Page 16 of Never Let Go (Forbidden #1)

Chapter Sixteen

LAUREN

W iping a hand under my eye to get rid of the excess mascara, I let myself into the dorm room. Sydney isn’t back yet and with any luck, she found some random girl and won’t be back until morning.

I rub my arm where that asshole grabbed me, bruises starting to mar my skin from his tight grip.

My thoughts are completely jumbled, not only from the alcohol still flowing through my bloodstream but from the assault and Caleb.

I don’t have the brain power to deal with the chaos of emotions I’m currently feeling, so I take a quick shower, removing all traces of the night and crawl under my covers.

Hopefully tomorrow I can make more sense of what the hell happened.

I wake up to a drilling sound in my head. I try to open my eyes but the harsh sunlight from my open blinds causes me to shut them again. I roll over onto my back and try not to puke.

Did I drink that much last night or am I just a lightweight now?

I reach over and grab my phone, checking the time—10:01 a.m. Shit, I should really get up and check if Sydney got back okay.

I shuffle into the living room and put the coffee on while I find some Advil in the drawer. Popping a couple, I pour my coffee and head to the sofa, putting on a movie to pass the time. I must have dozed off as I wake up when Sydney comes through the door.

Sitting up, I rub my eyes. “Hey,” I croak,my voice still having the reminisce of sleep attached to it. “You’re back late.”

Sydney blushes and walks to her room with her head down. “Uh, yeah. I, uh, went for breakfast,” she mumbles low enough for me to hear.

I get up slowly, my head better than it was, but still pounding as I amble toward her room, propping myself up against her door frame. “Okaaaay… you’re being really weird right now. You good?” I ask.

“Yup.” She pops the P, still not looking at me.

Crossing my arms, I raise an eyebrow. “Alright.” She moves around her room, tidying up. “I’m gonna grab some food then study. Wanna watch something later?” I ask.

She finally looks up at me, a small smile on her face. “Sure,” she replies.

I’m worried about Syd, but I don’t push her. I sigh, grab my book bag from the table and head to my room.

We didn’t watch a film last night. Sydney never came out of her room, so I finished my assignments and fell asleep.

My lectures don’t start until this afternoon so I got up, showered and dressed in my usual leggings and hoodie and walked down to the Honey Pot, hoping to catch Raven.

I push through the door and her head pops up from under the counter. “Lauren, hey,” she greets with a smile.

“Hey, Raven,” I reply, giving her a small wave.

Grabbing a cup from the back counter, she asks, “Your usual?”

“Please.”

Once Raven’s finished making my coffee, I grab the cup and head to one of the tables out front.

I haven’t had any time to sit and work through what happened on Saturday night, and in all honesty I didn’t have the energy to.

It’s exhausting trying to field emotions when they pop out of nowhere—sat on the toilet, thoughts of Caleb.

Making a coffee, thoughts of Caleb. The man has implanted roots into me and I can’t cut them out.

So I sit, gazing out across campus as I sip on my too hot coffee and try to compartmentalize.

First—asshole. Did he scare me? Absolutely.

Will I let his actions worry me and hold me back?

Not a chance. I’m not going to let some guy who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer get to me.

He’s not worth it. Taking the time to reflect on my actions, I know that the alcohol in my body had caused me to act emotionally, which is why I clung on to Caleb when he ‘saved’ me.

Once I’ve decided that the asshole has been dealt with and filed away, my thoughts stray to Caleb—how he came to my defense, how he held me after, how he drove me home.

It shouldn’t give me butterflies to think about him and how he dealt with the asshole, and it definitely shouldn’t make my pussy clench at how low and dark his voice had gotten.

Nope, definitely not thinking about that .

He’s my professor, a man who’s completely off limits, a man who’s sixteen years my senior. Fuck sake, I need to get a grip on my emotions . Why couldn’t he be literally anyone else?

“Lauren, right?” a voice asks from behind me, startling me. I glance over my shoulder seeing a gorgeous guy looking straight at me. He’s got to be at least six feet with dark brown hair and a killer smile.

“Yeah…?” I ask because I have no clue who he is and how he knows my name.

He blushes and grips the handle of his satchel that’s across his shoulder. “Sorry, I’m Brad… Professor Anderson’s TA.”

“Oh, I’ve heard so much about you.” I smile at him and gesture for him to take a seat.

We chat for a while before I notice the time and start gathering my things.

“I can always help with any missed assignments if you need it,” Brad offers, as he stands up. I freeze instantly.

Huh?

Standing to my full height, I turn toward him, my brows furrowed with confusion. “Oh, I was told you were too busy.”

Brad scratches the back of his neck, looking just as confused as me. “I don’t know who told you that but I tutor other students so I have the time to help… if you want me to, of course.”

I swearing to fucking god. That absolute asshole.

I’m angry. No scratch that, I’m fucking fuming. Why would Caleb lie to me about Brad not being able to help when he clearly can?

“I would love that, thank you.”

“I thought it was weird when Professor Anderson said you didn’t need any help and you would catch up by yourself.”

I beg your fucking pardon ?

I give a barely there smile and hope he doesn’t pick up on the fact I’m about to kick Caleb’s ass.

As we’re heading in the same direction we walk together. The weather’s unseasonably warm for this time of year causing me to take off my hoodie, leaving me in just a tank top.

Brad’s a good conversationalist and even though Caleb’s flittering at the back of my mind, he’s not at the forefront like usual. Brad makes me laugh with his dry wit, so when he asks to see me again, I can’t help but say yes. We exchange numbers and a somewhat awkward half hug and say our goodbyes.

I get to class, sitting in my usual seat, pulling my laptop out and fire up my emails:

To: [email protected].

From:[email protected]

Subject: Services No Longer Required.

Dear Professor Anderson,

I had the pleasure of meeting your TA, Brad, today, who has kindly informed me that he is available to undertake helping me catch up with my studies.

Due to this, I will no longer require your tutelage.

Best wishes,

Lauren Taylor

Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Caleb.

With a sick satisfaction, I close down my emails and concentrate on my lecture.