Page 17

17

I silently followed Damen as I reveled in amazement at what had just transpired.

Being able to stand up to Bryce, albeit very briefly, had become one of the most liberating experiences of my life. In fact, I couldn’t help but bask in the knowledge that I’d actively defied him. Maybe I’d even hurt his feelings.

In the end, the reality was thus: he’d wanted something, and he didn’t get it.

Who was he to demand my attention? My obedience?

He was no one.

Perhaps I could continue to refuse compliance. I did not care if he was some fae official. In my world, he was a lowly student teacher of a subject of which he had yet to achieve mastery. It wasn’t like he had the power to dictate my grades, and, in return, my academic future and life.

Or could he?

My light-footed steps became more weighted, and it became harder to follow Damen. What if …

Even though we’d long since left the building, I could still imagine Bryce behind us with a disapproving frown. I didn’t even understand what Officers were, but they sounded important.

And I’d instigated a fight against him.

What if he was plotting his revenge at this very moment? I knew I’d be.

Oh my. I clutched my hand to my chest. What had I done?

I felt like puking.

“What’s wrong?” Damen, who’d been walking slowly to account for my tiny legs and cowardice, had kept pace with me. Our eyes met, and he scowled. It was such a horrible expression on such an attractive face, and I regretted causing it. “Did something happen before I got there? Should I kill him?”

“No.” I shook my head. Such violent extremes were not necessary. Yet. After all, where would that leave the fae? They would probably be divided and leaderless, with much chaos, and some other sucker would have to be tricked into controlling them.

It sounded like a dreadful job, which made it perfect for Bryce.

“I was just thinking…” I began, touching my fingertips to my bottom lip. I should have never challenged him, but it’d been so hard to ignore his baiting. “Do you think he’s angry?”

“Bryce?” Damen asked, eyebrow raising. “He’s not angry.”

“Why?” I asked. “Is it because he has no emotions?”

“No…” Damen replied. “Bryce has emotions. Almost too many—sometimes, it makes him act without thinking. He’s just good at hiding them.”

I was right then, initially. There had to be a reason for his attention. “So he hates me.”

It was why he’d targeted me from day one, and why he wouldn’t look away from me in class. I hadn’t imagined his disdain .

“He doesn’t hate you—at least, not from what I can tell,” Damen replied. He looked over my shoulder at the building behind me. “He probably thinks you’re interesting. I believe he just wants to get to know you better.”

“I’m interesting?” I shifted my weight between my feet. That didn’t sound good. The word ‘interesting’ could be used to describe only the most horrible of science experiments.

Or it also could be an adjective to describe, maybe, a potential mate.

Either option did not sound promising.

“He’s not my type,” I said. It was essential that Damen understand this. “I won’t go out with him.”

Damen’s musing daydream shattered, and he frowned. “I wouldn’t expect you to anyway,” he said, hurriedly—almost too quickly, in fact.

I wrinkled my nose. That was more than a bit offensive; I couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t entertain the idea, at the very least. I wasn’t the worst catch in the world.

“Stop doing that or your face will get stuck that way.” Damen placed his hand on my head. I narrowed my eyes as my hackles rose. How dare he treat me like a child. “You’re too good for him.”

My heart fluttered as my breath released. Me. Too good for Bryce Dubois?

How could it be that, with one sentence, Damen had the ability to melt through my emotions? Why couldn’t I stay angry at him?

“Besides,” he continued, “ you two are too alike to date. You’d murder each other.”

I gasped and pushed my hand to my chest. What lies and scandal. He pretended that I hadn’t reacted, though, and walked away .

I had no time to be offended. I had to run to catch up with him lest I be abandoned.

“What?” Whatever could he mean by that horrible accusation? I had nothing in common with Bryce Dubois, my mortal enemy.

“Do you even know why you hate him?” Damen asked, distracting me from what was sure to be a colorful internal rant. “Usually fae are naturally inclined to respect him. Does he make you feel threatened?” His words were nonchalant, as was his lazy posture, but there was a heaviness to his question that made me feel as though he was paying very, very close attention to my words.

“Yes,” I grumbled, crossing my arms. Of course, I was protecting myself against the cold—I wasn’t feeling defensive. There was no reason to be. “He undermines me.”

“Really?” Damen tilted his head, sounding genuinely curious. “How so?”

I opened my mouth but found that, under immediate pressure, I couldn’t put my feelings into words. The same thing happened when Finn asked a similar question.

Yet, how could I describe that initial impression between Bryce and me?

I began the class only having heard positive rumors about my biology professor’s assistant. Bryce was supposed to be a brilliant botanist, and very dependable. I’d hoped we could at least get along. And since I’d heard his research aligned with my own interests, I’d hoped that maybe we’d even work together, eventually.

He sounded like a good person to get to know.

The class started. On that first day, he lurked in the corner of the room while Professor Hamway went through introductions and reviewed the syllabus. He seemed decent enough, albeit a bit bored. I was bored too. I thought he might not be so bad.

Then he looked at me.

Our eyes met, and my blood chilled. There was no curiosity or even warmth in his gaze.

Instead, there was a challenge in his stare and stance. Almost as if he’d found the sight of me personally offensive. He was imposing, and a little scary, which shouldn’t have been weird, since I was afraid of everything.

But even though it was out of character for me, I felt as though I shouldn’t look away first.

Yet, in the end, I still did. I couldn’t explain, but, on that day, I’d lost.

I’d hated him from that moment on. He was my rival. It was embarrassing, nor did it make sense. And I would have hoped that, by now, I’d have been able to come up with an eloquent answer to this question.

Otherwise, I really did feel petty.

“I don’t know,” I said instead. “He just does.” And it sounded so stupid.

And Damen, like Finn, only nodded in response. How was it that they were able to understand my emotions even when I didn’t?

“You’ll be fine,” Damen said. “You don’t need to worry so much about him. But”—there was a certain appraising glint in his eyes as he spoke to me—“if you ever need advice on how to keep him in line, I’m here.”

“Okay.” I dug my fingers over my arms and chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Thanks…” I wasn’t worried, right? Still, knowing that Damen was offering to help me with Bryce. It was such an odd thing, especially when we had bigger issues out there.

But still …

What happened to the knot in my stomach? What happened to my nerves?

Usually, I would be worked up for hours. Yet, somehow, Damen’s reassurances had been able to both distract and reassure me.

I was going to be okay.

But even more importantly, I wanted to know…

How did Damen have all this confidence? It would be nice to learn.

He hadn’t hesitated to help me, and Bryce hadn’t intimidated him at all. Even now, as my own nerves frayed at the faceless students milling around us in the common courtyard, Damen appeared to be completely unfazed by the crowd.

My focus was returning to the present, away from my comfortable anger and worry, and back to the reality that we were both very much standing in public view. A new sort of nervousness touched me.

Surely, people were watching, wondering who I was.

Obviously, they knew Damen.

I was certain he’d be recognizable even outside his role. He was a distinguishable figure in his dark gray suit. He didn’t have a jacket though, and I wasn’t sure if he’d forgotten it when coming to my rescue, or if he might run naturally hot. Standing beside him had a way of making my body temperature rise. Besides, now that we were in public, it was easier to see that he had a different air from everyone else.

It was impossible not to be drawn into his presence.

Why couldn’t I stay away? He had to have done something to me.

Not that I cared anymore, really—we were friends. But it was the principal of the matter. How could I so easily go from thinking he was very cheesy to very cool ?

It felt like ages had passed from the old days he was cornering me in the library and I’d wanted to break his face.

I was so conflicted.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” he asked, smiling, and this time I didn’t want to hit him.

Somehow, even the horrible nickname had grown to be charming. I bit my bottom lip as the back of my neck became uncomfortably hot.

My nerves screamed with the urge to fidget, but I resisted. “W-what are we going to do?”

Didn’t he say we had plans? I’d yet to learn what these plans were.

Damen looked at his watch and answered, “I have an hour before my next class starts, and you meet up with Miles.” He smirked, and his eyes twinkled. “I know that’s not long, but we can make it work. There are many fun things that a man and woman can do to pass the time. Where do you think we should start?”

The warm feeling in my chest vanished. Why was he like this?

He was supposed to have had a real plan! Why was it suddenly my responsibility to come up with an itinerary? I didn’t even have time to make a list.

I touched the corner of my lips with my pointer finger. It was a bit disconcerting and a little bit unfair to have been thrust into a leadership role. I’d have thought that a man of his intellect would be more creative.

But it was what it was.

Damen was a conundrum.

I suppose we could grab a pre-dinner snack, but would that offend Miles? He was going to cook tonight. “I guess…” I began, my gaze moving toward the library building.

Old habits died hard, and I deserved a treat .

“Should we stop for coffee?” I asked.

He looked in the opposite direction. “Actually, I was thinking we could sneak into the liberal arts building. There’s no one in Gregory’s office right now.”

That seemed problematic. Was Dr. Stephens abandoning his responsibilities? Besides, I highly doubted that Damen had the ability to sneak in anywhere. “Are you supposed to be covering office hours then?” I sighed. “Fine, I’ll go get coffee by myself.”

“Er…” Damen looked at me, his pace slowing, and the happy lift at the corner of his mouth dropped slightly. “No.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Never mind. I wanted to do some research, but it can wait.”

“Oh.” We stopped walking. I’d taken him away from his work, and now I felt bad. I really didn’t want to inconvenience his routine. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Damen bent over, trying to meet my eyes.

“Y-you were busy,” I pointed out. He’d literally just said this. “And I interrupted you with my drama. You can finish your research. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“I’m still doing my research.” Damen touched my chin, urging my face toward his. “I’m just adapting my strategy to changing circumstances.” Was it just me, or was his voice deeper?

I blinked before I saw it, that super annoying look again.

Stupid flirty expression. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I’d have thought he’d put this silliness behind him already.

A chilly breeze wafted between us.

“I’m getting a coffee,” I told him and pulled away. While I was grateful for his help, he could take his promiscuous shenanigans elsewhere .

Or he could stand here and freeze. It made no difference to me.

I just wanted nothing to do with it.

“You do realize,” Damen began, eyeing the paper cup in front of me, “you’ve added enough extras to have made it resemble anything but a coffee.” He paused his unwarranted lecture to sip at his own sweetener-free, extremely strong, espresso-laden caffeine.

My eyebrow twitched. Was he trying to annoy me?

He’d chosen to follow me here, but, on top of that, also hadn’t shut up since. Normally Finn and I lounged around in companionable silence while we each worked on our personal projects or languished in our private thoughts.

But not Damen.

Why did I ever think he was charming? With him, there was never a moment of peace. He was pushy and loud. Not only did he insist on paying, but he’d happened to choose the same table that Finn and I frequented.

And his comments never ended. Thankfully, they were mostly queries about my likes and dislikes, and which subjects I preferred in school.

But still, my head was starting to hurt. I couldn’t think.

“Do you put extra milk and sugar in everything you drink?” he asked, not at all perturbed at my glare.

“No.” My lip curled. One could not put milk and sugar into everything consumed. That would be disgusting.

“Do you like honey?” Damen rambled on.

“Yes.” Who didn’t?

He had to be running out of questions soon, right? Besides, who cared? Some of these questions were asinine. What did it matter what shampoo I used?

But at least he stopped staring at me in that weird way.

Still, how did he have so much energy? My attention drifted to his extra-large coffee cup as a stab of self-deprecation and realization shot through me.

How did I not realize? Finn, too, was adversely affected by caffeine in such a way. It was my fault for not stopping it, and now, I must suffer the consequences.

“I have another question for you,” Damen began, and this time he reached across the table. The suddenness of the action—the feel of his hand over mine—made me jump.

“What?” Why did my pulse skip?

“Do you have any distinguishable marks on your body?” Damen grinned. His gray, caffeine-affected eyes sparkled innocently. Yet, the sudden turn in questioning made my breath catch in my throat.

Maybe I had misheard? “Wh-what?”

Damen’s smile faltered as his attention moved to my trembling lips.

“Why are you scared?” he asked, correctly picking up on my hesitation. His mischievous expression dropped. “Everyone has birthmarks and such.”

Yes, I knew that, but…

Why ask me that particular question?

“Excuse me, Professor Abernathy.”

I started as a wavy-haired brunette appeared beside our small, round table, shattering the momentary delusion that the outside world had ceased to exist. Damen’s constant questioning had thrown me off my guard, and I’d missed her approaching.

Still, I was grateful for the interruption.

I sucked in a breath, willing my flustered thoughts to settle as he was distracted. The girl—presumably another student—pushed her dainty fists against her faded jeans as she squared her polka dot patterned-covered shoulders and faced Damen.

“I was in your Introduction to Psych class last year,” she began and shifted her weight to her other leg. Clearly this was a much-practiced speech. “And you told me that we could go out once I wasn’t your student anymore. So, I’m here. I’m ready to be your girlfriend.”

I was shocked. His foolish lines actually worked?

I leisurely sipped my drink and allowed my attention to move to Damen.

How would he respond? I didn’t want to miss a single moment. Judging from his attitude thus far, he was probably thrilled at his potential success at having secured a mate.

But what I saw surprised me.

His relaxed expression had dropped. Instead, his happy eyes had turned into sharp alertness, and he was frowning. “No, thanks,” he said. “You’re a cute girl, but I think there’s been a miscommunication. I don’t date.”

I blinked. How was that? His entire demeanor thus far had indicated the exact opposite.

Her skin flushed, and she stepped back. “Oh,” she replied, her tone hurried. “I didn’t mean it like that . I was just saying—”

“The answer is ‘no.’ The slip in your words indicates that you’re far more invested than I’d like,” Damen interrupted. “Now, please leave; I’m in the middle of a conversation.” He turned from her and picked up his cup. I stared at him, struggling to understand how—within the space of one instant—he could switch from flamboyant playboy to this cold, surly person.

Her shyness passed, and she moved closer, pressing her hands against the top of the table. “That’s not what I meant,” she said again .

Our table was small, and since Damen was so tall, his shins touched my knees. It was only because of that that I knew something was wrong.

He appeared to be the picture of indifference, but I could feel that his leg—the furthest away from her—was bouncing up and down.

Why was he nervous?

Thankfully, though, I had experience in these matters. Usually, it only took a small distraction for most admirers to lose confidence. They only needed something to give them an escape to avoid further embarrassment.

But this school was a new place—a fresh start. Did I really want to go down this route again?

“Did you know that the muffins here are really good?” I said. Even though my heart was pounding, and Damen and the girl looked at me like I was the most outlandish person ever, I pressed forward. “Have you tried them yet?”

Damen’s features relaxed, but he was still, obviously, confused. “No,” he replied.

“What about you?” I asked her, my chest tight. Her plans had been derailed, and the upset redness in her cheeks was gone.

“No…” Her voice was quieter now, so much I couldn’t hear. I could read what she was saying easily enough. “Maybe I’ll try one.” She’d looked to the floor, but her gaze flickered up to Damen as she added, “Sorry.”

And then she was gone, her back to us as she moved to the line.

“Are you sure you’re in the right major?” Damen pursed his lips as he watched her retreat. “You seem to have a knack for psychology.”

I scoffed as the weight pushing down against my shoulders vanished. I’d helped him at great risk to myself, and he insulted me. “Hardly.” I pushed my half-empty cup to the center of the table. I was no longer in the mood. “S-sorry for interrupting, but there was no other way without someone’s feelings getting hurt.”

“Yes.” Damen braced his chin in his hand. He’d returned to staring at me in that analytical way that caused my palms to sweat. “I’ve noticed you’re a fan of redirection techniques.”

I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Why don’t you date?” I asked.

He’d opened his mouth, probably to redirect the question back my way since talking about himself was apparently his least favorite thing to do, but then he hesitated. “I go out with people,” he said after a short pause.

“That’s not what I asked.” Now it was my turn to cross my arms over the table and stare him down. Being the inquisitor was kind of fun. “Have you ever even been in a committed relationship?”

Judging by his attitude, and the way his forehead wrinkled, probably not. His flirting had been surface-level, obviously without the barest hint of sincerity. It was quite clear that he was afraid of sharing himself too deeply.

“No,” Damen replied. He crossed his arms, defensive, and my self-assurance faltered.

Did I make him mad?

“What about you?” he asked.

Darn it, he did it again! I stared at him as my blood rushed to my head.

“Have you ever been in a serious relationship?” Damen was being meddlesome, but this time I couldn’t blame him. I’d prodded first.

“N-no.” My face was warm, but my hands were cold. “Not really…” The institution of dating usually led to placing oneself in vulnerable situations. I could barely stomach the thought .

“Really?” Damen frowned.

I shook my head and pressed my hands against my cheeks. This was becoming a dangerous conversation. “I had a crush on someone. It just never went anywhere.”

There was only one person who was safe and understood me. He would never push me to do anything I didn’t want.

Or at least, that’s what I’d always thought.

“Oh.” Damen’s face fell, and his voice turned contemplative. “Finn,” he added.

I sunk into my seat, nodding.

I must sound so pathetic, especially to him.

“Don’t worry.” Damen grabbed my hand. “I’ll find out what’s happening with him.” There was a solidness to his statement—a determination heavy in his unmoving posture—that made his appeal skyrocket. “I promise you, I’ll fix everything.”

The little light blinked from red to green as I swiped my school card through the electric card reader. The elaborate, chrome-framed doors opened, and I stepped inside the women’s only dormitory on campus.

I hadn’t planned on stopping by my room today, but considering the stares I’d gotten over the last forty-five minutes, it might be prudent to pick up some nicer clothes. I supposed news traveled fast on campus, and people were sure to notice a man like Damen hanging around little ol’ me.

I couldn’t stay looking like a complete slob.

Students milled about, moving through their daily routines, and even though I didn’t see anyone watching me, I felt as though I was the center of attention.

I didn’t like it .

Was it really that strange that I was friends with these men? I hoped not—it wasn’t often I felt this level of kinship with others. But what if, after the mystery ghost was saved, there was no reason for me to hang around Damen and the others anymore?

My eyes burned at the thought. It was surprising and alarming how attached I’d gotten in less than a few days.

But, despite our awkward afternoon coffee, I’d enjoyed spending time with Damen. He was a gentleman, even opening doors for me and holding out my chairs, and I’d been able to study his personality a little more.

But there was still some time to kill before we were set to reconvene at his house, which made this the perfect chance to re-evaluate my supplies.

None of the girls looked up as I passed the common room, and the rose-colored carpeted hallways were empty of people on my journey back to my room. Still, my roommate was here—her presence was obvious the instant I opened the oak door leading to our living quarters.

We’d been assigned a large, ground-level space with wood floors. Immediately to the left of the entrance were two single-wide beds with gold-framed headboards. The creamed-colored wall above my space was absent of decorations besides a string of twinkling fairy lights and a round, olive-colored alarm clock on the bedside table. In contrast, my roommate had a lava lamp on her table, and various posters featuring her favorite metal bands hung above both her bed and desk.

As always, I marveled at how cool she was.

I couldn’t hear anything. However, the warm, humid air and the open window made it easy to assume that Jiayi was taking a shower in our private bathroom.

Which meant we wouldn’t have hot water for a while—she always took the longest and hottest showers. I’d just have to bathe at Damen’s house.

I stepped across the room, past the white and gold-trimmed dresser, and pushed the lace curtains out of the way to shut the window. Hopefully, no one had been lurking; otherwise, I’d be forced to deal with people knocking at the door to complain about Jiayi’s singing.

Apparently, they claimed that she was not very good, but it’d never really bothered me.

The glass was covered in a light sweat, and the cold, outside air brushed across my face as I fought to close the window. It was stuck again.

Our campus was a mix of both old and new buildings, and our room happened to be located in one of the oldest residence halls still in use. Despite that, I hadn’t noticed a single ghost since arriving.

But, now that I knew what I did, was that strange, or not? Were the ghosts driven away? How many other people like me lived here?

I bit my lip, grunting under my breath, as the window finally slid closed.

“Why hello there.”

My heart slammed, and I turned to find Jiayi standing directly behind me.

She wore a fluffy purple towel that reached her knees, and her long, black hair was wrapped above her head in a messy, wet bun. She tilted her head, and her large, brown eyes watched me in that strange, calm way she had about her.

“This is a surprise,” she said. “I was not forewarned of your impending presence.”

“O-oh…” I’d pressed my hand to my chest. But, really, who wa s going to warn her? I couldn’t ask, however. Sometimes I found it difficult to talk to her in general—she was too perfect.

And maybe she knew it. Otherwise, how could she remain completely unperturbed while lounging around the room half-naked?

It really wasn’t fair how awesome she was.

Then her statement registered.

Did she not want me here? The realization caused a familiar pang to shoot through me. Why would she?

“Sorry.” I averted my eyes and shuffled toward my white dresser. “I’ll be gone in a minute.”

My hands shook as I grabbed a spare backpack and pulled open the top drawer.

What should I pack? Extra bras were a must. I might not have much to brag about in the chest area, but I certainly couldn’t get away with nothing. Someone would be sure to notice.

Plus, I should probably add an extra sweater, or two.

“Hey.” Jiayi was suddenly beside me, and she touched her perfectly manicured fingers to my wrist. “Is something bothering you? Maybe I can help.”

I stared, her words lingering in my thoughts, before a choking sensation welled in my chest.

This was the most we’d spoken in one single session. She’d always been withdrawn. Did this mean we could maybe be friends?

Then it was even more important that I impress her.

“I…” Damen had mentioned earlier that this was a supernatural school. It made sense, therefore, why Finn had chosen to come here. But I didn’t know the etiquette. Did people talk about this sort of thing? I should have paid more attention. “Are you…”

What if I was wrong? Was it okay to ask people about their abilities ?

I had no idea.

“Are you going to eat dinner soon?” I asked instead. God, I was so awkward.

She lifted her hand and my skin grew hot. I had no idea why I chose this topic, I’d panicked!

Why was I always thinking about food?

“I have to study tonight,” she answered in her even way, moving her attention to our kitchenette. “So I was going to make sandwiches and stay in. Why?”

“I was just curious.” I was sweltering in my discomfort. There was no ‘why’! This was the longest a girl my age had spoken to me without running away or issuing threats. And now here we stood, on the cusp of friendship, and I was failing. “The cute lunches that you make look really good.”

“They’re bento boxes,” Jiayi replied, tilting her head. “Do you want one?”

I really did. But I had plans.

“I can’t today.” I clenched my fists to my chest in an attempt to physically contain my rising excitement. She was much nicer than I’d thought. I almost wanted to cancel on the guys. “But maybe another time?”

“Of course,” Jiayi answered.

Now, what should we discuss? One topic had run its course, and there was nothing left to replace it.

I only had so many words!

“Okay!” My voice escaped in a shameless, happy squeak, and I turned from her and began to shove random stuff from my drawers into my backpack. What was this thrilling sensation rushing under my skin? I had to escape before I made a fool of myself.

“Bianca?” Jiayi’s unspoken question hung in the air.

Something was very wrong with me .

“That’s good!” I couldn’t look at her. I swung my too-heavy bag over my shoulder and trudged toward the exit. I’d packed too much, but I couldn’t stop to fix it now. “Thank you!”

My heart pounded as I closed the door behind me, and my pathetic farewell replayed in my head over and over.

Thank you. It wasn’t even a proper ‘Goodbye.’

How embarrassing.

But…

My face was on fire, and I covered my mouth as I leaned against the wall. It was a struggle to distinguish between my shame and excitement. We weren’t even friends yet.

So why was I smiling?