Page 2 of Bright Like Midnight (Savage U)

He reached across the console to place his hand on my leg. He didn’t go too high, but he curled his fingers around my inner thigh in a way that said he had every right to do so. And I guessed since I’d never stopped him, he probably thought he did.

Elliott Schiffer wasn’t a very nice guy, but he was persistent in his interest in me. We’d shared a class last semester, and since then, he’d doggedly tried to catch my eye. I didn’t quite understand it, but since I also didn’t date, I had always politely, but firmly, turned down his invitations to join him for a meal or to attend a party.

Things changed recently, and when Elliott once again asked me to have lunch with him in the dining hall, I’d relented. Over the past two weeks, we’d done that four or five times. We’d gone to a movie, studied together in my suite, watched Netflix in his. It hadn’t all been unpleasant, but under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have gone on more than one or two dates with Elliott before—again, politely but firmly—extracting myself from the situation.

My circumstances were anything but normal lately. I was a boat without sails, floating around to findanythingthat would lead me to safe harbor.

Elliott wasn’t really a safe harbor, but I was hoping he would be thatsomethingthat took me there.

“I was surprised you wanted to go to this party.” He squeezed my thigh. “It doesn’t seem like your scene. Things can get...out of hand. You still have time to change your mind.”

I smiled at him, which he caught in his periphery. “No, I want to go. I feel like all I do is study. I haven’t been to even one big college party.” I placed my hand over his. “Besides, I’ll be with you, so I know I’ll be fine.”

“You know I’ll take care of you, Zadie.” His hand slipped an inch up my thigh. “You need someone to take care of you. You’re too sweet to be out in the world on your own. I knew that from the first time I saw you.”

I hated what he was saying, but it wasn’t exactly untrue. Not that I was too sweet, but that I needed someone.

I laughed. “The first time you saw me, I was almost in tears from being yelled at by Dr. Marino. God, that guy…”

Elliott didn’t laugh. “He’s a fucking prick. I should have reported him for how he treated you.”

On the first day of class last semester, our sociology professor had been running late. He’d burst into the classroom and knocked me splat on the ground. His coffee had spilled everywhere—thankfully not on me—and he had beenpissed. Somehow, his ire had been directed at me, even though I was the injured party. I’d held in my tears, but, man, it had been a close one.

“Fortunately, I survived and will never have to take a class taught by him again.”

“Fuck him,” Elliott muttered under his breath.

“Yeah.” Pressing my legs together, I shifted to the side, ensuring my skirt didn’t ride up too high. “Let’s not talk about that. I’d love to forget it. Tell me about the party. What should I expect?”

Elliott liked to feel important, and this was just the thing to give him that. He spent the rest of the drive rubbing my thigh and telling me about the past parties he’d been to. This one was at a warehouse on the opposite side of Savage River to Savage U. As we got closer, driving down the quaint main street and past the massive Savage River High School, light seemed to be sucked from the atmosphere. The roads became less smooth, the buildings dirty and some dilapidated, and then we were in a more industrial area on the very outskirts I’d never had cause to go to.

Elliott parked in ano-parkingzone along a crumbling curb. Since this wasn’t my first time in his car, I knew to wait for him to round to my side and open the door for me. He got insulted if I let myself out.

He held my hand as we walked to the entrance of the warehouse, keeping me close to his side. My knees were shaking, so I was grateful to have his support, even though I didn’t love how proprietary he was with me.

I became even more grateful when we entered the warehouse. It wasn’t packed, but there were people scattered all over in the vast, dimly lit space. From the scattered furniture, it looked like someone—or a few someones—lived here.

Elliott leaned down and pressed his mouth to my hair. “Don’t worry, Zadie. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“You won’t leave me?”

He peered at me. His gaze wasn’t warm, but it was possessive. “I’ll have to for a little bit, but I’ll find someone for you to stay with. Let’s get drinks and not think about things like that.”

The bar was actually just a folding table covered in myriad liquor bottles and stacks of red Solo cups with a keg standing beside it. Since the last thing I wanted to do was get wasted, this was more than enough for me. Elliott studied his choices while I grabbed a cup and went to the keg, determined to figure out how it worked.

I stood there, fingering the hose, tracing my nail over the valve, fairly certain I would be able to fill my cup with beer, especially considering these things were used by drunken frat bros. If they could do it, so could I.

Except the hose was swiped out of my hand, followed by my cup. “I’ll do that for you, Zadie.” Elliott pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “You know I would never allow you to pour your own drink.”

When he handed me the halfway-filled red cup, my lips curved in what I hoped was a gracious smile. “Thank you so much, Elliott. What a gentleman.” Then I pushed out a giggle for good measure.

That seemed to please him. He cupped the back of my head and dragged me into his chest. His half-mast erection dug into my hip, and he made no effort to pull away.

“I’m not always a gentleman, baby,” he cooed.

“Oh.” So far, Elliott had been gentlemanly to an extreme. His chivalry almost felt like a weapon, forcing me into a box marked ‘my little woman.’ This move, this heavy flirtation, was unprecedented. I didn’t know what to say.

He tucked my curls behind my ear. “You’re so sweet when you blush.” Then he tapped my cup. “Drink, but don’t get sloppy, okay? I don’t like when girls get plastered. It’s not a good look.”

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