Page 12 of Lunar Crest University

“So you can murder me?” I blurt. “No thanks.”

His glare narrows.

“You get sliced and diced in alleys.” My finger raises to point at him, and my body sways. “No way I’m gettin’ inna car with you.”

He leans his head down until his face is inches from mine. “You’re getting in my car, and I’m taking you home, either by choice or by force. It’s up to you.”

I clamp my mouth shut as I watch him walk out of the room, swiftly following him as I tuck my hair behind my ears. The air is piercing as we make our way outside into the moonlight that cascades across the dark campus, stars dotting the night sky. Hugging myself tighter, my teeth chatter as the chill seeps through my clothing. Leaves rustle across the ground in the frigid breeze, crunching underneath my boots as I walk.

My head is spinning again from trying to match his quick pace, and my stomach heaves as my mouth dries.Oh no.

As we rush into the parking lot next to the English Hall, I stop in the grass. I peek up at him to see him walking to his car, gripping the rock wall that lines the perimeter—knowing exactly what is about to happen next.

Leaning against the stone, I hunch over as I prop my palm against my knee. I slowly inhale through my nose, my breaths coming out shakily through my lips as I try to focus on anything but the nausea. But it’s the only thing I can think about as it overcomes me.

“Finley?”

“I’m gonna be sick.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now?—”

I convulse faintly as the vomit interrupts my sentence, toppling forward as I throw up in the grass. If I wasn’t so busy emptying the contents of my stomach, I would focus more on the fact that he brushes my hair from my face just in time—holding it behind me as I puke, much to my dismay.

The blush creeps into my cheeks as the embarrassment settles in my veins. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I groan softly.

“How much did you have to drink?”

“A few beers,” I mutter feebly.

“A fewbeers?” Luca repeats, letting my hair fall as it cascades to the middle of my back. “Ay,Dios mío, Finley. You’re throwing up from a few beers?”

“I don’t drink much, okay?”

I watch him rub the spot between his eyebrows with an aggravated sigh. If I could disappear into thin air, I would undoubtedly do so. The humiliation feels like it’s eating me from the inside out as I wince down at my boots, digging the heel into the dirt patch beneath my feet as I swallow the last bit of morale I have left.

“Let’s just get you home,” he mutters.

As I lift my head to nod reluctantly, I freeze as I realize he’s standing much closer than before. My mouth falls open as he throws his jacket over my shoulders, wrapping it around me before pressing his palm against my lower back—gently guiding me out of the grass toward the empty parking lot. My heart thuds severely inside my chest as I try not to focus on the fact that he’s touching me.

Get a grip.

I’m not sure what I expect Luca to drive, but it isn’t the freshly-waxed, spotless luxury car he leads me toward. I quietly observe him as he whisks the passenger door open for me, giving him a sheepish look as I climb inside. It smells of leather seats andhim, a musky sandalwood with a hint of spice. It’s sad that I know that.

“You were drinking tonight.”

I frown as he speaks while getting into the driver’s side, starting the vehicle without even glancing my way.

“Huh?” I rasp.

“You said you don’t drink often.” He sighs, pulling out of the lot. “But you’re drinking tonight.”

Shrinking down in the seat, I shrug as I stare out of the dark window up at the crescent moon that looks like it’s starting to spin. “My friend wanted me to come to a party and I agreed, so.”

“Your friend couldn’t drive you home?”

“He’s drunk too,” I mumble.

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