Page 42 of Whirlwind

I want to growl in frustration. “It’s not important. Like I said, we should focus on the chase.”

“Finley—”

“I need to use the bathroom.”

He stares at me for a long moment before he exhales. “Alright, I’ll let it go. But Fin-Fin, no matter what ends up happening between you and Ryker, remember that you’re here because you deserve it. I don’t need to be in your master’s classes to know that—you’ve always been a natural at this stuff. Plus, you’re smart, you know weather, and you survived a fucking tornado last night.”

“I did,” I affirm. I know everything he’s saying is right, even if part of me still questions it.

“You did. Also, Ryker wouldn’t have given you a spot on this chase if you didn’t deserve to be here, so don’t question yourself.” We hold our gaze for a long moment before he leans down and kisses me on the cheek. “I’ll see you back out there.”

Once Joey’s gone, I close and lock the door, gripping the porcelain sink while staring at myself in the water-stained mirror. I consider pulling out my cell and calling Jake for a peptalk, but then I’d have to explain to him why I needed one. Instead, I let Joey’s words tumble in my sleep-deprived and overused brain. He’s right—Idodeserve to be here, regardless of my relationship with Ryker. Whatever that relationship is.

Knock! Knock!

The sharp rapping on the door jolts me, and I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

I use the bathroom and wash my hands, giving my appearance a once-over again in the mirror. I look tired, but beyond that, I look exactly like I did yesterday. Not that I should look differently—it’s not as if I have a tattoo on my forehead that says, “I slept with my professor.” I snort at myself.

Knock! Knock!

I groan in annoyance and yank open the bathroom door, expecting to see an angry stranger on the other side.

Instead, I see a grumpy-looking Ryker.

Chapter fifteen

Ryker

Finley stares at mefrom inside the bathroom, and for a moment, I forget why I marched over here to begin with. Her eyes reflect how tired she is, and even I can see she looks a little sad—which I’ll assume is my doing—but I can’t stop myself from barking out, “Can we talk?”

Her shoulders straighten. “About what?”

I want to say,About Joey coming out of the bathroom moments ago—the bathroom you were also in, but I manage to pull in my green-eyed monster. “I—” I look around to make sure there’s nobody near us. Thankfully, there isn’t. “About us.”

Finley blinks then steps out of the bathroom with her arms crossed over her chest. “There is no us. You made that clear.”

I try not to flinch at her words, even though they’re true. “Please, Finley. Let me at least apologize.”

Her eyes narrow. “NoMs. Buckleythis time, Professor West?”

My stomach feels as if there’s a lead ball in it. I know I deserve every bit of her snark and that I don’t deserve to feel hurt by anything she says or does, but I can’t help it. “I’ll call you anything you want me to call you. Please, let me apologize.”

“If it’s an apology for sleeping with me, I don’t want to hear it.”

My eyes widen at her brazen words, and I shake my head. “No, that’s not what—” My sentence is cut off by sounds of laughter that I’d know anywhere: Ezra. My nostrils flare, and awave of anxiety sets in at the idea of being seen. I glance over my shoulder at the way I came then turn back to Finley as the sound of Ezra’s laughter moves closer now, invading our space.

She sighs in exasperation, and before I can think of what to do next, she grabs me by the front of my T-shirt and pulls me into the bathroom. She turns me and presses my back against the now-closed door, her body so close to mine I can smell her shampoo. I swallow, every nerve in my body sparking as I try to keep my natural reaction to her tamped down. The last thing I need right now is to get a hard-on. Especially if she and Joey—

No, I don’t want to think about that.

“Ms. Buckley.” The formal address is way too breathy to be anything but inappropriate. Her hard gaze softens a bit as she stares at my lips then up into my eyes. It takes her a split second to remember herself and her anger, and when she does, she steps back and pokes me in the chest.

“Say what you want to say. You have thirty seconds.”

“Fin—”

“Time’s ticking, Professor West.”

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