Page 166 of Cruel When He Smiles

His eyes search mine, looking for the crack that’ll let him wedge in his control again. I don’t give it to him. Instead, I step into his space, sliding my hands up over his chest until my palms rest just under his collarbone. His heart is steady under my touch, and I know exactly what I’m doing.

“I’m fine,” I say again, softer now, letting it sink into him the way his words usually sink into me. “You’ve got me. She can’t touch that.”

His breath hitches, and I keep my hands where they are, my thumb brushing absently against the edge of his collar. “Let me go to class,” I coax, looking him right in the eye. “You can pick me up after, and we’ll get my phone together. No risk. No surprises.”

His eyes narrow like he’s weighing the deal. Then his mouth curves slightly, but his hands come up to bracket my face. “You’re sweet when you’re trying to manipulate me,” he says finally, his tone almost amused.

“Sweet works on you,” I counter, softening my voice to make it sound more coaxing than defiant. “So, let me go. Let me show up and be fine so you don’t have to hover like I’m breakable.”

His gaze drifts over my face, before coming back up. “You’re not breakable,” he says, and for the first time this morning, it doesn’t sound like a warning—it sounds like an admission.

“Then stop acting like I am.”

For a moment, I think he’s going to dig his heels in just to win. But then his jaw loosens and he exhales slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Straight to the stadium. Straight to class. No detours.”

“Promise.”

“And if your phone isn’t there—”

“I’ll call you from Sage’s. Or borrow a campus phone. Or scream your name until you show up,” I add with a faint grin.

He shakes his head, but there’s the barest ghost of a smirk pulling at his mouth now. “Go before I change my mind.”

I grab my bag and lean in to press my lips to his jaw. “You’re the best, you know that?”

His hand catches the back of my neck before I can pull away, holding me there for half a second longer. “I know,” he says, but his voice is quieter now, almost reluctant. “Just… keep your eyes open.”

“I will.” I step back, giving him a small smile before heading for the door. “You’ll take care of it, remember?”

His eyes follow me out, and even though he doesn’t say it, I can feel the unspokenalwaystrailing after me as I go.

Liam

Myphonebuzzesonthe desk, Killian’s name flashing across the screen. I don’t hesitate—when he calls unannounced, it’s never for something that can wait. I lean back in my chair, stretching my legs out under my desk.

“Tell me you have good news,” I say by way of greeting.

“I have perfect news,” he replies, and I can hear the faint clink of his lighter flipping open and shut. He’s in a good mood, which is either a sign that something has gone exactly according to plan, or it’s exactly the opposite and he’s enjoying the chaos.

“According to Evelyn Carter’s office, she left on Monday and told her PA she’ll be gone for a while.” He pauses as if he’s waiting for me to keep up, but I’m already there. “Her assistant is trying to play it off as a sudden vacation. No itinerary, no calls, nothing. That works for us.”

I hum, the sound low and thoughtful. She hasn’t contacted Nate in four days and hasn’t been seen since. “She didn’t tellanyone? So, that means she didn’t pencil me in at all. That’s good. Gives us a longer window before anyone starts panicking.”

“It’s better than good,” Killian says, the edge in his voice sharpening. “It means we can control the narrative before it gets messy. The problem is—”

“There’s always a problem,” I cut in. He’s never been able to resist dangling bad news like bait.

“She was seen at Nate’s frat.” His tone flattens, all amusement gone. “Two separate people confirmed it. That means she wasn’t just wandering around town playing tourist; she came for him. But we can spin that if need be, since he has a protection order against her. Won’t matter, either way.”

“Because she’s not going to be around long enough for it to matter,” I finish for him.

There’s a faint smile in his voice when he says, “Exactly.”

I shift in my seat, my hand curling loosely around the phone. “I don’t want her near him again. Once was too much.”

“She won’t be,” he says, calm in a way that makes most people trust him right before they realize they shouldn’t.

My knee bounces under the desk, the only outward crack in the façade I’ve been holding onto since the moment Nate sat on my lap in that shirt and told me he wanted her gone. “You’re sure she hasn’t been seen anywhere else?”