Page 18 of The Substitute (New York Gods #4)

EIGHTEEN

TOBI

Ambrose and I have settled into a truce, one that involves cuddling sometimes, and I don’t want to admit I like it. A lot.

“Eat,” Ambrose demands, as some kind of breakfast sandwich is shoved in my face.

The strong scent of egg and sausage assaults my nose, and I jerk back from it. “No thanks.”

We’ve been spending a lot more time together, but he’s taken on a kind of caretaking role, and while I like it, he doesn’t have any fucking chill.

“You have to eat. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

I’m pretty sure I can hear him grinding his teeth.

“Look, I appreciate you seem to care, but that smells like I’m going to puke.” I point to the offending sandwich as my stomach churns and saliva pools in my mouth.

“What?” He looks at the food, clearly confused. “It’s egg, sausage, cheese, and chorizo.”

“I’m not a big fan of eggs unless they are mixed with flour, butter, and sugar.” I turn back to my backpack and finish shoving my stuff inside. “Please don’t leave that in here, or I will have to sleep in the living room.”

“So…cake?”

“Or cookies, brownies, pastries. Do donuts have egg? I don’t know, but they’re also delicious.” I swing my backpack over my shoulder and stand.

“You and your fucking brother.” He looks at the ceiling. “Maybe you two are a little alike.”

I make a face. “No, his idea of good food comes out of a package. I like real baked things.”

“Fair, but the sweet tooth is still there.”

I shrug and put my backpack on my shoulder.

“Are you going to class?” There’s a smile on his face that’s adorable, and I kind of hate him for it. He doesn’t get to be cute, sexy as hell, and pretend to care. My heart can’t take it.

“We are in college, right? Someone is paying a lot of money for my ass to be here.” Careful not to touch his naked chest, I shimmy past him, but he grabs my arm and hauls me against him, quickly taking my mouth in a sweet but deep kiss.

The guy is making my head spin, and I have to blink a few times to make the room stop spinning before I can leave the room.

“I’m proud of you!” Ambrose yells from the door of our dorm. “You should be proud of you, too!”

“I’ve been going.” Not as much as I should be, but it’s not like I’m failing out.

“And I’m proud of you every class you do.” He smirks, and it’s sexy, and I hate it a little.

I flip him off as I get into the elevator while the people around me snicker. I swear to fuck I’m going to suffocate him.

I make it through three classes before my brain is mush.

“Do you have another class?” Angie, a cute girl from my class, walks with me down the hall.

“I’m done for the day, thank fuck.” My stomach grumbles loudly, but nothing sounds good. Maybe I should have eaten breakfast…

“Lunch time then?” She smiles at me, turning those big black rimmed glasses and purple cat ears toward me. The girl is adorably innocent, and there’s something about her that makes me want to smile even on the days I don’t want to smile at all.

“I need to go to the library, but I’ll probably still be there when you’re done if you want to come find me.”

“Your stomach just shouted.” She arches a brow and pops a hip. “Starving yourself isn’t going to help you study.”

What is it with everyone telling me to eat?

“I have some snacks in my bag.” Lie.

She looks at me like she doesn’t believe me, but she lets it go. I head to the library, and she turns toward the dining hall. It’s not too busy in here, so I get a good seat in the back where it’s a little darker. Overhead lights are the bane of my existence.

I get my stuff spread out when my phone buzzes.

Savage: What are you up to?

I can’t help the smile that tugs on my lips.

Tobi: Classes and studying? What else is there?

Savage: Debauchery?

Tobi: Do I look like the debauchery type?

Savage: I don’t know, send me a picture.

Tobi: Hilarious

Savage: It wasn’t a joke. Send me a selfie I want to see you.

Tobi: Why?

Savage: I can’t miss your face?

Is this flirting? I’m not sure I can tell.

Tobi: You can but you did see me a few days ago.

Savage: It’s not enough and I am busy this weekend so I want to see you.

Tobi: You are?

I don’t want him to know how disappointed I am, but it’s hard not to be. He’s been busy a lot recently, and it’s not that he doesn’t message me and check in—he’s very attentive. But I got kinda used to the cuddling and stuff. I miss it.

Savage: I am. I’m sorry. These interviews are killing me.

Tobi: When do I get to see you?

I hate asking. I hate feeling like I have to.

Savage: can I take you out Monday?

Tobi: Sure.

Savage: Where’s my picture.

Tobi: I don’t have any selfies saved.

Savage: Don’t over think it, just snap a pic and send it.

Tobi: You send a pic then if it’s so easy

A few seconds later, a picture comes through of Savage in a hoodie with one eyebrow raised and an intimate smile. I love that the tattoos on his neck are just visible, too.

Fuck.

He has no right to look that good. He’s not even here, and that look is setting my blood on fire.

I look like a soggy garbage bag. How the hell am I supposed to send one now? I’m sure my face is red and splotchy, my hair is a mess, and everything I’m wearing is baggy and old and comfortable. Not exactly enticing.

Do I want to be enticing? Yes? No? Maybe? Ugh. My brain is too fried for this much psychoanalyzing.

Savage: See how easy it is?

Tobi: Sure when you look like that

Savage: Are you saying I’m pretty?

I snort at the word choice. There are a lot of words I could use to describe him, but pretty isn’t one of them. It’s too…soft?

Tobi: Sure, we’ll go with that

Savage: No, tell me what you were going to say.

The heat in my cheeks shoots down my neck even though he can’t see me. It’s stupid.

Tobi: I need to study.

Savage: Am I distracting you, baby girl?

The muscles deep in my stomach flutter, and my skin tingles. Fucking Christ. Why do I like the nickname? I’m so pathetic. He’s probably not even flirting—maybe he’s like this with everyone? That would make more sense.

I flip my phone over and find the chapter I need to study. After an hour, my stomach is starting to cramp, making it hard to concentrate on anything other than food. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, but I jolt when there’s a bang near me.

Popping my eyes open, I look up to find Savage grinning down at me.

“This seat taken?” He smirks.

My heart is in my throat, and I’m breathing like I outran a lion. “Clearly not.”

“Sassy.” He takes the chair next to me and pulls mine closer to his.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you before I—before Monday.” He grins and scoots closer.

There is so much I want to say, but it’s too vulnerable, so I force myself to ignore him when all I want to do is sit in his damn lap. I purposefully keep my eyes on the textbook. Goosebumps break out over my skin when his breath fans over my neck.

“I came all the way over here to help you study. Ignoring me is rude.”

Spinning my head to look at him, I’m startled to find us nose to nose. Christ. I swallow and am acutely aware of the bobbing of my Adam’s apple.

“I didn’t ask you to.” My tone isn’t as strong as I had hoped.

“You didn’t have to. That’s the point.” Savage flicks the tip of my nose with his in a playful move. It’s…cute and somehow intimate. I’m not sure how to respond to it or what it means.

The knot in my throat is hard to swallow around. When I lean back, he’s watching. It makes me nervous and hot. His attention is a fire along my skin, deadly, but the warmth seeps into my bones that I’ve been missing.

It’s dangerous.

I open my mouth to tell him to go, but my stomach makes a horrifyingly loud groan instead.

“You get hangry—good to know.” The large man sits back in his chair, putting his arm along the back of mine. “Where do you want to go eat?”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t want to eat?”

“I need to study.”

A big, warm hand finds my leg under the table, and once again, his breath drags over my neck. “Not taking care of yourself will lead to burnout so fast your head will spin. So, I’m going to feed you.”

“I don’t need you to feed me. I can feed myself,” I snap, embarrassed by how much I like him taking control instead of asking me a hundred questions. His grip on my thigh tightens in a delicious threat that both turns me on and makes me nervous. I suck in a breath and try not to react.

“Pack up your stuff. You’re going to take a break before your head explodes.”

My shoulders droop in a sigh of relief that I don’t have to make a choice, though a part of me wants to argue just because. I shouldn’t want to take orders, right? No self-respecting adult wants to be bossed around.

I don’t say anything, just shove my stuff in my bag and follow him out of the library. I don’t have the brain space to argue with myself, much less with another person.

With my stomach full, I want to sleep. This was a mistake. I should have waited until I was done studying to eat. Knowing my bed is right on the other side of the wall isn’t helping either.

Something Savage said earlier keeps circling my head, though.

You didn’t have to. That’s the point.

“What is the point?”

He looks up from his laptop. “What?”

“Earlier you said, I didn’t have to ask, and that’s the point.” I drop my eyes to my lap. “What’s the point?”

“Look at me.”

I do before I’ve even thought about it, and I find him dragging his teeth over his lip. A lip I desperately want to feel pressed to my own.

“Does it bother you that I showed up without you asking?”

I start to shake my head but stop to think about it.

Does it bother me? No. It makes me feel like he cares which makes me question, what he really wants.

Even though he said it’s not just to piss off Ambrose, I can’t help but think that’s the real motivation, which means it’s not really about me, and he doesn’t really care.

That means it’s an act which does bother me…

“I don’t think so,” I say instead of unloading all that bullshit.

“Explain.” He sits back and gives me his full attention.

I should have just kept my mouth shut. Fuck. How do I say anything without sounding pathetic and like I’m overthinking everything?

I shove my hands in my hoodie pocket and look over his shoulder instead of at him. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“You’re really annoying,” I bite out, and he grins.

“Yeah, I can be, but stop changing the subject.”

“People typically change subjects when they are no longer interested in the current one.”

“Or they’re embarrassed to admit something about the current subject, so they’re hoping for a distraction that they aren’t going to get.”

I huff out a breath instead of throwing my textbook at him. “Just because you’re hot doesn't mean you get to be an ass.”

He laughs and drops his head back for a second. “It does actually. Being hot means I get away with a lot more asshole behavior.” The fucker winks at me. “But it’s good to know you think I’m hot.”

“I didn’t actually say that.” My face is on fire. I’m going to spontaneously combust.

“You did.”

“Was this new information? Have you never seen a mirror before?”

“And now we’re bratty.” He leans forward, resting his forearms on the coffee table between us. “I’m learning all kinds of things today.”

“I’m not a brat,” I grumble.

“Oh, you absolutely are, but it’s not a bad thing. I happen to enjoy brats.”

“I’m not a child.”

“I didn’t say you were a child, and the situation in my pants would be extremely concerning if I were to find out you were.”

What did he just say? The situation in his pants? Is he turned on right now? Why? What the hell is happening?

My eyes flick down toward his groin despite knowing the table is blocking my view.

“You want to see what you do to me?”

I nod quickly, but when he doesn’t say anything, I look up to find him waiting for something.

“Yes, I want to see.” The words are breathy, but I don’t care.

He smiles at me, and it makes butterflies flutter in my stomach.

“Come here.”

The command in his voice and the dominance in his body language have my full attention. I’m around the table next to him in a heartbeat, but he reaches for me, settling me to straddle his lap.

Every breath I take is him. My heart is beating a rhythm to his name, and it’s taking all my pitiful self-restraint not to rub my entire body against him like a damn cat. Sliding my hands into the hair at the back of his neck, I roll my hips, and he groans.

“Again.” He grips my hips, and I put more effort into the movement, circling and rolling over him. Fuck, it feels amazing to know I’m turning him on, that he wants me as much as I want him. I can’t believe I’m doing this in public, but honestly I’d seen so much worse in the cafeteria.

“Now,” he begins, and I know this was a trap so I can’t get away from his stupid questions. “Does it bother you that I showed up when you didn’t ask me to?”

“No,” I groan, just wanting to get this over with.

“And now for the truth.”

“That is the truth!”

“Nope. There’s more to it. It’ll be a lot easier for both of us if you just tell me.”

“Ugh!” I drop my head back on my shoulders. “I like that you showed up.”

“But?” he prompts.

“I don’t know how to accept it.”

“Do I need to remind you I don’t do anything I don’t want to do?”

My shoulders droop, and I drop my head toward my lap. “No.”

“Sounds like I do.” He lifts my chin with his fingers.

“That’s not it.” I sigh and try to find the words. “I guess it’s the motivation behind it that I struggle with.”

“Wanting to see you, spend time with you, isn’t a good enough motivation?”

“Uh, no, not really.”

“Your self-esteem sucks.”

I huff out a laugh, but it’s not really funny. “I know.”

“You are worth the effort. I enjoy being around you, or I wouldn’t be here. Do you understand that?”

I shake my head, not because I want him to compliment me or something, but because I really don’t.

“I want to spend time with you. I like you. I like getting to know you and I’m going to keep doing it.”

“It’s not about pissing off your brother?” I ask careful to avoid his eyes.

He grabs my chin making it so I have to look at him. “No. It’s only about you and wanting to be here with you.”