Professor Serrano clears his throat at the front of the room before Levi can say anything, commanding my attention as my eyes lift to look at him. Except he’s not looking at me. He’s staring at Levi, who’s still leaning on my shoulder. His eyes are so dark, it sends shivers down my spine, and I sit up straighter in my seat to nonchalantly shrug Levi off.
It’s a look that reminds me Luca may be a professor here at Lunar Crest, but he is still getting attacked in alleyways. He had done something to warrant that response from the big, scary guy, which means he’s quite possibly dangerous.
Why does that excite me?
Chapter Six
LUCA
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 6TH, 2023
I’ve officially had enough of the curly-headed fucker who sits next to Finley every other day, moping every time the blonde in the front even speaks. I hear their conversations—the whispers when they think they’re talking too quietly for anyone to hear. The dude pouts and sulks, takes his frustrations out on her, and she just lets him.
He’s already on my shit list for letting her roam around drunk the other night. This only makes it worse.
There’s no fiery attitude, no smart-ass responses. Finley sits there and listens to his constant whining without even a hint of irritation in her expression. I want to kick him out of the class just for the hell of it, just to keep him away from her.
Despite snapping at him at the beginning of the week, Levi still grumbles and groans and whines and whines andwhines. It’s an incessant sound that makes me want to smash his face into the desk as hard as I possibly can to get him to shut up.
It’s Friday morning, the end of another long, relentless week, and the cut-off day for the forms to be turned in for those planning to take the trip to England.
And as much as I try not to, I hope Finley will set a form down on my desk when she waltzes into the classroom. Seven days of being around her. Sleeping in the same hotel, just a few doors away from her. Touring Britain with the striking, green-eyed girl whom I can’t seem to rip my thoughts away from. She's imprinted there like a tattoo, permanent and ingrained. Every time I close my eyes, I picture her long, raven-colored hair and porcelain skin, how one would look wrapped around my fist while the other reddened from my touch.
Fuck.
So my determination to avoid these feelings has been failing. Sue me.
It was evident enough in the note I’d left on her form.
It wasn’t only out of selfishness. Being in another country also ensures her safety. She witnessed something she wasn’t supposed to when she found me that night, and I didn’t make matters any better when I shattered that glass over Rosco’s bald ass head. I was already in hot water, and she dived in head-first right behind me.
Dean Maddon had approved the trip as long as at least six students signed up to attend. There are currently five forms on my desk, and everyone is present in the classroom—all except one. My head lifts as the door opens, and my eyes fall on Finley as she walks inside nearly two minutes before class starts. Soft bags underneath her eyes reflect a long night she must’ve had, immediately piquing my interest.
It’s none of your business.
Disappointment floods me in suffocating tidal waves as I look down at her empty hands, slightly discouraged that she isn’t holding a form. Even so, surprising me as usual, sheapproaches my desk as her hand digs through her bag slung over her shoulder. Relief replaces the dismay as she whisks out the crumpled form, placing it on top of the stack with a thin-lipped smile before she walks to her desk.
“Ms. Dunaway.”
The words fumble through my lips before I can even think twice about it.
She turns slowly to face me, her perfectly shaped eyebrows raising expectantly as she moseys back over to stand in front of my desk.
“Yes, sir?”
I lean forward, swallowing thickly as I gaze up at her through my glasses. “Long night?”
Fucking idiot.
Her relaxed features construe into a grimace. “I had to study for a test I have in linguistics today,sir.”
But if Levi had asked her the same question, I know he would’ve been granted a different reaction. She would’ve shrugged it off like everything else that left his mouth. His annoying mouth that I want to rip clean from his face.
I hum in response, licking my lips as I sit back in my chair again. The class buzzes with chattering students, not even paying attention to the way she’s glaring at me. I’ve clearly overstepped, but it’s too late to take it back now—not that I want to with the way she’s fuming, arms crossed over her chest.
“Anything else?” she asks impatiently.
“No. You can be seated.”