Chapter 13
Dante
I watched her leave and had to stop myself from following her.
When I could no longer see her, I held back a sigh and turned back to the room, locking eyes with her father, who was watching me closely. His expression was granite — unchanging and intense, the kind of look that said,Stay the hell away from my daughter.
I knew I’d pushed it when I called him out on the way he spoke to her, but fuck him. Sav wasn’t a pet he could control, and he needed a reminder of that.
I raised my glass to him and then looked away, and met the gaze of John, the overly familiar art professor. Professor Yates — asshole — watched me with something harder to define. Not suspicion, exactly. More like... calculation. For reasons I couldn’t explain, it made the back of my neck heat up more than the dean’s glare.Had he fucked her?The thought arrived before I could stop it. I didn’t like what it did to my jaw.
“Jesus,” Noah whispered beside me. “You sure do like the tension,” he joked.
“You mean attention?” I asked, hiding my smile behind the curve of the glass.
“Nah, man, I meanttension.” He laughed darkly, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You keep glaring at him, and you’re going to bring attention to you both.”
“Which one?” I asked only half seriously.
Noah chuckled. “Never had you pegged for the possessive type.”
“What?”
“You know exactly what I mean,” he said with a smirk, not buying my bullshit.
I was possessive? I thought about it as I glanced at the professor again. Yeah, he could fuck right off.
“I don’t like the way he looks at her,” I confessed, surprising myself by telling Noah.
His eyes widened slightly, and I don’t think he expected it either. He nodded, draining his champagne. The perks of being twenty-one — he could at least have alcohol to numb this pain.
“Maybe you don’t like the way he looks at her, but it’s nothing as long as it’s just looking, right?” Noah turned away, so anyone watching wouldn’t know what he was talking about. He took two flutes from a passing server.
“It better just be looking,” I growled, and he smirked as we both heard the possessiveness in my voice. “Shut up,” I grumbled, then grinned when he handed me a champagne flute, knowing it wasn’t the sparkling apple. “Thanks.”
“Either way,” he said, and I watched him hesitate before he carried on. “Glaring at him draws attention to you both—” his eyes flicked to the dean — “attention that you don’t need.”
I forced myself to turn away. “You ready to leave?”
“I was ready to leave before we got here,” he grumbled, causing me to grin at his discomfort.
“I feel that.” I assessed him shrewdly. He didn’t say much, but when he did, it was worth listening to. Noah Matthews was a good guy. “You shouldn’t have taken all these months to talk.”
Noah shrugged. “I wanted to make sure it was worth my time.”
I laughed at his bluntness.
I caught Coach Sutherland’s arm as he passed. “We about done here?” I asked him. “Just saw the dean’s daughter call it a night, surely we can too?”
Coach Merriman, who was beside him, raised a brow. “What’s the rush? You’re working the room like a pro. They love you.”
“Yeah, but I’ve shaken enough hands and kissed enough rings for one night. Besides, I’ve got early film tomorrow.”
His chuckle was low, like he thought I was blowing smoke. Maybe I was.
Coach Sutherland’s gaze swept the room in one quick glance. “Don’t knock each other over in your haste to leave,” he muttered dryly.
“This is why you’re my favorite coach,” I said smoothly, setting my glass down on the table.
