Page 58 of His Sinner

I brush past throngs of students and staff and beeline straight for her office.

I don’t bother knocking before flinging the door open. Briar barely reacts, like she anticipated my arrival.

“Leave the door open,” she instructs, monotone.

“That’s not necessary.”

Her electric blue gaze has already returned to the paperwork she’s filling out. “If you don’t want me to file a restraining order against you, it is. Trust me, the administration cares way more about their professors than a single student. You’ll be banned from campus tomorrow.”

I perch on her desk. “Will you still be hosting the writing retreat at Nicholson Manor?”

Briar’s pen continues scrawling across the page. “Yes, I’ll need to be there a day early to set up for the writing retreat. Will that be a problem?”

“Not at all.” I grab her chin, forcing her fiery gaze on mine because I’m sick of her refusing to look at me. Her jaw ticks. “No matter how much you push me away, no matter how long you refuse to look me in the eye, I’ll still do whatever I need to do to provide for you. To take care of you, to prove my loyalty and love for you.”

She jerks out of my grasp, returning her attention to her desk. “Get out, Saint.”

If she’s at Nicholson Manor a day before her students, I can utilize that time to remind her of what our writing retreat was like over winter break. How happy she was with me, how much she trusted me, what it felt like to fall in love with me.

What would your biggest fan want for your next chapter? Perhaps this is her way of telling me what she wants me to write in our story next.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

BRIAR

I manage to kick Mack out of the house while I finish prepping for the writing retreat. She’s getting Cookie settled with Ginger at her apartment where she’ll watch them while I’m gone for the week.

When there’s a knock on the door, my stupid heart flutters with the hope that it’s Saint on the other side.

But when I swing the door open, it’s not Saint or Mack. “Trevor? What are you doing here?”

He grins and points past me. “Can I come in?”

“Uh, sure. But I can’t talk long. I’m leaving for the retreat soon.”

“No problem.” He slides his hands in his back pockets, hovering in the middle of the room. “So I was thinking when you get back, I could take you out.”

Oh, fuck. Where the hell is this coming from? Trevor and I have always been just friends. He’s never shown any interest in me before.

Saint’s words echo in my mind. He’s biding his time. He’s waiting until he’s sure you’ll give him what he wants.

Goddamnit. Why do men always have to ruin a perfectly good friendship by catching feelings? Or, at the very least, wanting to bang any woman who is remotely pleasant to them.

“Oh. Um...that’s nice of you to ask. It really is.” God, I’m terrible at this. “But I’m not ready to date again. Honestly, I may never be.”

At this point, I’d rather stab out my own eyeballs with a fork than suffer through a date with anyone.

Trevor’s hands leave his pockets as he folds his arms, an unexpected scowl shifting his features. “Don’t tell me you’re still in love with that asshole.”

Silence falls between us while I try to come up with a response that’s anything other than telling him to fuck off. “I don’t know if you’ve realized this, Trevor, but I’ve been through a lot of shit recently. I’m not interested in dating anyone.”

He shakes his head, brushing past me on his way to the door. “You women love to complain about asshole guys, but you always pick them over the nice guys. You could date a guy like me who would actually treat you right, but instead, you’re hung up on a scumbag who stalked you. I guess I should try being more like him, huh? Maybe if I start treating women like shit, you’ll all start liking me better.”

I’m finally meeting the real Trevor. The one Saint told me about. The man who manipulates and takes advantage of women. Who pretends to be your friend until he turns on you when you reject him, and that’s when he shows his true colors.

“Were you the one in that video?”

His eyes narrow on me, hand frozen on the knob. “How would it have been me? You said it was a video of him fucking someone.”