Page 18 of Too Hostile

I chuckle, but yeah, I like research. When I first realized I had an attraction to a guy at school, I went right on the internet and read. And read some more. Not because I thought it was wrong, but I guess because it made it seem even more normal to know that hell, there’s even an actual scale out there for sexuality.

Pretty damn cool, if you ask me.

“Speaking of that scale...” I start, and she looks at me, raising an eyebrow as she waits for the question. “You and Shana?”

She grins at that but doesn’t seem surprised. “Nope. We’re just friends, for real. I think I may be the only mostly straight one out of the bunch. But if I fall for a girl, I won’t fight it, that’s for damn sure.”

I grin. “Mostly?”

She shrugs. “Like I said, I won’t fight it. If my soulmate happens to be a woman, then that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“You’re pretty fucking cool, Bree.”

She laughs. “So are you. Please remember that.”

I nod slowly, knowing what she’s trying to tell me.

That no matter what I went through before, I’m really okay now.

And I’m trying everything I can to make sure I believe that.

RONAN

It’s been a week since Fletcher ran out of the coffee shop, and I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s driving me insane.

I don’t understand what the hell happened, and I’m an overthinker. That’s all. I just like to know the answer to a question, and he didn’t answer it for me. That’s why I can’t stop thinking about it.

That’s the lie I continue to tell myself as I walk into the campus library. It’s a nice evening, and I was out for a walk, drawn to the beautiful stone building. I figured why not go in and check things out.

And I see Fletcher right away.

It’s almost empty in here, and he’s massive, so of course it’s not hard to spot him. But how the hell is he here? Tonight, of all nights, when I decide to walk in here. It makes no sense, and my legs take me straight to him.

Angry for absolutely no reason, I stop only a foot away from where he’s reading quietly in a chair by the window. “Professor.”

“No,” I say instantly. “Don’t call me that.”

He quirks one brow at me, clearly amused, and damn it, that annoys me too. “What should I call you?”

Damn him. He’s having way too much fun with this, and he’s back to being the annoying ass who used to come into my class, all late and unbothered. “Just...” I’m flustered. Goddammit, I’m flustered. I hate that. “What are you doing here?”

He looks around the practically deserted room and then lifts the book he’s reading up. It looks like a biography of some sort maybe. Definitely not a textbook. “Reading,” he supplies the obvious answer.

“No.” I say again, and that word just seems to be stuck in my head. “You don’t just come to the library during the summer to read. No.”

He stands up slowly, creeping into my space, but I don’t back up. I don’t relent, even though I know I should. “Libraries are my favorite place.”

“Bullshit,” I whisper-hiss.

Instead of being amused, he looks slightly irritated now. That’s new. “Are you saying I’m lying? What the hell would I get out of lying?”

I scoff loudly at that and fold my arms over my chest, hating how agitated I feel. “Are you kidding? How about to rile me up? Which seems to be your number-one goal in life.” I say far too loudly, and I finally realize just how close we’re standing and drop my arms to my sides, taking one step back. “You know what? Nope. I’m not doing this. It doesn’t matter.”

I notice him visibly flinch at that, but I can’t dwell on it.

“Have a good night, Mr. Moore.” I turn and rush out of the library, hating that whole scene. What if anyone saw that? What would they think? Me practically yelling at a student in the library for reading.

I really need to get a grip. I get all the way to the edge of the parking lot and notice he’s caught up to me. “What’s your deal with me? Why the hell do you hate me so much?”

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