Page 14 of Heartflame

No. Absolutely not. This had to be some kind of fucking joke.

“All of you can meet up after class to go over your assignments,” Professor Blackwood continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she’d just sentenced me to two weeks of torture.

I could feel Aeron’s attention snap to me like a hand pressing against the back of my head. The weight of his gaze was almost suffocating, and I refused to turn around and acknowledge him. Instead, I stared straight ahead at the back of the witch girl’s head in front of me, my hands clenched into fists in my lap.

This wasn’t happening. I could request a reassignment. Professor Blackwood had said everyone was held to the same standard. Surely that meant I could appeal the pairing if there was a conflict. The problem was, I couldn’t exactly tell her the real reason without admitting that Aeron had kissed me without permission at a party, and I’d spent the entire weekend obsessing over it.

“I expect you all to actually work together on this assignment,” Professor Blackwood said, and I glanced up to find her looking directly at me with a knowing expression. “Not for one person to do all the work while the other takes credit. I’ll be checking in with each of you individually to ensure equal contribution.”

Class proceeded with excruciating slowness. Professor Blackwood lectured about defensive ward structures and their practical applications, and I tried desperately to focus on her words instead of the way I could occasionally catch the scent of something like smoke and cinnamon drifting from Aeron’s direction. It was maddening. Everything about him was designed to be an annoying distraction. He was probably doing it on purpose.

When class finally ended and students began gathering their things, I moved quickly, shoving my books into my bag with perhaps more force than necessary. I was halfway to the door when I heard his voice.

“Red, wait up.”

I kept walking.

“Come on, we need to figure out when we’re going to work on this project,” he called after me, and I could hear the amusement in his tone. He was enjoying this. Of course he was.

I made it into the hallway before he caught up with me, his much longer stride allowing him to fall into step beside me with infuriating ease.

“We need to talk about the assignment,” he said, not bothering with preamble.

“Send me a letter, dickhead,” I replied flatly, not slowing my pace.

“Aww, don’t be like that, Red,” he began.

“Professor Blackwood said equal contribution,” I said, cutting him off. “I’ll do my part, you do yours. No reason for us to ever see one another outside of class.”

“That’s not going to work and you know it,” he said through his smile. “We need to actually meet up and plan this thing out.”

I finally stopped walking and turned to face him, aware that we were attracting attention from passing students. “Can’t you just fucking leave me alone?”

He puffed up his chest, lavishing in my irritation. “You like me, Red. Just admit it. You can help yourself. Nobody can.”

“Actually, I fucking hate you,” I shot back, not backing down. “And if you ever touch me again without my permission, I will report you. I don’t give a flying fuck who your grandfather is or that you’re a dragon. You can go fuck yourself for all I care.”

His expression shifted, something darker crossing his scaled features. For a moment, I thought he might actually get angry, might show some crack in that infuriating facade. But instead, he just smiled wider, like I’d said something that amused him rather than insulted him.

“You know what I think, Red?” he said, stepping closer. “I think you’re scared. Not of me, but of what you felt when I kissed you. And that terrifies you so much that you’re lashing out like a cornered animal.”

“You’re delusional,” I spat, but even as the words left my mouth, I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. Goddamn it.

“Am I?” He tilted his head, and his horns caught the light streaming through the hallway windows. “Because your body’s telling me something completely different right now. Your pupils are dilated. Your breathing’s gotten faster. And unless I’m very much mistaken, you’ve got a pretty significant tent forming in those jeans of yours.”

I felt my face flush crimson and immediately turned away, crossing my arms over my crotch. “Fuck you.”

“That can be arranged,” he said smoothly. “But first, we have an assignment to work on. My dorm room tonight at seven. Don’t be late, Red.”

Before I could respond, he was already walking away, his tail swishing behind him. Students pressed themselves against the walls to let him pass, their eyes following him with obvious interest and desire.

I stood there in the middle of the hallway, my chest heaving, my mind a complete fucking mess. The worst part was that some treacherous part of me was already calculating whether I’d actually show up. Whether I’d actually walk into his dorm room at seven o’clock and let him torture me with his presence for however long it took to plan this stupid assignment.

No. Absolutely not. I would request a reassignment. I would go to Professor Blackwood right now and tell her there was a conflict and that I couldn’t work with him. I would figure out something.

But even as I made that decision, I knew I wouldn’t follow through. Because he was right about one thing. I was scared. Not of him, but of the fact that he was right about me. That I’d spent the entire weekend thinking about that kiss. That I secretly, no matter how much I tried to deny it, wanted it to happen again, and that even the ward breach hadn’t been able to drive it from my mine.

I made my way to my next class on autopilot, my mind still spinning. By the time lunch rolled around, I’d managed to convince myself that I absolutely would not go to his room tonight. I would tell him some excuse. I would say that I had cross country practice or a meet that I couldn’t miss. That would have to be good enough for him, because despite whatever latent feelings I might have, I was not going to listen to them.