Page 41 of That's Too Pucking Bad

He leans in, his voice dropping to a murmur. “I wish I could, little slut.”

My stomach twists, anger sparking up and spreading fast. But he’s already walking away, leaving me there, words stuck in my throat. I walk into the lecture hall and settle down.

Sitting in class, I tap my pen against my notebook, eyes drifting back to the professor’s slide. Cellular respiration—something I should be able to wrap my head around if I could just focus. Notes fill the page, my handwriting scribbled, each line a little more haphazard than the last.

I’m actually getting it, surprisingly. The whole process is starting to connect, like one big biological puzzle, piece by piece. I half-smile to myself, feeling that rare little spark of confidence as I write down another note. Maybe this isn’t so bad. Maybe I can manage without getting sidetracked by thoughts of a certain someone.

The professor wraps up, dismissing us, and the class filters out slowly. I gather my stuff, watching through the window as rain pelts down in sheets. Seriously? The forecast didn’t mention a monsoon.

Outside, I huddle under the awning, clutching my books to my chest. My first instinct is to call Colin, but things have beenso awkward lately. He’s barely around, and when he is, it’s like he’s miles away. I pull out my phone, hesitating, and then the loud hum of an engine makes me look up.

A sleek sports car pulls up in front of me, headlights cutting through the downpour. Black, polished to perfection, the kind of car that screams money. The window rolls down, and I blink, surprised as hell.

Zane.

“You gonna stand there all day?” he calls out, one eyebrow raised, like he’s amused by my shock.

I cross my arms, glaring. “I’m getting an Uber.”

“Yeah? Thought I just saved you the trouble.” He smirks, tilting his head toward the passenger seat. “Get in.”

I shake my head, rain starting to soak through my jacket. “No thanks, I’ll wait for my ride.”

His eyes narrow, and he leans closer to the window. “You sure? ‘Cause I’m about two seconds from getting out, picking you up, and throwing you into the car myself.”

I swallow, glancing at the heavy rain. The last thing I want is to draw more attention, especially with Zane. Sighing, I walk around to the passenger side, sliding in before he can make good on his threat.

The seat is warm—so warm it sends a bit of relief up my back. He doesn’t look over at me right away, just reaches for his phone, flicking through playlists before he hits play. Soft guitar fills the car, a familiar tune, and I glance over, raising an eyebrow.

“Taylor Swift?” I say, unable to hide a smirk.

He shrugs. “Figured it’d make you less… grumpy.” He glances over, catching the corner of my smile. “Look at that, it worked.”

“Yeah, whatever.” I settle into the seat, trying to ignore the way my lips twitch up. “Still don’t like being seen with you.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” he says, smirk growing. “But here you are.”

The rain pounds against the windows as we drive, a steady, heavy sound. Zane stays quiet, his gaze fixed on the road, and I find myself glancing over at him, catching the slight shadows under his eyes. He looks… tired. Like he hasn’t slept in days. Dark circles hint at exhaustion he’s trying to hide, and I bite my lip, debating if I should ask.

“Are you… How are you?”

He smirks, side-glancing at me. “Careful, Remy, or I’ll start thinking you actually give a damn.”

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms. “Don’t be a dick.”

He just laughs, though it’s softer than usual. We pull up outside of Hollister Hall, and he kills the engine, turning to face me, eyes studying my face with an intensity that makes my pulse spike.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low, coaxing. “Can you meet me for coffee tomorrow morning?”

I blink, caught off guard. “Uh… I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please, baby,” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower. “Or I’ll be forced to climb into your house tonight and…”

I gasp, smacking a hand over his mouth. “Don’t say another word, Zane.”

He chuckles, licking my hand just to mess with me. I yank it away, wiping it on my jacket, and he grabs it, bringing it to his lips. His eyes meet mine as he kisses my palm, slow, deliberate.

“You’re so damn beautiful, Remy,” he says softly, his gaze holding mine. “Just coffee. A public place. Promise we’ll keep it… decent.”

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