Page 174 of Teacher's Pet

He gained nothing from it. No personal reward, no strategic advantage. And yet, the smile on Noah’s face is the biggest I’ve ever seen.

Admiration. Depth. Love.

It’s all written in his expression.

My father finally breaks the silence. "Cole," he says, shifting the conversation. "Your friends made it seem like things ended badly-"

At the mention of his name, my attention flickers past Noah and my dad.

Cole stands at the drink table, his shoulders hunched, his expression hollow. His hand moves lazily, pouring himself another drink, the tension in his frame unmistakable.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, Jake.

He nudges his chin in Cole’s direction, casual, deliberate. Then, slowly, he lifts his hand, shaping his fingers into the shape of a gun.

Pointing it directly at my father.

My stomach twists. A silent warning. A promise wrapped in a threat.

I snap my gaze away, forcing my expression to remain neutral.

"Noah," I whisper, my voice barely above a breath.

I don’t even think about my use of his first name. I just need to get away, need to breathe before the panic sets in.

"Why don’t you update my dad while I grab him a drink?" I say, already stepping back, desperate to put distance between myself and Jake’s veiled threat.

Noah hesitates. My father, however, chuckles. "Noah?" he repeats, amused. "You let your students call you by your first name?"

I glance at Noah. His jaw tightens. His fingers fidget at his collar, his wide eyes darting to mine, silently pleading for backup.

Before I can step in, my dad grins.

"Good," he declares. "I love it. I’ve always hated Spokehaven’s uptight rules. First names always made the staff seem more human."

Thank God for my dad’s relentless optimism.

Noah exhales, shoulders dropping just slightly.

I force a smile, my heart still hammering. "Let me get you both a drink while you chat," I say quickly, stepping away before either of them can question me further.

I need air.

And I need to figure out how the hell I’m going to keep my father safe.

Jake lingers near the drink tables, waiting.

Waiting for me to follow.

I hold my breath, forcing my feet to move, weaving through the crowd with careful, measured steps. I don’t dare look back at Noah or my dad. If I do, I might hesitate. If I hesitate, I might panic.

Cole and Walker blend in effortlessly, sipping their drinks, laughing with professors like this is just another night, another gathering of Spokehaven’s elite. But their eyes, sharp, waiting, and predatory, stay locked on me.

I keep my head down, my fingers tightening around my phone, concealing it behind my back like a lifeline.

Then, I meet him.

Jake’s cold gaze holds mine, his lips curving into a slow, satisfied smirk. A thrill dances in his eyes, like a cat finally cornering its prey.

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