“Are you staying?” I hissed as he sank down in the seat, his legs spreading slightly in those dark jeans. He looked sexy even with his face propped on his hand, waiting for class to start.
“Where you go, I go.”
All morning, I struggled to concentrate. Schoolwork had always been an escape for me, a way to calm my busy mind, but now I couldn’t stop noticing Remington being so close to me—the way his elbow occasionally brushed mine, the way he moved, the way his aftershave smelled dark and spicy. Every tiny accidental touch for some reason stirred up memories of that dinner, raising a thrill of unexpected lust.
He didn’t seem to be listening, just working on something on his laptop, his fingers flying over the keys and his attention focused there, but no teacher bothered him.
I had a break after my first two classes of the day. “I can go to the library to do homework,” I said, even though my heart sank at the idea. The private carrels of the library would mean I’d need to watch my back the whole time.
“Not a chance,” he said. “You can sit in on my Quantum Physics class.”
I assumed he was fucking with me.Quantum Physicssounded like something he’d make up. But once we were sitting in the lecture hall with all of a dozen other students—all of whom looked at me quizzically—and the professor started talking aboutprobability amplitudes,I started to believe him.
Remington seemed to come alive, too. When he raised his hand, I stole a glance at his face, finding it hard to believe he was actually going to answer a question. Remington had seemed too cool for school.
The professor smiled at him, his eyes crinkling above his white beard. “Yes, Remington? Do you think amplitudes are physically significant?”
“Yes, absolutely. The mathematical scale for probability on the quantum scale is just hard for us to wrap our heads around. And of course, it makes interference effects possible, and that ultimately does impact the physical world.”
I was used to being the smartest person in the room, and I couldn’t help but steal a second glance at Remington as the teacher said he was absolutely right, then continued with his lecture. For once, though, Remington didn’t even look cocky; he was taking notes, a look of concentration written over his handsome features.
When the class ended, I asked, “Why? Why are you taking this?”
“Because a rigorous math and Physics background will make it easier to design my own algorithms for stock trading and take over the world,” he said with a smile.
“Why am I not surprised that would be the end goal?”
At lunch, I opened my laptop to pull up the internet forum, feeling a sense of dread.
Only to receive aPage Not Founderror. I tried other search terms, but nothing could bring up that website or any of the similar ones that I’d found.
When I thought about how Remington had been busy on his laptop during class, I had a sneaking suspicion that he was somehow responsible, but that was ridiculous, wasn’t it?
“Remington,” I said uncertainly.
He tilted back into his chair, staring at me smugly. “Nobody gets to hurt you but us, baby doll. But if you run, I’ll put it all back up.”
“Run?” I asked, my heart pounding, as if I’d never thought about it. “Why would I run when you and I are having so much fun?”
He let out a short laugh. As we headed to the rest of his classes and mine, I realized that despite the admiration everyone gave him, people skirted around him as if he were a predator that might lash out at any moment.
“Everyone seems scared of you.”
“Wise of them.”
“They must not know how easy you are to knock out.”
He glanced at me, a little smile on my lips, and I wasn’t sure what he was going to say. I’d been surprised to find Remington was smart as fuck, and I was curious to talk to him more, if I could ever get him to open up to me. Remington felt like he was all façade, and I wondered who the real man was behind the act.
“Come on, let’s get some homework done,” he said suddenly.
I assumed we were going to the library, which I had very mixed feelings about after that note. Had the note really come from Stellan?
After experiencing how many other ways these men had to torment me, I doubted they’d bother with a silly little note. So, where had it come from? It was one thing to know I had enemies out there who wanted to hunt me down because of what my father did.
It was another thing to know one of those enemies had been able to recognize me after thirty thousand dollars’ worth of plastic surgery. The Demon had friends, and those friends worried me far more than the keyboard warriors bragging about how they wanted to torture me.
I realized we were walking in a different direction than the library and stopped abruptly, concerned he was taking me someplace secluded. “Where are we going?”