Page 18 of Damsel in Disguise

Because I accidentally watched one lecture and ruined my own life by being addicted to him.

“I wanted to talk to him.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“Has he invited you here?”

“No.”

“Does he know you?”

“No.”

The younger guard rubs a hand down his face.

“So, let me understand this correctly. You’ve entered private university grounds several times, you’ve been avoiding staff members, you ran when we approached you, and the professor you’re trying to find has absolutely no idea who you are.”

When he says it out loud, it sounds significantly worse.

“Yes.”

The one-word answer is the best.

Because admitting I have a ridiculous, all-consuming crush on a man whose papers I annotate for fun somehow feels more humiliating than trespassing.

The older one sighs, the sound heavy with the exhaustion of a man who has spent his entire day dealing with students like me.

“Miss, I need you to understand how this looks.”

Trust me. Nobody understands how catastrophically this looks more than I do.

“I do.”

“Do you?” The older guard studies me for a long moment. “You’ve been entering private university grounds without authorization.”

“Technically, I’ve been walking through them.”

“You appeared near the engineering faculty. And then you tried to run from security.”

“I was appreciating the architecture, and then I panicked.”

The younger guard tilts his head. “Do your parents know where you are?”

I almost laugh. Of all the questions he could have asked, that one is probably the funniest.

“My father owns companies that negotiate with governments,” I say evenly. “He’s not particularly interested in whether I spend my afternoon admiring old buildings.”

The older guard catches it immediately. “I’m sorry?”

I hesitate for half a heartbeat. Then arrogance steps in where common sense should have been.

“My name’s Ariella Keinston.”

The younger guard glances at his colleague. The older one looks at me more carefully this time.

I don’t need to elaborate.