Page 43 of Kiss Me Honey Hone

“He said you weren’t.”

“What does he know?”

Taylor’s chest rose. “This is bullshit. It’s not my fault.”

Movement out of the corner of his eye pulled Aaron’s focus. A group of academics ascended the library staircase, voices low, and at the centre, Kenny.

Aaron’s heart stuttered.

Kenny’s presence, even across the library, hit like a jolt. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not in thelibrary. He was supposed to be in the lecture hall. But there he was, surrounded by other professors, pointing to shelves or something equally mundane.

They both lost the game.

The charged silence stretched like a taut wire as their eyes met across the room, then snapped when Kenny saw Taylor. Helooked away, jaw tight, muscles clenching, and Aaron watched him disappear into the rows of books, heart pounding.

Taylor folded his arms, narrowing his gaze with every second Aaron stayed silent. “You know what I don’t understand?” He glanced back toward the stairwell where Kenny disappeared. “What your professor was doing outside my house on the night of the party?”

Aaron said nothing.

“First, he shows up at your room, then he’s at my house the second you disappear.” He turned his accusatory stare back on Aaron. “What’s that about?”

Aaron tightened his grip on Mel’s pen, the plastic creaking under the strain. Would she be upset if he broke it?

Taylor scanned the books spread out on the table. “People at my placement been talking about that Howell case. Happened near here, didn’t it? That why you’ve got such a hard-on for your professor? Cause he worked on it? You think he’s your golden ticket to working with psychos like that?”

That hit the mark and Aaron slammed the book shut, the thud making Taylor flinch. “Do yourself a favour and have some dignity. Told you not to get jealous. We’re over.” He then gathered the books, but in his rush, the folded paper he’d taken from Kenny’s office slipped loose, gliding across the desk to land in Taylor’s lap.

Taylor picked it up.

Aaron held out his hand. “Give it back.”

Taylor arched an eyebrow. Then read it.

“You’ll give yourself a brain haemorrhage you read that.”

Taylor tilted the chair on two legs. “’Child A’s psychological state is a fragile construct built on years of manipulation, neglect, and delusion.’” Taylor peered up at Aaron, reading from the page. “There was a Howell kid?Fuck. Bet he’s messed up.”

“That’s too advanced for a media studies student.”

“Fuck you, Aaron.”

“Give. It. Back.”

Taylor held the page away, still reading. “Why do you care so much? Just research, right? Jesus….’Will have a fascination with control and dominance, a dissociative tendency that could evolve into a detachment from reality under stress, and a suppressed rage that, without appropriate outlets, may manifest in violent or harmful ways.’” He peered over at Aaron. “Sounds like you.”

Aaron launched over the table, snatching the paper from Taylor’s grip to tear it down the middle, jagged edges fluttering to the floor.

Taylor’s face darkened, lips curling into a sneer as he balled up the remaining piece and tossed it at Aaron. “You reallydohave a boner for psychos.” He then shoved back his chair and started toward the stairs. “Might go see what the psych faculty think of their professor visiting his student in his room.”

Aaron’s chest heaved, fury at boiling point. “You go to the psych faculty,” he called after him, voice ringing with venom, “and I’ll go to the Student Union. Tell them you and your rapist housemates roofied me. They’ll strip you of your LGBTQ+ presidency before you’ve even had time to put the condom on to fuck the next fresher twink you all have your bets on.”

Taylor froze mid-step, back stiffening. Slowly, he turned, his face a complicated mask of shock and indignation, with something else lurking underneath.Doubt. He searched Aaron’s face, bravado cracking just enough to reveal uncertainty. Not for whether Aaron would go through with his threat, but if it was based on truth. If Taylorwastotally oblivious, if he knew nothing, he’d continue with his own warning, safe in the knowledge Aaron had nothing on him or his housemates. But if he believed, even for a smidgen, that someone who’d been in his house the night of the party had it in them to spike his drink, then he’d have no choice but to walk away from Aaron’s life and keep his mouth shut.

But whatever he did, whether or not Taylor had been in onthe drugging, the outcome for Aaron remained the same. He’d lost his trust and people didn’t come by it often. He’d not confided anything about himself to Taylor and now, staring him in the face, was the justification for not. Because at the snap of a finger, a twist of the knife, he’d use it against him.

Taylor’s lips parted as if to say something, but nothing came out. Whatever shred of doubt he had—whether it was about his housemates or his own actions—was enough to stop him. He turned back around and stalked out of the library without another word.

The second he was gone, Aaron fell back into his seat, trembling with adrenaline. He balled his fists, nails digging into his palms as rage surged like a tidal wave, unstoppable. Kicking the chair opposite, Aaron lost control, and the force sent it clattering to the floor, and he slammed his fists onto the table, the echo reverberating across the hushed library.

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