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“Hello, prince.”
My heart jumps at the sound of his voice, and my eyes flick down the hall, scanning who might be nearby.
Before I can finish the sweep, his hand catches my jaw. “Where are you looking?” he asks, calmly. “I’m right here.”
I smack his hand away. “I’m obviously making sure no one sees me next to a parasite.”
His brows lift.
“Can’t ruin my reputation, you know.” Although, to be fair, he already ruined it. Kento had this deeply concerning hobby of saying the most unhinged shit imaginable in public. A few months ago, he whispered that he wanted me bouncing on his cock, and when I quite reasonably attempted to kick him in the balls, the bastard loudly called me a little gremlin.
In front of everyone. As though I were the one behaving inappropriately.
He presses a hand to his chest with mock injury. “Oh, you wound me, sweetheart.”
I nearly choke. “Don’t call me that.”
His mouth curves. “Should we kiss and ruin it some more?”
I mutter a curse under my breath so filthy it would probably make a priest faint, then grab his wrist and yank him down the hall before he can say anything worse. There’s an empty classroom a few doors down, lights off, door half-open, and I drag him inside.
I shut the door behind us and demand, “Okay, what the fuck are you doing here?”
This isn’t the art campus. He has no reason to be here. But then he licks his lips and says, “I missed you.”
I fold my arms so I don’t do something regrettable like put my hands on him. “Thought Sasha was keeping you busy.”
One dark brow lifts. “Sasha?”
“The infestation constantly draped over your general area.”
He looks at me for a second, then smiles. “No,” he says. “I wasn’t with Sasha.”
I narrow my eyes. “Mhmmmmmm.”
“Are you jealous?”
I bark out a laugh. “You really do think highly of yourself, don’t you? I’m too unbothered by your entire existence to be jealous.”
“You dragged me into an empty room by yourself,” he says quietly. “Tell me again how unbothered you are.”
I point a finger at his chest. “I dragged you in here because if someone saw you grabbing my face in the hallway, I’d have to kill them.”
His eyes flick to my finger, then back to me. “You’re thoughtful like that.”
I glare harder. “Why are you really here?”
He leans one shoulder against a desk like he has all the time in the world. “I told you.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I wanted to see you.” Kento licks his lips and says, “Actually, that’s a lie.”
He unfolds himself from the desk and starts toward me. It’s like the room bends around his presence, the air parting obediently as he crosses it.
I take one step back. His eyes drop to the movement, then back to my face. “What I meant is that I wanted to touch you.”
Okay. What exactly is the correct response to that? What does one say when a beautiful black-eyed psychopath corners you and informs you he came across campus to put his hands on you?
