Page 36 of Unapologetic Obsession

The longer I went without speaking, the more curious everyone appeared. Some leaned forward, some had their eyebrows raised, while others stood with their arms crossed, studying me to see what I would do next.

My heart started hammering loudly at the unprecedented attention, and my gaze inadvertently landed on Professor Maxwell. I couldn’t deal with another bout of his anger right now. Not while the blood in my veins ran cold from being the center of attention.

I needed to get the hell out of here.

Before he could blast me for showing up unannounced, I lifted the box in my hands. His brow furrowed when I carefully placed it on the steel counter.

“Erm—” Miles started, but I didn’t wait for him to speak, either.

Spinning on my heel, I ran out of the lab.I sprinted down the hallway and took the first left. I could barely see in the dark hallway and shoved past a set of double doors to end up in another deserted corridor. I came to a screeching halt, trying to catch my breath now that I had distanced myself from the mortifying situation.

With my back against the nearest wall, I pressed a hand over my mouth. “Kill me,” I groaned loudly and closed my eyes. “Kill me now.”

“Did you bake that cake for me?”

My entire body froze because I recognized the deep voice.

No.

The universe couldn’t be so cruel as to have Professor Maxwell follow me after I had made a fool of myself in front of all those people. I wanted to run from the cringeworthy moment, not relive it.

I kept my eyes closed to block out reality and did the only rational thing possible—I pressed two fingers against my temples, telepathically convincing him that I was invisible.When I didn’t hear anything, I slowly pried one eye open.

To my great disappointment, I hadn’t harnessed the gift of mind control. Professor Maxwell stood at the end of the hallway. He had shed his white lab coat and was in a pair of jeans and a plain gray T-shirt. The casual clothes made him look more like a student rather than a teacher.

His gaze dropped to take in my outfit as well. In my eagerness to bring him the cake, I had forgotten to change out ofmy semi-provocative clothes. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn he glanced at my chest twice before closing in.It was covered, but the tight dress made it seem like my rack was being offered up on a plate.

Mortified, I crossed my arms over my breasts, which only pushed them up in the formfitting outfit. I was relieved when he stopped an arm’s length away. His self-awareness was unexpectedly accurate. I generally had to step away before people acknowledged my invisible bubble.

“Did you bake that cake for me?” he asked again.

Realizing that I never gave him an answer, I opened my mouth. Nothing came out, but at least he didn’t rush me like others did when I couldn’t speak within their expected time frame.His patience helped me to manage a curt nod.

“Why?”

I couldn’t reveal the truth—I felt sorry for his terrible childhood. Sophie was crystal clear that Professor Maxwell didn’t react well to sympathy. But if I didn’t come up with a good reason, he would believe his staff’s gossip—I was here with nefarious intentions. Why else would someone wear a sexy dress and deliver baked goods late at night?

I tried but failed to maintain eye contact. “To apologize for breaking into your lab,” I responded quietly, and braced myself, fully expecting his wrath at my audacity.

“You do realize the irony, right?” He sounded amused. “You’re apologizing for breaking into my lab by doing the same thing a second time.”

I twiddled my thumbs and waited for my chance to escape.

“It’s a big cake,” he added after neither of us had spoken in a while. “I can’t finish it alone.”

“Huh?”My head jerked up at the hint of an invitation. He didn’t sound angry at all.If anything, he was trying his damnedest to downplay his scary demeanor.

I stared at him, encouraged by the lightheartedness in his tone. Up close, he looked different than he had yesterday. The five-o’clock shadow had turned into a defined stubble.

“Have a slice of cake with me,” he said with a smile, or it was as close to a smile as Professor Maxwell could muster. It was more of a smirk.

I gaped at him. He wanted to eat cake with me.

Why was he entertaining my presumptuous gesture?

I suspected it had something to do with my scars. Had I attempted this before he saw them, he would have ruthlessly shut me down. But ever since he had laid eyes on them, something had shifted between us; I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was. If I believed Professor Maxwell was capable of empathy, I would think he felt sorry for me. However, I doubt he felt compassion for me.

He held out a hand, motioning for me to walk.