Page 188 of Heartless Sinner

At least I didn’t have to send any of them a bill and hunt them down like a collections agency.

Unable to focus on homework, I googled Brooks Byron and Daphne.

Pages of articles flooded my screen. The top results were all dated within the past day.

Just great.

The articles claimed we’d partied together at the club. The owner proudly backed up that claim. Asshole even used the scandal as a marketing stunt, offering free admission in exchange for the story.

I rolled my eyes at the promo code. It was D&B4EVER.

An unnamed source alleged they had seen us at the gas station. That story was half true. Brooks had gone into one for my slushie, but I stayed in the car. The windows were too tinted for anyone to see me. Or so I’d thought.

There were more so-called sightings. Almost every one fabricated. Lies sold and made people money, so they didn’t care about the truth.

I skimmed an article about us together in Calira, and I clicked on it.

Someone had sold the story about him taking me away from the dance floor at the Tide Ball. At least they didn’t have photos as proof.

After reading enough articles, I switched to social media to read people’s comments. The public opinion was split. Some loved the taboo of our so-called relationship. Others labeled Brooks a traitor and claimed to have lost all respect for him.

The sudden thud of a book hitting the floor broke my concentration.

I quickly scooted my chair closer to the desk, forcing my eyes back to the computer screen.

Ignore it.

That was what normal people did when creepy shit like that happened.

A second later, another heavy thud echoed through the quiet room.

I shot a nervous glance toward the towering shelves. My heart kicked harder in my chest as I forced my focus to my computer again.

Get lost, ghost.

“What the—” I gasped as a book whacked me in the side of the head.

I slammed my MacBook closed with a loud snap.

An instant later, a thick hardcover thudded onto the table beside my head.

“Fine!” I hissed, shoving my chair back.

I marched straight toward the isolated aisle where it was apparently raining literature.

All the air left my lungs the moment I rounded the corner.

He caught my hip with his hand then hooked his arm around my waist before driving me into a back-row bookshelf hidden from the librarian’s desk.

A masked man towered over me, standing only inches away.

Dark eyes stared right back at me, the corners creasing with amusement.

My frantic pulse instantly smoothed when my eyes locked with Brooks’s.

“Daph,” he rasped out, dragging a hand up my bare thigh and gathering my skirt with it.

“We can’t do this here,” I whispered, weakly swatting at his wrist.