Page 13 of Bound in Debt
I feel my face heat with a blush before Professor Moretti dismisses me, turning his back and walking toward his desk. But I can’t let that sort of insult go. I deserve at least some basic respect.
“Actually, a 2012 study suggested that there are benefits to engaging in self-talk.”
Professor Moretti stops mid-step, slowly turning back around to face me.
I continue, “It’s completely normal. And, while I was muttering—I’m sure you have no idea what I was saying—you shouldn’t be worried unless I’m hallucinating. Which I’m not. Talking to yourself can actually improve control over a task, focusing and enhancing problem-solving skills. I can assure you that I heard everything you said. Plus,” I raise his syllabus up in the air, “you were so generous to type it all out for us.”
He stands there, seemingly digesting my words, but I’ve learned he’s fast on his feet and has a pathological need to have the last word.
“Do I need to make an edit for next semester? Perhaps a note reminding students not to be entitled smartasses, Miss Waldorf? Or would you like to cite a study regarding the relationship between sarcasm and intelligence? Because it would seem you have heaps of the former and little of the latter.”
“My grades say otherwise.”
“But your poor choices don’t, do they?” He folds his hands behind his back. “If I need to stop my lecture again for another of these thrilling conversations with you, Miss Waldorf, I’m kicking you out of my class. Understood?”
I give a curt nod, deciding one clapback was enough for today.
Professor Moretti glances up as the grandfather clock in the corner chimes the hour. “Well, that’s the end of our time together. Make sure your instruments are tuned before you come to class Wednesday. And you should have a piece of chamber music prepared so that I can assess your skills.”
As everyone quickly stands and moves to get the hell out, I grab my backpack and case and prepare to follow the crowd. But I feel a tap on the back of my shoulder and swing my head around to see a blonde with hazel eyes that glimmer with a hint of mischief, like we’re sharing a secret.
I guess we are.
“Thanks, girl,” she whispers as if Professor Moretti has supersonic hearing. “Sorry you got in trouble.”
I shrug. There’s nothing either of us can do about it now. “It’s alright. Just keep it down next time.”
She bobs her head immediately. “Absolutely. No more sexy talk about the grumpy professor.” Her hand shoots out between us. “I’m Bailey. Can I buy you a coffee or something?”
“Yeah, actually…that sounds great. My next class isn’t for another hour.”
She beams at me. “Awesome. We can?—”
“Vee!” My body reflexively cringes at the sound of Liam’s voice. Why is he here? And right after I got my ass handed to me by his uncle?
The last thing I need is Liam creating a damn scene after class and cementing Professor Moretti’s belief that I’m some drama queen.
“Shit,” I mutter, pulling the strap of my backpack over my shoulder as I meet Bailey’s gaze. “Can we hurry up and go?”
She frowns but nods. “Yeah, yeah, sure.”
We begin to move toward the back exit when Liam’s hand wraps around my bicep and forces me to stop.
“Hey—” I jerk my arm away from his touch. I’m over this nonsense.
I don’t want to marry him.
I don’t have any desire to date him.
Liam is a douchebag with too much ego and not enough brains. The stupid ass invited me to a party and then made out with another chick. He had her purple lipstick smeared all over his face. I’m not sure how much tequila he had before then, and I don’t care. I’m done.
“Don’t touch me,” I growl back. “And don’t come to my classes looking for me.”
Liam looks like a sad puppy dog that got left out in the rain, but I have zero sympathy. He’s delusional if he thinks I’ll take his cheating ass back.
“Babe, I’m so sorry,” he soothes, raising his hands in supplication. “It was a stupid dare?—”
“She was on your lap for ten minutes, Liam,” I argue because, no joke, I literally timed them while I downed three drinks and tried to pretend it didn’t matter. “And, honestly, I’ve told you this before, I don’t want to get married. I’m too busy with school to even be in a relationship with you.”
