Page 91 of Pretty Little Game

With that, she tugs me from Hannah Fiore’s grasp.

“Thanks,” I breathe as we exit the Theater building, making our way in the general direction of the cafeteria. I feel as though I’m on the verge of tears after so much attention focused on the horrible experience.

Ellie seems to be recovering far more quickly, despite her initial fear during the kidnapping. Probably a much healthier coping strategy in the long run. She was confronting her fear all along. I tried to shove mine into a deep dark corner of my brain, and now it’s coming back to haunt me.

I’ve been having nightmares about that night, flashes of Maksim leaning over me. Only sleeping in Cassio’s arms, which I managed a few times over Thanksgiving Break, have proven to chase the haunting dreams away.

It doesn’t help that I seem to be bearing the brunt of people’s questions for some inexplicable reason. While Ellie’s received several sympathetic comments and Cassio keeps flinching from all the literal pats on the back for his bravery, I’m the one who’s gotten the prying questions.

Most likely, it’s because I’m not a Marchetti or dating one publicly. I’m the safe one to ask the grittier questions because Ilya doesn’t have the authority to shut them up. Not here.

“You okay?” Ellie asks gently as we cross campus at as brisk a pace as her healing ankle will carry her.

“I don’t know. I just need a minute to breathe. I hate to picture what it might be like in the cafeteria, without professors to limit the number of questions people might ask me.” Just the thought of it turns my stomach, and I slowly realize I don’t have much of an appetite.

“I get it,” Ellie agrees sympathetically. “Want me to bring you something to eat during our next class?”

I smile gratefully at my sweet friend. “That would be amazing.”

“Will you be okay on your own?” she asks, her eyes darting to take in our surroundings. That’s where I can see the impact of our trauma affecting Ellie the most. She doesn’t like anyone walking alone. Even with the ridiculous number of campus security guards these days.

“I’m fine,” I assure her. “But do you want me to walk you the rest of the way?”

“No, no. Don’t be silly. I’ll call Lucca, and he’ll be here in a flash.”

I give her a quick smile and a hug. “See you after lunch.”

For a moment, I pause, watching her walk away. I’m not quite sure what to do with myself if I’m not going to have lunch with her. I don’t really feel safe just sitting in my car, waiting. I suppose I could drive home, but it hardly seems worth it when I would have to turn right back around fifteen minutes later if I want to make it to my afternoon class on time.

The subtle scent of bergamot, vetiver, and spice tickles my nose, the delicious smell immediately soothing my frayed nerves.

“Wanting to avoid the mob of fans awaiting you at lunch?” Cassio says playfully, his silky voice making a shiver of anticipation race up my spine.

“You know me too well.” I turn to flash him a smile.

“Do you trust me?” he asks daringly.

“With my life,” I confess, the words coming out far weightier than I had intended.

Glancing swiftly around to ensure no one’s watching, Cassion interlaces his fingers with mine and pulls me swiftly into the English Department building nearby.

“What are you doing?” I murmur, my feet racing to keep up.

He doesn’t answer me, instead dragging me down the empty hall a ways before stopping in front of a door and opening it cautiously. He peeks inside, then whisks me through the doorway, closing it behind me.

The room’s empty and quite dim with the overhead lights turned off. Snagging the chair behind the professor’s desk, he props it against the doorknob, essentially barricading us inside.

I release a breathy giggle as I watch him move purposefully. “No, really, what are you doing?” I demand when he finally turns to face me.

“This,” he murmurs, closing the distance between us to enfold me in his arms.

My back arches, molding me to his body as he leans in and captures my lips. Long fingers spread across my lower back, slowly making their way down to grip my ass, and I hum appreciatively.

“I thought you seemed like you needed a distraction,” he rasps before sweeping me off my feet and wrapping my legs around his waist.

I giggle, my fingers combing into the back of his hair to pull his lips back to mine as he slowly walks me toward the professor’s desk at the front of the room.

With a sweeping gesture, he knocks pencils, chalkboard erasers, and a stack of blank paper onto the floor, setting me gently onto the desk in their place. Legs spread to accommodate Cassio, who presses eagerly against me. I arch into him, relishing the sensation of his strong chest firmly crushing my breasts.

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