Page 62 of Broken by my Bully (Lessons in Cruelty Dark Academia #1)

Haven

I’m making an absolute pig of myself, but Bastian should know I don’t play around when I’m eating. I revere food. Anyone who’s spent as many nights without supper as I have would too.

Meanwhile, he’s watching me like I’m the meal. Like he wants to know what sounds I’d make with something else in my mouth.

It should make me uncomfortable as hell. But the fucked up thing is, I’m performing for him. Every bite, every swallow, every time I lick sauce off my fingers is all for him.

“You’re right, this is the best taco in town,” he says, wiping his mouth with a napkin before sipping his beer. He turns around, giving the stand a quick scan. “Can’t believe I haven’t heard about this place before.”

“People that side of the Agony River tend to stay that side.” I don’t know if it’s the food or the alcohol, but I’m feeling so relaxed I could put my head down and sleep for a week. Or just kick back and listen to some music, like we did at Bastian’s house the other night.

Shit. I totally forgot what this lunch was all about.

I push the sorry remains of my meal away. I’m stuffed, but I wouldn’t put it past me to lick the traces of guacamole left in the wrappers.

“So, uh, the vibe isn’t exactly what I was going for, Professor, but?—”

“Vibe?” Bastian pauses en route to tearing into his last taco, and I feel shitty for stopping him in his tracks like that. He puts it back in the basket and wipes his mouth again, taking his time, glancing around like he’s people watching.

We both look up when thunder rumbles in the distance.

“This was supposed to be my treat,” I say.

His gaze is sharp when it lands on me again. “I apologize if I’ve given you the wrong impression.”

A spike of panic goes through me. “What do you mean?”

He takes another sip of beer, sets it down and turns it on its axis for a moment as he looks away. “Miss Lee, listen to me carefully.”

Fuck, that panic spreads through my body, tingling in my fingertips. How the hell did I piss him off so quickly? There’s a sudden tightness at the corner of his eyes that I’m not imagining. The way his fist curls around his beer.

His eyes flick back to mine, and I can’t bear the eye contact he’s making, but I’m too scared to look away.

“You’re making this into something it’s not. You needed a place to stay. There was space at the sorority. You needed reliable transportation. I had a spare car.”

His voice is so reasonable. So calm.

Like I’m the crazy one for thinking a professor who calls his “sweet girl” at three in the morning to check up on her might want something more. Like the hand on my back never happened. Like the way he’s gripping that beer bottle isn’t exactly how he wants to grip my throat.

“I didn’t mean?—“

I cut off at a shake of his head. He glances away again, then back in my direction, but looking past me, not at me.

“I’m just trying to help,” he mutters .

“Yes, of course, and I know that, but it’s just…it’s a lot, okay?”

He’s still not looking at me, and I need him to. Maybe to better gauge his response, maybe because having him look at me is a weird fucking obsession I’ve developed over the past few days.

No one’s looked at me the way he has. With so much respect. Admiration. And genuine curiosity.

I grab his arm, squeezing the muscles beneath.

His gaze returns, his nostrils flaring as if I’ve made it worse somehow. But then he lays a hand over mine, squeezing me back.

“Is it really?” he asks quietly. “Or are you just not used to getting nice things?”

…From anyone who doesn’t want to fuck you, he doesn’t say.

But we both hear it.

I try to pull my hand away, frowning, but he tightens his grip, keeping me locked in place. His thumb finds my pulse. Presses.

He wants to talk about our relationship?

It just climbed over the barrier at Lookout Point wearing even shittier flip-flops than the ones I have on.

Fuck, that feels like an eternity ago.

But whatever I thought that night, it led me here, and here is a hell of a lot better than where I would have been.

Which would be dead.

Or in a coma.

Or, a paraplegic.

I mean, my life still sucks, but at least I have my health.

And someone who cares about me enough to give me nice things.

Movement catches my eye. Bastian must spot Milo headed our way at the same time I do. He lets go of my hand, and I slip it into my lap, bowing my head as I fight a furious blush.

“Need anything else over here?” Milo asks.

“No thank you.” Bastian gives him a small nod. “Your food is exceptional.”

“I know,” Milo says, then smiles faintly as he turns to me. “Nice to see you again, Haven. ”

I peek at him through my lashes, nodding, and he frowns at me before shaking his head and walking away.

“He likes you.” He says it as if he’s deciding whether Milo’s a problem that needs solving or not.

I throw Bastian a glare. “So?”

Bastian chuckles, but his eyes are dark as he tips his head back to drain the last of his beer. “Christ, don’t sound so defensive. It was merely an observation.”

“I wasn’t being—“ I cut off when I hear how defensive I sound.

“Let me walk you back,” Bastian says, standing.

I’m hoping he’ll take hold of my arm, or caress the small of my back again, but he keeps a careful distance between us. Guess our talk did exactly what I needed it too.

Setting boundaries.

So why am I so pissed off that he doesn’t touch me again?

He waits for me to unlock the Land Rover’s door and then holds it open for me as I get in. “Straight back to the sorority house,” he says, lifting his eyebrows as he starts to close the door.

I’m about to tell him I have a shift at the diner when he adds, “See you later.”

“Later?” I squeak.

“At the gala?” He curls his fingers over the top of the door, leaning against the edge. We’re too close again. His scent enveloping me, his eyes too beautiful to look away from.

“Oh. That .” I laugh as I shake my head. “Yeah, I’m not going.”

There’s a bemused smile on his mouth. “I thought you girls couldn’t wait to put on your pretty dresses and parade around like—“ He cuts off, mouth tightening.

I swing my legs out of the car, leaning in even closer. “Were you going to say grown-ups?”

His hands tighten on the top of the car door as he looks away to chuckle. “Christ, I just keep fucking this up.”

…this …

That word releases a cloud of frantic butterflies into my gut.

After he’d just gone to lengths to tell me I’m imagining this.

“I don’t own any pretty dresses,” I snap. “As you’re well aware.”

His lips tighten into a line. He looks at me from the corner of his eye, his fingers still white where he’s gripping the door.

“Should I just have tossed your trash bags in the back of my Land Rover and not given it a second thought?”

“Yeah. Maybe.” I meant to be more vehement about it, but he took the fucking wind out of my sails by being so damn psychic.

“Well, tough shit. I did you a favor instead. Deal with it.”

“You’re mean.”

“And you’re a brat. But you’re not the first brat I’ve had to deal with.” He laughs at my expression. “Close your mouth before you catch a fly.”

“That’s it. I’m leaving.” I reach for the door handle, but Bastian captures my wrist, refusing to let go even when I tug.

“Not yet. We have an errand to run.”

“I have to go.” I still have two hours before my shift starts, but I planned to spend the time studying.

“Nope. You’re coming with me, missy.”

He half drags me out of the car, not seeming to care that Milo’s watching from the taco stand. Watching my professor manhandle me in broad daylight. Watching me not scream for help.

Because we both know I won’t.

We both know I want this.

He shuts the door, wrestles the keys out of my hand, and locks it.

Then shoves them in his pocket.

“Hey!”

He lets go of my hand, urging me toward his Tesla with his fingers pressed to the small of my back.

“Get in the car, Haven.”

It’s never a request with him, always a command.

Thunder rumbles as I slide onto the soft leather seat, and it has the audacity to be ominous about it. The door locks automatically behind me .

I could have dug in my heels. I might have lost a flip-flop, but at least I’d have won the battle.

But I don’t fight, because I enjoy spending time with Bastian, even when we’re arguing and I’m so frustrated I want to slap him. And it’s obvious he likes being with me too, even though I keep challenging him at every turn.

What does that say about me?

What does that say about him ?