Page 14 of Loving the Tormentor

Shoving his wallet back in his jeans, he looks at me, smiling, wrinkles showing around his eyes and mouth. He's got a black eye from a bar fight last week, so I'm hoping he's not going back there, at least.

"It's Thursday night. Why don't you stay in with me?" I show him the sheet I'm holding. "Wanna do some math together to see how poor wereallyare?"

His throaty laugh turns into a cough, and I roll my eyes at him.

"You smoke too much."

"I drink too much, too." He chuckles sadly. "See you later, sweetpea."

A sound of exasperation leaves me, and I go back to the calculator app on my phone. The pass for the parking lot is almost the same as our rent here. Driving to college every day is going to cost me everything just to park there. But it's not like I could ever afford their campus accommodations. I open the map app on my phone and check for the nearest free parking to the campus. A half-hour walk, not counting the path uphill once you pass the SFU gates.

I guess I'll leave an hour earlier than anticipated.

A knock on my door startles me, and my phone pings at the same time with a text from Chase.

Chase: It's me.

He knows I don't open the door to anyone unless I'm told in advance who's knocking. We've had too many men come here to collect. Chase being one of them at one point.

"Hi, Nyxie." He smiles as he walks in, his eyes devouring me before his lips do.

"Hello." I giggle once he finally lets me go.

He pulls out the bubblegum he just accidentally stole out of my mouth. "I hate that shit. You're not a kid. Just buy normal fucking gum."

I shrug. "I like the taste and how hard it is to chew."

His hand goes under my oversized tee, and he caresses my breast. "No bra. Nice."

I shake my head, heading back to the sofa. "I don't have time for sex right now. I'm trying to see where I can save money."

I don't love discussing this with him. The conversation about me going to SFU didn't exactly go well when I finally told him I got accepted.

He slumps onto the sofa and puts an arm around my shoulders. "Need help with anything?"

The surprise must be written on my face because he laughs as he messes my hair.

"Come on, don't look so shocked. I hate that you're leaving me, but I'm not going to let you get eaten by those rich fucks. How much do you need?"

I show him the list, and as he reads, his eyes go wider and wider.

"Wait…the Wi-Fi and library fees aren't included in tuition?"

I shake my head. "And apparently, I have to pay for orientation fees, too. Which was a five-minute chat with a rude woman today."

His look of disgust worsens my anxiety. "So that's what millionaires do with their money? Throw it away on their kids' designer uniforms?"

"And that's without my textbooks, music sheets, and whatever my course will require."

He huffs, brushing the top of his short hair back and forth.

"I mean, I could cover the uniform," he says.

"And I don't need the parking permit. I can park down the road."

"Or I could drop you off."

A sprinkle of excitement warms my stomach. We’re going to be okay. He's finally supporting this dream of mine.