Page 20 of Ruined Wolfsbane

I’m surprised to see many aren’t about math. Most are medical books.

“I’m here for the alternative participation assignment.” I state the obvious, because what else would I do? Say something moderately intelligent around him?

“I know. Take a seat.” He doesn’t look up as I approach. I sit down in the chair closest to the door and take him in. He’s wearing a deep green button-down that makes his eyes look even more striking. Unlike in class this morning, his hair is in disarray. It makes him look younger and less like an intimidating professor.

I try not to fidget, but it’s impossible to stop my leg from bouncing. Hopefully he can’t see the nervous movement.

After a few moments of typing, he turns toward me. Xander slides a stapled sheet my way. I reach for it, and my hand brushes his. Electricity crackles between our hands, surprising me. My eyes jerk up to his before I hastily slide my hand back, wondering what the heck that was.

“To make up participation points, you’ll just need to solve extra problems. During your hour here each week, you can work on them and ask me about any concepts you’re struggling with. Any questions before you start?”

I shake my head and pull up my legs so my knees rest against his desk. I can use my legs as a writing surface, which is comfier than leaning over his desk. Xander makes a strangled sound at my movement. I look at him with my brows raised. He shoves his fingers through his hair before answering, his voice rough, “Your skirt.”

“Huh?” I look down to where he’s staring. My skirt’s fallen down, and he can see up it if he leans forward. “Oh, that. Professor Malachi ordered me a longer skirt, so I’m wearing shorts under. Apparently, he’s able to add it to my tuition bill.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” Xander asks, his tone skeptical. I nod, unsure what he’s getting at. After staring at me for a long moment with a muscle ticking in his jaw, he turns back to his computer.

I work on the problems for a few minutes before noticing his earbud. “Whatcha listening to?” He stares at me, not answering for a few beats. I figure he’s going to ignore me when he hands me the other earbud from his desk. I hurry to put it in my ear before he changes his mind. When I do, I hear a familiar song. “‘War’ by Chance Peña? Nice.”

Xander raises an eyebrow at me, surprised I recognized the song. I look down to hide my smile. I like surprising and, dare I say, impressing him. It makes my chest bubble with a strange warmth.

The rest of the hour passes easily. We listen to his indie and alternative music, while I work on the problems. I occasionally ask him a question about concepts I don’t get. He answers each inquiry patiently.

I’m almost disappointed when the hour ends. I’ve enjoyed Xander’s quiet companionship. He has pretty good taste in music, too. Spending so much time with Rory, Ronan, and even the Grimm brothers this past week has made me realize how empty my life is. Especially with Ava moved out.

There’s no one waiting at home for me. No one who cares how my day was. No one to sit quietly with. No one to laugh or share meals with. Just an empty house with a monster lurking in the shadows.

On that depressing note, I pack up my stuff. I don’t have an excuse to linger here any longer. “Thanks for working with me, Professor.” I look up as I speak. He’s staring at me intently, like I’m a puzzle he can’t quite solve.

“Happy to help, Miss Wylder.” I’m slightly disappointed when he calls me by my last name, which is ridiculous. He’s a professor, not my friend.

Shaking my head at myself, I leave his office. I resist the urge to look back for one last glimpse of Xander.

CHAPTER 10

BRIAR

Wednesday’s classes fly by. Before I know it, it’s time to work with Sebastian Grimm for Western Civ participation. Malachi’s held up by another student, so I wander to the third floor by myself.

I pause for a moment at the top of the stairs to take time to compose myself.

Spending every afternoon with the Grimm brothers isn’t helping my interest in them. Instead, I find myself thinking about them all the time, especially as I get to know them better during our one-on-one work.

I need to get a handle on my ridiculous infatuation with them. They’re professors and I’m a student. Nothing will ever happen between us. I’m also not deluded enough to think they have the same lowkey obsession with me as I do them.

Shaking my head at my preoccupied thoughts, I head toward Malachi’s and Xander’s office. Sebastian’s office is 310, which should be right next to Xander’s. Both Malachi’s and Xander’s offices are dark. Sebastian’s office has the light on, and the door cracked. As I get closer, I can hear music playing.

I check my phone to make sure I’m here at the right time before knocking. I hear a muffled, “Shit.” The music abruptly turns off, but not before I hear the singer talking about being baptized between a woman’s thighs until it hurts.

Fucking hell. I do not need the image of Sebastian Grimm between my thighs, strong hips wedged against my core. I don’t need to be thinking about the feel of his weight pressing me down or what exactly he’s doing to find salvation between my legs.

“Come in!” Sebastian yells from inside his office. My cheeks are flaming with the X-rated thoughts of him between my thighs. I will the blood to leave my face before I push his well-worn wooden door open.

His office smells like him, a mix of citrus and spice. I don’t notice it as much during class, but in his space, it’s everywhere. The three Grimm brothers all smell different. Yet, they all smell like coming home.

Sebastian’s office is a similar size and layout to Xander’s. Instead of black chairs, Sebastian has bright green armchairs facing his large oak desk. He also has two sizable windows letting in enough sunlight he doesn’t need lamps. The shelves that line his office aren’t filled with books. Instead, they’re covered in computers and parts. Tangles of wires, collections of circuit boards, and old computers dominate his office shelves.

While I’m gawking at the miscellaneous computers and parts, Sebastian snags my attention. “Sorry about the music. I lost track of time jamming out,” he says sheepishly. His mouth is tipped up on one side in an apologetic smile.

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