Page 60 of Hate To Love You

After three presentations, I’m about to fall asleep in my seat. This shit is reminding me why I skipped out on so many classes. I’m impatient, and impulsive. I cannot stand staying still.

“Gwen and Ryker, let’s see what you got,” Professor Whitely says in a giddy tone. I roll my eyes. No one person is that happy, it’s not possible.

Gwen slowly rises from her seat, bringing her laptop with her and walking down to Professor Whitely’s desk, without looking back at me, I notice.

When I meet her down there, she doesn’t even look at me. My eyes narrow in confusion at her coldness. She was fine when she left this morning. Did something happen between then and now? Does she regret what we did?

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I whisper as Gwen pulls up the slideshow.

Keeping her eyes locked on the screen, she says, “Nothing.”

Okay…

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After I’ve presented my half, Gwen finishes hers, shutting the laptop as Professor Whitely and the few students in the room clap. She gives a shy smile before grabbing her things, saying goodbye to Damian, and rushing out of the room, leaving me standing there, utterly confused.

What the fuck just happened?

I don’t even wait for Professor Whitely’s feedback. I grab my bag and chase after Gwen to make sure she’s alright.

She’s sitting on a bench just down the hall from the classroom, looking flushed and out of breath. What the hell is going on with her?

I take a step closer to where she sits, making her look up, her crystal blue eyes meeting mine. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

Taking a seat next to her, she doesn’t flinch or move away. She simply stays there, her hands wringing in her lap as she stares down at the ground.

I clear my throat. “What was that about?” I ask softly. Gwen looks at me, and I expect to see tears or fear in her eyes, but that’s not what I see.

“You went after Ashton Davis after I ask you not to, didn’t you,” she accuses. My blood turns to ice. How the fuck did she find out? I know she saw my hand the other day, but I didn’t answer when she’d asked about Ashton.

As if reading my mind, she continues.

“He came to see me. He told me what you did,” I see red. My entire body freezes and I have the sudden urge to punch a fucking wall. My jaw tenses.

“What do you mean he came to see you? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Just before class. He stopped me outside of the lecture hall. Told me you’re the one that fucked up his face,” she looks at me as if she’s challenging me to deny it. I don’t.

“He told me to tell you to watch my back,” she says softly. “He threatened me.”

I’m going to fucking kill the bastard. I’m going to rip his skin off of his pathetic body and burn him alive. He’s not going to get away with threatening Gwen. I’m not going to let him think he can fuck with either of us.

But first, I need to make sure Gwen hasn’t gone back to hating my guts, because to be honest, I like it a lot more when she doesn’t.

“Gwen, look. I’m not going to apologize for beating the guy’s ass. He had it coming. But I-” she cuts me off with a heart stopping kiss, kissing me rough and hard, needy. The roughness of the kiss contrasts with her soft, plump lips as they move against mine. Her tongue finds mine and our breaths tangle together.

I have no fucking clue what’s going on right now. Is she mad at me? Is she turned on?

Gwen pulls away, her eyes moving from my face, down to my crotch. My dick swells in my pants, picturing the things we did just last night.

She reaches down and grabs my hand, pulling me toward an empty room and locking the door behind us.

I stand in the middle of the room, crossing my arms over my chest while Gwen walks slowly toward me, her expression unreadable.

“Why would you go after Ashton?” she asks, as if it isn’t obvious.

“The guy’s a major prick, Gwen,” I shrug. Gwen takes a step closer until we’re about three inches away from one another. The lights are off, but I can still see a hint of her lips as she speaks.

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