“Old man?”He grins.“Why do you have to be an old man to love mints?”
I shake my head, and unwrap the green and white candy, popping it into my mouth before blowing him a kiss. “Thank you, Grandpa. I’ll see you after school.”
A wide smile lifts onto his face and he pulls away from the sidewalk.
I should’ve said yes, maybe everything else would’ve fallen into place. Maybe my libido would’ve come roaring back, maybe the desire to be held and cared for would’ve taken me over and I would finally be able to move on with my life. Ryan brings me so much peace. I’m overthinking this, like I have everything else since Max disappeared.
I swing open the glass doors and step inside the building. The halls are nearly empty except for a few students who are standing in line at the bookstore and another few at the vending machines. I glance down at my cellphone. I’m a minute late. It’s the first day of class so I bet the professor will be forgiving, but I don’t like drawing attention to myself. I haven’t since the day Max disappeared. I don’t know why everything comes back to that. Why can’t a late day just be a late day?
I move faster, hustling down the hall and toward Room 104. Philosophy. I’ve saved this class to the last semester because everyone says it’s easy. I wanted to get the hard shit out of the way before my brain was completely fried, hence taking economics first. Math has most definitely never been my strong suit. I can’t even fake it. Swinging the door open slowly, I slide inside, carefully closing it as to not draw too much attention. The professor is already talking about something. Oddly enough, I think he’s lecturing about how important attendance is.
I don’t look up much as I make my way to the last row of seats and slink down, pulling out a notebook and pencil to look busy.
“Ms. Tyler,” the man says. His voice is deep and rumbling, sending a chill straight through me. I’ve heard the voice before, but I can’t place it. “Nice of you to join us.”
My gaze flashes up and my heart stops. In the front of the lecture hall, standing in opposite an oversized chalkboard, is the guy from the bar. The man with the watch. No way a professor can afford a watch like that.
My throat swells and constricts, air caught somewhere between my breastbone and my esophagus, as though my body is trying to tell me something. The man is wearing pressed navy slacks and a white button down with the sleeves rolled up, his tattoos showing.
Fuck. Who the hell is this guy?How did he know my name? Sure, he has a class list, but how did he know it wasmy facethat was missing? Maybe he took attendance, and I was the only one absent. That’s probably the case. But still, this whole thing is weird as fuck.
I swallow hard and stare back at him with heavy bated breath. Maybe I should leave, find another philosophy class. No, I can’t do that. This was the only class left to choose from and I need this credit to graduate.
I suck in a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut as I tell myself the reassuring statements the therapist has suggested I use.
No one is following me. I am safe. No one is following me. I am safe.
I try to calm my brain, but it keeps spinning faster.
What if this guy is the guy that left the ten grand? What if he wanted Max to follow him out of the bar? What if he killed Max? What if he killed the real philosophy instructor? What if he’s following me? What if I’m next?
Hyperventilation begins and I start to suck air in faster than my body can process it.
Calm down, Everleigh. No one is following me. I am safe. No one is following me. I am safe.
I open my eyes slowly, my lashes lifting, the tiny fibers of hair filtering up as I stare at a solid white wall.
“Ms. Tyler,” the man says, his voice rumbling. He’s less than a foot from my desk, his wide body standing like a glacial rock in front of me. What is it about my name on his tongue that sends a shiver up my spine and straight into my groin? I’m going to need more therapy for that one.
My brows narrow and I resituate in my seat. I’m not actually turned on by this guy. It’s impossible, aside from the fact that I’ve created a murder conspiracy against him. He actuallydoeslook murderous, which is so not my thing. Lucy’s maybe, but not me. Maybe it’s the pheromones. Maybe he has extra or something. Is that a thing? I should check with a biology major.
The man’s eyes sit on mine, hot and heavy as he leans onto my desk. “You’re late,” he growls.
I swallow hard. “I’m sorry, I—”
“There are consequences for being late, Ms. Tyler. See me after class.” His words are deep and ominous, leaving my core shaking as he walks away.
After class?There is no way I’m staying after class.
Then again, if he does happen to be the actual teacher, I’d be insubordinate which would mean forfeiting the class, which would mean no graduation, which would mean the money Lucy paid to help me would be squandered.
I need to stay. I need to talk to this guy. I need to ask him point-blank, who thehellhe is.
Chapter Five
Everleigh
Professor Viktor Novikov. For eighty-six minutes, I move my gaze carefully between the enormous man in front of the classroom and the syllabus, studying the two as though he’s standing in a line-up, waiting for my murder conviction. I shouldn’t be doing this, considering I’ve just decided that listening to my therapist is a wise decision. I not only value my mental health, but I value Ryan’s and he’s trying so hard to love me despite my many, many, many flaws.
