Page 161 of Forbidden Lessons

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Chapter 46

Haven

I’m making an absolute pig of myself, but Bastian should know I don’t play around when I’m eating. I revere food like the glorious sustenance that it is. Anyone who spent as many nights without supper as I have, would worship at its temple too.

And it’s weird, because I’m pretty sure a well-off guy like Professor Rooke has never known what hunger is, but he seems to enjoy every morsel just as much as I do.

It’s the way his eyes drift closed, as if trying to enhance every bite.

I keep catching myself staring at him.

Thankfully, he only catches me once.

“I refuse to apologize for the way I’m eating,” he says, wiping his mouth with a napkin before sipping his beer. “This food is fantastic.” He turns around, giving the stand with its handful of chairs and tables a quick scan. “Can’t believe I haven’t heard about this place before.”

“People that side of the Agony River tend tostaythat side.” I don’t know if it’s the food or the alcohol, but I’m feeling so relaxed I could put my head down and sleep for a week. Or just kick back and listen to some music, like we did at Bastian’s house the other night.

Shit. I totally forgot what this lunch was all about.

I push the sorry remains of my meal away. I’m stuffed, but I’m still considering licking out the traces of guacamole left in the wrappers.

“So, uh, the vibe isn’t what I was hoping for, but I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Professor Rooke.”

Bastian pauses en route to tearing into his last taco, and I feel shitty for stopping him in his tracks like that. He puts it back in the basket and wipes his mouth again, taking his time, glancing around like he’s people watching.

“Vibe?”

We both glance up as thunder rumbles in the distance.

“This was going to be my treat,” I say.

His gaze is sharp when it lands on me again. “I apologize if I’ve given you the wrong impression.”

A spike of panic goes through me. “What do you mean?”

He takes another sip of beer, setting it down and turning it on its axis for a moment as he looks away. “Miss Lee, listen to me carefully.”

Fuck, that panic spreads through my body, tingling in my fingertips. How the hell did I piss him off so quickly? There’s this sudden tightness at the corner of his eyes that I’m not imagining. The way his fist curls around his beer.

His eyes flick back to mine and I can’t bear the eye contact he’s making, but I’m too scared to look away.

“Our relationship is not transactional. You needed a place to stay. There was an open bed at the sorority. You needed reliable transportation. I had a spare car. You’re making this into something it’s not.”

I should feel relief, but instead I’m suffocated in dread.

“I didn’t mean?—“

I cut off at a shake of his head. He glances away again, then back in my direction, but looking past me, not at me.

“I was just trying to help.”

“Yes, of course, and I know that, but it’s just… it’s a lot, okay?” He’s still not looking at me, and for some reason, I need him to. Maybe it’s to gauge his response better, maybe it’s just because having him look at me is a weird fucking obsession I’ve developed over the past few days.

No one’s looked at me the way he has. With so much respect. Admiration. And genuine curiosity.

I grab his arm, squeezing the muscles beneath.

---