Page 29 of Crimson Promises
“Mhm.” I nodded.
Vic didn’t need to know about Riley’s desire for constant PDA. I peered around Vic to look at the clock through the glass door above the concierge’s front desk in the lobby, ready for a change in subject. “I should probably get going. I still want to grab a coffee before class. I’ll confirm with you about dinner soon.”
“Be sure you do. Darlene’ll get thedeetsout of you.”
I started walking away backward. “She can try.”
“For goodness’ sake, walk properly, Ms. James. You just recovered from an accident. You don’t need another one.” He shook his head. “Shouldn’t you be taking the car instead?”
“Have a good day, Vic,” I laughed, facing straight ahead and speeding away. He was right—I should be taking the car. The shiny black Lexus sedan, to be exact—a rental until the Nissan is fixed. I’ve refused to drive it as much as possible. Everything was new and shiny. It had heated seats, power steering, and even a warmer for the steering wheel. How am I supposed to go back to driving a regular car after that? The less exposure I have to it, the better for my bank account.
And I could use the fresh air anyway, I still wasn’t sure what to do about Riley. I hadn’t heard from him this morning, and I haven’t messaged him either. I always imagined having these sorts of dilemmas—the reality was they weren’t quite as exciting as I thought. If anything, they added stress. To text or not to text was undoubtedly the question.
* * *
Arch Cape University’s campus blended historical architecture and green spaces with a backdrop to this bustling university town. Part of what drew me here was that the campus buildings were scattered throughout the city. The institution and urban center were one organism. But on days like today, I deeply regretted not choosing a school with everything focused around the quad.
I scurried across the crosswalk trying to get to class, the foam of my matcha latte sloshing over the edge and burning my thumb, making me wince. With the lid in my right hand, I blew a breath over the burn, cursing myself for not taking a few minutes to secure the lid when I had a solid surface in front of me.No point crying over spilled matcha.Rushing like I had been all morning, I made my way to the Conn Commons, a domed rotunda drawing inspiration from the grandeur of European architecture. The building was mainly used for academic lectures and housed the convocation ceremony for graduates every year.
As I approached the rounded hall, multiple sets of double doors squeaked open with students streaming out.Oh, good. The previous lecture ran long.Thank you, Universe.
A crowd of students loitered around the massive stone pillars near the entrance, waiting for the all-clear. I hung on the outskirts to avoid getting trampled before making my way inside, to the third level.
The professor was at the podium setting up for class. I sat in the middle of the second row, put my bag in the seat next to me, and propped my legs up on the empty seat in front of me. I glanced around the lecture hall, noting the tiered seating reminiscent of an old opera house.
A moment later, the professor adjusted the microphone and said, “Good morning, everyone. Welcome. I am Dr. Marten Spencer, and I will be teaching you for the next seven weeks. I hope everyone—“. The professor’s lips continued to move soundlessly.
Realizing the mic cut out, he projected his voice, “Give us some time to sort out some technical difficulties, and we will resume momentarily.”
Great, I rushed over here for nothing. I cupped both hands around my latte, grateful that I decided to stop for a cup instead of running straight here. Buying matcha was my guilty pleasure, and I would apologize to no one for it.
A squeak behind me caught my attention. A guy with midnight hair stepped through the arched doorway into my private spot. It fell in a casual, tousled manner, drawing attention to sharp yet inviting features—a strong jawline softened by the hint of a smile that seemed to play on his lips, the bottom one slightly fuller than the top. He had to duck to get into the space. I bit my lip.
He searched the empty section before his eyes landed on me.
His green eyes met mine, a jolt of electricity flashing through me. Before I could consider it further, he broke the contact and turned his attention back to the empty seats.
I knew it was impolite to stare, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, drinking in the sight of him like a starving woman seeing a feast. The navy blue waffle henley he wore stretched across his chest and molded to his impressive physique. Don’t get me wrong, Riley was built, but he was bulky and boxy. His form came from physically pushing people and lifting weights. Whoever this guy was held muscle but was lean, almost as if he had to be light on his feet like a boxer.
He entered the same row that I was seated in.
I took another sip of my drink and again focused on the professor, who was still working out the technical difficulties. I did not need this guy to notice me outright ogling him.That will only happen when he isn’t looking.I pulled out my laptop, powering it on.
He flipped the seat down and pulled a spiral notebook out of his messenger bag. The click of his pen filled the silence.
Averting my attention to my laptop, I moved the mouse around and pulled up a blank document. Out of my peripheral vision, I could see he was jotting something down in his notebook. His hair fell over his eyes, and I restrained the urge to lean over and brush it away.
The professor once again stepped up to the podium. His eyes were on the technical staff dispatched to help troubleshoot. “Testing one, two, three,” he said.
The tech guy gives him a thumbs up.
“Alright, I apologize for that unexpected albeit brief intermission. You were lucky for those who joined late today, but this was a rare occasion, and I urge you to be on time for the rest of the semester. I’ll always review important advice for upcoming exams and assignments at the top of the hour. If you can turn your attention to the screen behind me, I have a few housekeeping items to review before we dig into the class material.”
The lights in the auditorium shut off, and the glow from the surrounding laptops clustered around the rotunda looked like stars winking in and out of the night. My neighbor was the only one taking paper notes—a bold move in the gloom.
When I glanced his way, I noticed he was already staring at me. I sucked in a deep breath, he startled me. Did he catch me eyeing him? I sank lower in my seat.
I snuck another peek, and sure enough, he was still looking right at me. No apology in his expression. Maybe interest? But in the dark, I couldn’t be too sure. I shifted my hair over my right shoulder and used it to shield the flush creeping across my cheeks.
