Page 9 of Break Me
I stare at him, waiting for my body to react. Or my mind. Or something. But for some reason, I just keep staring. Blankly. I don’t know what to say. Or feel. Or think.
His smile falters. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
I mean, hypothetically?
I nod. “I would.” I glance at my phone, flip it over. Right on time, it lights up with another text from Dad, probably an emoji and him telling me Mom is okay but sleeping a lot which is why I should stay away. I’m not stupid. I know she’s not okay. But I kind of want to believe his lies anyway.
“I gotta go. Dad needs me.” Dumont knows about Mom. “Text soon!” I breeze past him before he can reach for me or call my name. I crash into the door, thankfully opening it at the same time, and haul ass down the hallway. I take the stairs down two at a time (something I’ve perfected in heels) and then hit a hard wall when I reach the landing to the English building.
I stumble back, craning my neck up.
Well, well, well.
It’s not a wall. It’s the asshole in the Mercedes. And he’s got his arm slung around a girl with long, light bronze hair. They both face me, the girl’s wide green eyes full of amusement as she looks from me to Mercedes Asshole and back again, as if she’s waiting for something.
I see just how big the guy is now that he’s out of his car, and I can’t believe I had the balls to get out of mine and confront him. He has full lips, a chiseled jaw, and flecks of emeralds in his eyes.
He’s...really hot.
“Sorry,” I stammer, taking a step back on the stairs, nearly losing my balance. I shake my head. “I was in a hurry—”
“Clearly,” he says smoothly, his voice deep.
The pretty girl he’s got his arm around elbows him in the side, hard, which is brave, considering she’s scrawny and he’s...huge.
He jerks his head in her direction. “This is Riley,” he says, and I notice he doesn’t have a Southern accent. I’m not sure what accent he has, but I don’t think he’s from here.
I look to Riley and reach out my hand. She shakes it, then let’s go and looks down. She seems...shy. Or maybe she’s wondering why the hell her boyfriend is introducing her to some random chick.
“And what’s your man’s name?” I ask her, knowing exactly what I’m doing.
She laughs softly and rocks back and forth in her worn Vans. “He’s not my man. His name is Benji.” She nudges Benji again. He sighs and reluctantly disentangles his arm from round her, holding out his tan hand to me.
I take it, happy this girl isn’t dating him as he grips my hand firmly. I don’t need a relationship, but fuck if I wouldn’t mind some no-strings-attached sex. Especially with this pending divorce Dumont sprung on me.
“Ava,” I say to both of them.
Riley dips her head, her hair scattering in her eyes. She turns to Benji. “See ya later.” She makes to walk up the stairs but Benji reaches out and grabs her ripped backpack, jerking her to a halt.
I frown. What the hell?
She glances back at him, seeming annoyed, which, no shit, I would be too.
“I’ll be right here,” he says to her.
I see her cheeks turn pink and then she nods, smiles at me—although it doesn’t quite meet her eyes—and scurries up the stairs.
“What are you, her daddy?” I ask him as he watches her ascend the staircase. His eyes don’t leave her until I hear the double doors open and close after her.
Then he looks at me. “No.”
He turns to go without another word. I watch him. Watch his muscles beneath his dark blue t-shirt. The way his sweat pants—Tom Ford?—fit his nice ass.
I shake my head. What is wrong with me? My mom is dying, I’m fucking my professor who’s getting a divorce, I’m in my extended stay at this outrageously expensive university, and I’m admiring a stranger’s ass. A stranger who was hanging all over a pretty girl named Riley who seems too nice for this asshole. And maybe she said they weren’t dating, but maybe he wants to be.
He pushes the door open and then glances back at me, cocking a dark brow. “Your next class at the bottom of the stairs?” he asks quietly.
I close my mouth, mortified that it was hanging wide open. Then I scurry off the stairs and head to the door he’s got open.
