Page 11 of Lunar Crest University

He nods. “One of those, huh?”

I empty my cup for the second time.

“Got it,” he chuckles, taking it from me and walking toward the keg to pour me some more. “Getting drunk, it is.”

And this is why Levi Matthews is my best friend. He can read me like a book without me even saying much, and he never pressures me to either. We can comfortably exist in silence together for hours and just be content with each other’s company. In all the four years I’ve known him, we’ve never been interested in each other romantically, but he’s been attached to my hip since—movie nights at my place, study sessions, and holidays at my parent’s house. Levi’s relationship with his family is rocky, and mine accepted him with open arms. We just…fit.

And he’s the best drinking partner.

Five cups of beer later, I’m stumbling down the steps of the frat house toward the English Hall with the intent to wreak havoc on my mind.

My sound judgment is so impaired that trashing Professor Serrano’s office seems like a good idea. I’ve always been a lightweight. The alcohol has me all tingly and fired up, like there’s nothing that can possibly stop me, until I finally stagger my way there and decide to just be nosy instead. I rest my handon the doorknob, twisting slightly and finding it unlocked. My curiosity piques as I carefully open the door, flicking the light on and waltzing inside. My need to meddle takes over my want to destroy his desk and everything that sits on it.

Which is quite tidy, now that I inspect it up close. Trailing my finger along the darkened wood, I examine the perfectly aligned stacks of paper, the two sharpened pencils that lay side by side, and the nameplate that readsLuca Serrano. Reading his full name sends chills down my spine, little electric shocks that prickle my nerve endings.

There are no photos, nothing personal to even give me an inkling about the kind of person he is.

A yelp escapes my lips as the door slams behind me, making me whirl around with my hand fluttering over my chest.

“Finley?”

I gulp as I peek up at Professor Serrano, who stares down at me. His eyes are shadowed in the light, his glasses folded and hanging from the collar of his sweater, his sleeves rolled quarter-length with his jacket draped over his arm. In my drunken stupor, I pitifully notice the veins on his muscular forearms, and my cheeks flush a deep crimson as I glance down at my boots.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“What’reyoudoing here?”

Swaying faintly, I peer back up at him with my bottom lip tucked between my teeth.

“Are you drunk?” Luca questions firmly, the wrinkle between his brows furrowing.

“No…” I hiccup. “...Yes.”

He appears troubled as his fingers extend out toward me before yanking them quickly back to his side. “Are you here by yourself? Did you walk?”

His rapid questions only make my brain spin even more. The room is even turning a bit. Shaking my head, I rub my foreheadas I turn back toward his desk, leaning over it to place my palms against the cool wood.

“I was looking…around,” I squeak, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to stop the churning in my stomach.

Now is not the time to throw up, Finn.

“At eleven o’clock at night?”

“You’re also here at—” I pause, lifting my wrist to check my imaginary watch as I twirl to face him. “Eleven o’clock,sir.”

If I wasn’t entirely buzzed and could trust my own eyes, I would have sworn I’d seen the corner of his lips twitch. If it had, he composed it before I could even study him through a squint to find out. Instead, he sucks in a deep breath, rubbing his chin as he examines me for a moment.

“I left some papers here,” Luca explains gruffly. “I came by to grab them and saw the light on.”

Another hiccup. “Well, here I am. Here to ruin your night. ‘Cause the sight of meannoysyou.”

His lips press into a thin line as he walks around me to grab the stack of papers from his desk, stuffing them inside the bag he has slung over his shoulder. Clearing his throat, his eyes fall on me again, and his tongue presses against his cheek. The movement makes my breath halt in my throat as I watch him. It shouldn’t be such a turn-on, but it is—or is that the liquid courage talking?

“I’ll take you home.”

I frown. “Oh,no. Don’t need you to do that. I can?—”

“What?” Luca cuts me off as he arches a brow. “You’ll walk? Not at this time of night. I’m driving you home.”

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