“What are we doing tonight then? Are the Crowns still having another Crimson Party?” Chloe’s eyes beam under the sun.
They’re not even shy about using me to get in with the Crowns. After everything, it makes me wonder if that's the only reason they're kissing my ass.
“Hannah.” Right on cue, that voice comes from behind, ricocheting off my bones. “We need to talk.”
“I’m pretty busy,” I respond without turning to him.
“Now, Hannah.”
“Later.” Looking over my shoulder, it’s hard to pull myself away. Rye wears an oversized suit, a silk shirt buttoned down to his abs. With a cigarette hanging off his lip, he looks like he’s in a spread for Italian Vogue. The steam room fresh in my head, it’s easy to want his hands right back on my ass while he poundsme so hard I’m on another planet. But not now. This moment is mine. “I said I’m busy.”
A blur of black sweeps by me before a grip comes to my wrist. Firm. Hard. Rye’s chiselled face appears in front of me with a scowl. “It wasn’t a question.”
“And my response wasn’t a suggestion.” I pull back, my feet planted on the ground. It’s no use. My chest slams against his when he pulls me up with one hard tug. My lips land so close to his I can smell the tobacco on his breath.
“If you want to make this harder, we can,” he growls, pulling my hips against his. His lips come closer, and I hate that I try to close the gap before his mouth comes to my ear. “Don’t let me make you lose control in front of your friends.”
It’s hard to stay focused on standing my ground when I can feel the bulge in his pants hardening by the second. “You’re not in as much control as you think, Rowen.”
His eyes narrow. “I thought we had an understanding.”
Glancing around, we’ve drawn a crowd again. In the distance, I spot Dean Patel’s ugly, outdated pantsuit as she speaks with a student near the main entrance.
“Do you think our dean would have an understanding when she sees you with me like this? Do you think she knows you invaded her office?”
He loosens his grip, glancing at Patel as a wash of cold comes over me that I ignore. His eyes back on me, he looks down, like he still thinks he’s above everyone, including me.
“Hannah, enough. We need to talk.” He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “That email you sent. It’s intense.”
My eyes widen. He finally read it. Glancing at the posse still staring at us, I compromise. “Not here. Let’s talk later.”
His scowl hardens. “Now.” Jerk.
“No.” And with a turn of my heel, I head towards the library’s giant wooden doors. Without him.
“Hannah!” He calls after me. “Don’t be a brat!”
I keep going, ignoring looks from students as I move through the quad.
“Hannah!” His voice tells me he’s close. His voice also tells me he’s angry. There’s a bite to my name, but something in me twists when I hear that hint of desperation.
I’m almost at the library, my eyes on the doors.
“Afonso!”
When I reach out a hand to open the door, a firm grip lands around my wrist. It’s strong enough to pull me away before my back slams into something hard. A tree.
Rye appears in front of me, a storm brewing in his gaze. His hands come to either side of my head, pressing his palms against the large tree trunk.
We’re far enough that people won’t see that he has me cornered, the tree blocking us. But we’re not far enough that I can’t still hear the shuffling of students going by. So I keep my voice low.
“The hell is your problem?” I should know that pushing on his chest is useless. I prove my point when he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head.
“You sent me a nuclear email.” I squirm, but his grip tightens. “We need to talk.” He pushes his hip harder into me, my back pressed against the rough wood. It brings me back to the island, the way we melted into each other, but that was different. We’re on campus. We’re on my domain.
“I own you.”
I don’t want people to see me like this.