Page 25 of Butterfly

“Keep your hands to yourself,” Mason barked at him, suddenly looming above us. To me he said, “You have ink on your face. Go wash it off.”

“Don’t you tell me what to do. You don’t control me.”

“Wanna bet?”

I rose out of the desk and we stared at each other, neither one of us willing to back down.

Which is when the professor joined us.

“Well, this looks intense,” she noted. “But this works. Ms. Berger, Mr. Calloway, you’ve volunteered to work on the first project together—female desire in early American literature.” She raised her voice so everyone in class could hear her. “Each of you will find a partner and you’ll choose a significant story from the literary canon, and you’ll write your own story or script with your partner reinterpreting it. Go ahead, pair up. There may be one threesome.”

There were titters throughout the room. I also felt eyes burning into my back, from the girl that Mason had (temporarily, probably) abandoned for his pissing match with Dan.

“Yes, I said threesome. You are all adults now, act like it. Mr. Calloway, if you’ll kindly take a seat.”

At first, Mason resisted, like he wasn’t going to listen to her. But he apparently wasn’t the type to rebel against a teacher openly—he’d find sneakier ways to get his revenge. It didn’t surprise me; our entire battle this summer had taken place under our parents’ noses. Straightening to his full, intimidating height, he then swaggered back to his seat, turning to glance back at me a few times.

Satisfied, the professor looked at me. “Chin up, Ms. Berger,” she murmured, then walked back to her spot in the front of the classroom, where she pulled up the rubric on the screen and started talking us through the assignment and expectations.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize he was your brother,” Dan said, embarrassed.

If he was embarrassed, I was humiliated. I could feel my face turning red. “Stepbrother,” I corrected. “And it’s fine, he’s an asshole.”

“Seems like it. He’s very, er… protective of you? Or possessive? I don’t know, but it was weird,” Dan commented.

I blushed harder. This was the last thing I wanted; to be under the microscope like this. Was this why Mason had interjected himself in our conversation? To embarrass me?

Lost for words, I shrugged. “Yeah, I mean...”

“Do you want to try to switch partners? I can tell Professor Evans that you’d rather work with me, and your stepbrother can work with Eric,” he offered, motioning to the guy he’d paired up with.

I shook my head, not even wanting to imagine what Mason might do if he found out I was partnering with another guy. He may not want me, but between Dan and my RA, he’d made it clear in less than twenty-four hours that no one else could have me. And besides, there was a part of me—small but insistent—that wanted to work with him. Get to know him in a situation where we weren’t adversaries, but collaborators. I hated that I was excited to spend time with him.

And what had the professor meant by chin up? What had she seen in my eyes? In Mason’s?

I ruminated over this for the remainder of class. When she dismissed us, Dan asked me if I wanted to get coffee, but I shook my head.

“I should get back to my dorm and get some work done,” I told him, forcing a smile. “Maybe another time?”

“Sure,” he said easily. “And the offer still stands about partnering up.”

“Thanks,” I told him.

He walked off. A moment later, Mason appeared at my side. I hated how my body sizzled and then settled, first at the excitement of having him nearby, and the security of knowing he wasn’t with the redhead.

“C’mon, let’s go get this over with,” he snapped.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” I snapped right back.

“Butterfly, you are testing my patience. Is that what you’re trying to do? Do you want my attention? Want me to bend you over this desk and spank your bratty ass in front of everyone who’s here?”

“You’re disgusting,” I said, glaring at him, even though his words sparked something in me.

He got in my space, using a finger to tilt my chin up so he could look directly in my eyes. I shivered from the heat of his body, the touch of his skin to mine.

“Then I suggest you shut your pretty mouth and follow me out this door before it gets you into more trouble,” he said.

My sex spasmed at the thought, and his eyes heated.

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