasm. I could make you?—”
“Gotta go,” I shout, pushing my chair away and standing.
He rises, wearing a smug smirk. “Aw, c’mon.”
“No.”
“I’ll even take you to dinner first.”
“No is a complete sentence.” I hold my hand up between us. “I don’t like this, Leo. Please stop.”
He scoffs, his eyes going hard. “I was only offering to get you off so you could relax a bit. No need for the hysterics. The least you could do is thank me.”
That frustration inside me morphs into fury, my body temperature rising. The fucking audacity of this motherfucking fucker.
Quickly, hands nearly trembling, I collect my books. Then I sling my bag over my shoulder and stride across the room. Only he beats me to the door, blocking me in.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispers, looking down the hallway. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, sweetheart.”
