Page 148 of Almost Ravaged

“What can I say, Professor? You inspire me.”

He emits a low growl, and I’m about to say fuck it and reach for him when I catch sight of movement in my periphery.

At the sound of a throat clearing, I straighten. The sultry voice that follows makes my hackles rise.

“Professor Eden?”

A tall, lithe woman about my age stands before us. She’s wearing a thick wool coat—go figure—and her honey-gold hair is curled in big waves that cascade around her shoulders. She’s very pretty, her flawless skin accentuated by her subtle makeup.

“Hello, Ms. Miller.”

As soon as he says her name, I know.

They were together. He was with this supermodel of a human. And if the way she’s assessing me is any indication, she wasn’t the one to end it.

I don’t trust myself to speak as jealousy claws at my insides. I sidestep, fully prepared to bow out of this interaction.

Mercer shifts, closing the space I just put between us.

“I-I didn’t think you liked hockey,” the woman before us says with a stilted laugh.

Mercer leans in close enough that our arms brush, his eyes boring into the side of my head. I can’t look at him right now. I don’t want any clues about what they once shared. Just like I don’t want to consider whether this is what we’ll be when what we have ends. Two strangers, one longing to reconnect while the other delivers the cold shoulder.

With a small sigh, he gives up and turns back to the other woman.

“I don’t particularly care for hockey, no. But my girlfriend loves the sport, and her brother is on the team. Alas, here we are.”

“Your—oh.” Her eyes go wide for a moment before she reins in her features.

My cheeks heat, and I’m sure my chest is crimson under my jersey. Did he just call me hisgirlfriend? I guess when we talked about public displays of affection, we should have discussed public declarations of affection, too.

“It was nice to see you, Ms. Miller. Enjoy the game.” Mercer places one hand at my back to steer me into the crowd.

He walks at a clipped pace, only coming to a stop when we’re on the other side of the lobby near the uncrowded entrance of the rec rink. With a long sigh, he offers me a placating smile.

“I’m sorry about that. Are you bothered?” he asks.

A fiery blast of rage detonates inside me.

Am Ibothered?

Of course I’m fucking bothered.

“She was your student?” I ask, my tone sharp.

His is calm, gentle. “She was, yes.”

I tilt my chin up and scrutinize him. “And you fucked her?”

He winces. “Yes. But notwhileshe was my student.”

I snort. “Of course not. Youarewell-versed in the university’s handbook and policies, Professor.”

With a low growl, he crowds my space and presses me flat against the glass at my back.

He’s standing so close I have to strain back to meet his gaze. “Watch it, Ms. Davvies. Unless you want me to find a more meaningful purpose for this smart little mouth.”

I shudder, and a heartbeat later, all the fight drains from my limbs.