Page 23 of Obsessed with my Temptation

We were supposed to be studying. Or working on a project for a class at least. Why,whydid he have to follow me everywhere? Was it written on my face?

“It was just a coincidence, and this rivalry thing that people talk about isn’t even true, so I saw no reason to not go ahead with it,” I said, forcing a smile on my face.

They weren’t trying to be mean or anything. They didn’tknowthat I was trying desperately not to think about Travis, or the way his bluntness touched something inside me, or the way his praises had warmed my chest as he’d fucked my mouth.

Obviously they didn’t know that.

“You’re so brave, Scott. If I’d been paired up with him, I’d have turned the other way, he’s so intimidating! I heard he got in a lot of fights in high school, and with that deadly stare of his, I believe it,” Richard said with a chuckle, twirling a pen between his fingers and doing everything to avoid thinking about what we are actually supposed to be working on.

“He just has thisauraabout him, you know? Like he’s a dangerous wild animal,” Becca added, putting her chin on her hand. “Nothing likeyou, Scottie. You’re so nice and welcoming, your face makes everyone want to talk to you.”

I’d heard that too many times in my life to count.

But what would Becca say if she knew that I, the wholesome Scott Matthews, didn’t imagine the sweet, loving tangles in bed I was supposed to like in my free time, and instead remembered the way Travis had fucked my mouth in a dark closet?

She would be very surprised, that was for sure. She would look at me very differently.

Richard agreed and laughed—and I laughed lightly with them before we finally rerouted our attention to the project at hand.

I wondered for the millionth time this week why I couldn’t just be like everyone else. Why I couldn’t just be turned off by Travis’s dangerous aura, why I couldn’t look in the other direction, why it felt like the world disappeared when he was staring at me.

Especially when he had indeed known about all of my flaws, the things that ate me from the inside out. Travis had hit the nail on the head—I felt fake. And I had for a long while, but usually, I managed to ignore the uneasy feeling and focus on doing what I always did—be the popular charming guy everyone expected me to be. But this Prince persona grated—it made me feel like I was alone even when I was surrounded by people.

I had my two best friends, of course, who I adored and who I could be myself with, but still. Not to mention I hadn’t told them about this—about how I felt. And who would? It felt ridiculous and ungrateful.

When I was younger, I was always more severely chastised than other people when I misbehaved. One would have thought it would be the opposite, but when the good boy did a wrong, it was a shock. It wasn’t the way things were supposed to be. It was an alarm, an imperative need to put myself back in my perfect-guy box before things got out of hand.

I still remembered vividly the way one of my ex-teachers had looked at me a couple of summers back, right before I started college. I was caught in a compromising position with my girlfriend at the time, and the outrage on Mrs. Dawson’s face—it had shaken me to my core.

From those experiences onwards, I’d become extra careful to fulfill people’s expectations of me. I was terrified of seeing that look again, of disappointing people, of realizing that people didn’t really likeme,they liked the projection of the Prince, even when no one had called me that.

Did Richard and Becca like that too? Only the projection and not the real thing?

I didn’t want to know.

I wanted to keep things moving smoothly in my life.

Needless to say, all this inner turmoil didn’t disappear in one day, which was why by Thursday at lunchtime, my nerves felt tight enough to snap.

I was sitting at a table with Eliot and Antony at the cafeteria, digging in on some pasta carbonara, when a prickling sensation made me raise my eyes and find Travis entering the room.

Seeing him was always a jolt to the system, triggering an awareness of him that was almost supernatural. His brown hair was slicked back from a recent shower. He was talking to a guy I’d seen him with before several times, probably a boxer buddy by the looks of him. I couldn’t resist the urge to follow Travis with my gaze as he got his food.

Stop looking at him.

Suddenly, Travis’s gray eyes met mine, making his expression harden. The deadly stare was harsh enough to shatter bones, and almost as soon as he’d met my gaze, he looked away.

Like it was nothing.

What the fuck?

We hadn’t seen each other since the incident. We wouldn’t be selling cupcakes again until tomorrow morning—a necessary arrangement, since Travis had to train in the mornings more often than not, and his boxing was a priority.

Shouldn’t I be the one looking away? I was the one who had been on my knees. I was the one supposed to dismiss him and tell him it was not going to happen again.

But I was also the ‘straight’guy who had told him it wouldn’t happen in the first place and had done it anyway.

I wanted to groan.

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