Page 37 of Almost Ravaged

It’s physics-defying, really. How is it possible the fabric looks like it’s been painted onto her body?

“Okay. I’ve got my laptop, charger, battery pack, notebooks, sticky notes, good pens, back-up pens, and my phone. Oh.” She picks up the sweater with a flourish, then turns back to face me. “Can’t forget this.”

She lifts her crossbody bag, but before she can sling it over her shoulder, I take it from her hand.

“I’ve got it,” I insist, looping the strap over my shoulder along with that of my own school bag.

“You don’t—”

I stride toward the door and pull it open. “I said I’ve got it. Let’s go.”

She gives up quickly, thank fuck, and steps out into the hall. I breathe a little easier once I follow her out of her personal space. She’s only lived here a week, and yet her room already smells distinctly like her: warm vanilla, sweet apples, and spicy notes of cinnamon.

Sawyer drapes her sweater over one arm, then pulls the door shut behind her and confirms that it’s locked before turning on her heel to face me.

“Do you need sunscreen?” I ask. It’s early, but it’s a ten-minute walk to the business building, and with that much skin exposed…

The way her eyes go wide confirms that my concern is over the top.

I shrug, playing it off like I don’t actually care. “I’ve spent every summer for the last decade rubbing gross green goo all over Atty after hockey camp because, without fail, he steps into the sun and instantly burns.”

It’s true, but the driving force here is my concern for her. I can’t stand the idea of her discomfort. Or the thought of her perfect pale skin marred by the sun. Of her in any semblance of pain.

Sawyer snickers. “He loves to pretend we aren’t the palest humans on the planet.”

As she brushes past me, I can’t help but inhale a little deeper, eager for a fix of her warm, honeyed scent.

“Unlike my brother,” she says, “I apply SPF every morning. Let’s go.”

I let her start down the hall without me, and when she’s several feet away, I check her doorknob.

Once I’ve confirmed that it’s locked, I follow. I give myself a moment to savor the view of her ass in that skirt before I lengthen my stride to catch up and fall into step at her side.

Chapter fifteen

Sawyer

“This… is less than ideal.”

I abuse my bottom lip, trying to keep it together as I check the wall clock above the closed classroom door.

Why didn’t I consider that there could be a class in the lecture hall before our Entrepreneurial Marketing seminar?

I press my back into the cool textured tiles of the wall directly across from the classroom and release a long exhale. Atty’s always yammering on about visualization before a game. Maybe if I visualize an empty classroom, I can will them to wrap it up early.

I just want to be in there already.

My anxiety about today is only amplified by Professor Eden’s lack of communication.

I emailed him last week to inform him that I was on campus and available to meet, as well as to ask how I could best prepare for the first day of classes.

My email was automatically forwarded to the department secretary, who responded with nothing more than what I already knew. That Professor Edenwas on sabbatical and would be back on campus before classes resumed on Monday.

On the other side of the door, chairs scrape along the floor and a murmur of voices can be heard.

I perk up, my heart lifting.Thank god.

Tytus snags my hand, wrapping strong, calloused fingers around my wrist. “Stay close. If we wait until they start funneling out, we’ll be swimming upstream. Let’s slip in now, okay?”