Page 154 of Devious Knight

I rush to my apartment when I get back on campus.

It’s night now. Kade said he’d see me before nine. He had football practice until late.

I’m hoping to get back early enough to fix myself up. I’m wearing yoga pants and a baggy sweater, what I call my house clothes.

It was good hanging out with everyone today. It was even better to confirm my suspicions about Parker. Having confirmation means I don’t have to question myself. It also leans into my previous beliefs about him wanting my mother killed.

On the downside, now that I’ve seen what kind of man he is, I’ve been thinking about his reasons for wanting her dead again.

Mom was weird before she died. My guess is she saw him doing something and he had her killed to keep his secrets.

When I reach my apartment, I notice the door is ajar. I didn’t leave it that way, but the sight doesn’t worry me because I have a feeling I know who’s inside.

I’ve gotten to know Kade so well I can feel his presence before I see him.

I walk in, close the door, and head down the corridor, where the presence grows stronger. By the time I reach the living room and find Kade, I feel like he could have been walking next to me the whole time.

He’s standing by my mantle looking at the paintings I did of my mother. His hair is ruffled and a five-o’clock shadow is settled on his face

When he lifts his head and gives me that sexy smile, I want to run toward him and kiss him, but I stop myself. Instead, I walk, my heart triple-beating the closer I get.

“Lolita.”

“Hi. Did the custodian let you in?”

“I picked the lock.”

I can’t resist the smile that spreads across my face. “You do realize that's illegal, right?”

“Not in my books.”

“Of course not. And you were searching through my stuff?” My notepads near the paintings have been shuffled around.

“Because I noticed your schedule looks like something from hell.”

“Thanks to your godfather.” We haven’t spoken about that yet.

“He gave you extra work?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like a fuck of a lot.”

He can say that again. “It’s stuff he wants me to do for my project if I hope to go to Cambridge.”

He walks closer and stops a kissable distance away. “Stuff that’s going to take you away from me.”

“Not this again. You know why I want to transfer to Cambridge.”

“Yes, but I don’t have to like it. I suppose this isn’t like the Dark Ages. I can visit you whenever I want.”

That gives me pause. “You’d go to England to see me?”

“Of course, I would.”

“You’re joking.”

“Am I?” He reaches forward and tugs on the waistband of my pants. “Where’s your old man?”

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