Page 114 of Bad for Me

What the hell?

I huff. “You’re giving me whiplash, Woods. First you bully me in class, then we ‘almost’ have sex in your office. That was a mistake, then it’s not. Now you’re upset about my accident… What the hell is going on?”

His eyes flit over my face as his own works into a grimace. Finally, he shoves the wall, backing away from me and turning on his heel as he shakes his head.

“I don’t fucking know, okay?”

Confusion and hurt tighten my chest. But as much as I want answers about his reaction, his intense gaze isn’t on me anymore and relief makes me slouch against the wall.

The way he massages the back of his neck as he stalks toward his desk looks almost painful. My hands itch to reach out and stop him, but he whirls around to face me again before I can.

“My father informed me you were my student this morning. Finding that out threw me off my game, but I decided to get you kicked out right then and there because I’ll be damned if you think you can get a free ride from me like your mother did with my father.”

My fists tighten. “Woods, that isn’t fair?—”

“And then I sawyou.”His gaze latches onto mine, and my heart lurches in my throat, nearly choking me.

He just badmouthed my momagain, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to defend her more, but his entire demeanor changed on that last word. I can’t help but think what he says next might change everything.

“What about me?”

“When I saw you, you were…” He swallows. His brow furrows, his entire expression begging me to read his mind and save him from having to confess whatever he needs to say out loud. “You were…”

I step forward without thinking. His eyes shutter closed as he physically retreats, and I curse myself for ruining the moment. He shakes his head again, and when he reopens his eyes, the hopefulness there is gone. The answer I was looking for remains hidden behind the wall he insists stands between us.

“Youweremy student.” His voice hardens. “‘Were’ being the operative word.”

I straighten and tighten my grip around one of my leather backpack straps. “I’m not going anywhere, Woods.”

“You will. Leave this university or transfer out of my class. You can’t stay here.”

“No.” I point my thumb toward the classroom outside. “I don’t care if you believe me, but I earned my seat in that auditorium. Fail me if you want to, I don’t care. But I’m here because I want to be educated by the best. Graveston Uisthe best, and as much as I hate to admit it to your cocky face, this universityhiresthe best. That means I’m learning from you whether you like it or not.”

He growls, “This isn’t a game, Everly. You have to leave or?—”

“Or what?”

“Or what just happened will happen again,” he snaps before huffing out a frustrated laugh. “I don’t know what the fuck this is or what you’re doing to me, but I won’t give in. I’ve worked my whole life for this position, and I won’t let some blonde bimbo like her mother take it all from me.”

“God, you really are a bully, aren’t you? You say the rotten apple doesn’t fall from the tree, but your shitty, stubborn personality couldn’t be further from your dad’s. Get it through your head, stepbrother. I. Am. Not. Leaving. I’m going to be a writer, and this is thebestplace to learn how tobethe best.”

Anger narrows his eyes, but I swear I saw a smile flash on his face right before that. Did I impress him? If he likes my defiant, fiery side, then maybe I’ll win this war of wills after all.

He stalks forward, but I don’t let him intimidate me.

“Alright, sweet summer child. You want to take a class you have no business being in? Be my guest. But I’m going to grade you the way you deserve. Before this semester is over, you’ll know what a pipe dream it was for you to attend this university. And maybe you’ll finally realize what got you here in the first place. It wasn’t brilliance, I assure you.”

I snort. “Sounds like Professor Thaddeus Woodrow Rutherford the Fourth, a fifth generation Gravvie, might be projecting, but okay. You can’t scare me, Woods. I endured all the pompous assholes my mom married before falling in love with your dad. You’ll be a piece of cake.”

He crosses his arms, and I try to ignore both the fact that his biceps bulge in his white dress shirt and the fact that my thighs are still damp with need. But when he winds a lock of my hair around his index finger and tugs, I can’t resist leaning into him.

His smug smile makes me hate him in that moment.

“If you think you can wrap me around your finger like your mother did my father, think again, sweet summer child. I’m not my father. I don’t have an ounce of gullibility in me.”

“And I’m not like my mother. I don’t let men push me around.” I shove against his chest for emphasis. He lets go of my hair but doesn’t budge, infuriating me even more.

Outside his office walls students laugh as they enter the classroom. They’re obviously much more awake than my class was?—

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