Page 31 of Voyeur
“I was just dropping my friend off. Coming back from a party.”
He nodded, but still watched me closely. “I thought those ran later than eleven.”
“Maybe. I guess it just wasn’t for us. Especially when it’s filled with dickholes. Sorry,” I finished, apologizing for swearing in front of my professor.
He walked closer, looking me over with obvious concern. “What do you mean? What happened? Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I answered weakly. “Some of the guys were just getting handsy with Olivia and me, threatening things. So, I tried defending us.” I laughed humorlessly. “But you know, it’s hard to be five-five and move a mountain. I got shoved and fell pretty hard.” I gestured to my arm and watched his jaw harden. A muscle twitched in his cheek, and I rushed to explain the ending. “Some other guys stepped in to help and got us out of there.”
I looked down, too ashamed to meet his eye. Ashamed that we’d fallen into the assaulted girl category. Ashamed I couldn’t do more to defend myself and my friend.
“Let me see,” he said, his voice hard.
My head shot up. His usually bright eyes were dark and looked to be barely restraining his rage.
“I’m fine.”
“Let. Me. See.”
Taking a deep breath, I shed my coat and exposed my arm.7I think we were both shocked to find dried blood that dripped down my elbow and a decent gash.
“Mother fuck,” he muttered.
I almost laughed. Dr. Pierce was light and happy when he taught, and in my slightly manic state, his cursing was funny somehow.
“Follow me. We have a first aid kit in the department.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to do—”
“Oaklyn, please.”
Despite his anger, pain softened his eyes.
“Okay,” I agreed, not hating the idea of him tending to me.
I followed him into the building. We didn’t speak at all until we reached his office.
“Take your jacket off. I’ll be right back.” His voice was brusque and loud after the silence.
I did as he asked and sat in the chair in front of his desk. When he returned, he carried a first aid kit and sat in the chair next to me. While he searched for what he was looking for, I looked him over. He’d lost the tie he usually wore in classes, leaving a few buttons open,8exposing a smattering of chest hair that screamed masculinity. It was crazy, but I had to fight to keep from leaning forward and touching it. His hair was more mussed than usual. Like he’d spent the evening running his frustrated fingers through it. It was a good look on him.
“Alright,” he said. “Turn a bit so I can see.”
When he got a good look at the injury, his eyes closed, and he swallowed hard. His concern caused a burning behind my eyes. How long had it been since someone had been upset by my pain? Maybe I missed my family more than I thought.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“It’s going to look worse tomorrow,” he said through a clenched jaw. “This is going to hurt a bit.”
His long fingers wrapped behind my arm, brushing against the tender skin, sending goose bumps down my arm and up my neck. It was the first time he’d touched me, and the heat from his skin burned the memory into my brain. The light pressure was more erotic than any touch I’d ever had. Was it only the forbidden aspect? The fact that I couldn’t have him, made every touch all the more intense?
Suddenly, I sucked air in through my teeth as he wiped around the wound with alcohol and finished with peroxide. Instead of erotic tingles from his touch, the fiery burn had my own jaw clenching.
“Sorry,” he whispered. I grit my teeth and nodded, encouraging him to continue. “So, what exactly happened tonight?”
“We went to a frat party,” I said, shrugging like it explained everything.
“Did anyone . . .” He paused, taking a deep breath before he continued. “Did anyone touch either of you? In any other way.”
