Page 18 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

I grab our shit and stand, which prompts her to do the same. Walking in unison, I hold the door for her and point us in the direction of the campus’ front entrance, where her driver will bewaiting for her. It’s about a ten-minute walk across the campus to get there, and I will the time to be enough for her to get back in control of her emotions.

As we make our way across the quad, I’m only half-listening as Bambi talks about her classes and roommates back at Pennington when my focus lands on a familiar figure heading toward the library entrance.

Shae Rivers.

With her head down, she stares intently at her phone, looking like she’s in her own world.

And she probably is. Shae Rivers operates in her own world.

I wasn’t expecting her to challenge me in class, but that was because I wasn’t expectinganyoneto challenge me. It’s not that I think I’m smarter than everyone else. I’m really not. But I work harder than most, which gives me an edge. I usually win because I go after it the hardest.

But Shae? I recognize the fire within her just as much as I recognize it within myself.

Except instead of being on edge all the time like I am, she seems happy. Well-adjusted.

Free.

Keep walking, Sandoval.

In contrast to my thoughts, my feet slow, and Bambi notices.

“What’s up?” She stops beside me, looking around us for what’s snagged my attention.

Except it’s not what, it’swho.

“Nothing,” I say, playing it off, but my feet don’t quite move as quickly as they should. “Actually, hold on. I just need to…grab something from a classmate. Won’t take a sec.”

Bambi pauses.

“All right. I’ll wait over there.” She makes a slow half-turn and gestures toward a bench under a nearby tree.

“Thanks, Bambi,” I murmur, already making my way toward Shae before she can ask any follow-up questions.

As I close the distance, I rack my brain for something—anything—that will sound like a good excuse to talk to her. By the time I reach her, she’s stowed her phone and looks up, catching sight of me before I can call out.

“Storm?” Her eyebrows lift, a surprised look on her face.

“Hey, Shae,” I say, managing to keep my voice casual even though my pulse feels a little too quick. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” I run a hand over my short waves, realizing how fucking lame that sounds as soon as the statement is out of my mouth.

Her lips twist, and I’ve never understood the idea of how someone could laugh with their eyes but damn it if Shae’s don’t.

“Well, I do go here, so…” She gives me a sideways look before darting her gaze toward the door.

Think of something, goddamn it.

“I was curious what other classes you’re taking this semester. If we had more classes in common, I was thinking we could share notes or something.”

There. That works.

“I’m sure you work and shi—er, stuff,” I add. But her face falls, hardens, and she takes a step away from me.

The way that sounds registers in my consciousness a split second before she speaks.

“Yeah. I work. But I’ve got it all covered. I don’t need any help managing my classes.” I’ve never felt more like a dickhead.

My eyes flick down to the stack of papers wedged against her abdomen.

“Canvassing the quad?” I ask. She raises her eyebrow.

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