Page 28 of Lust

My spine freezes over, remembering the conversation Matthias and I had had in front of the club last night. And how, after I sent James out to clean up the mess of scattered cans, he had come back telling me that all the cans had been gathered, piled into the ripped bag, and placed on the curb. It could only have been Matthias. It had been only minutes after I'd run away from him.

"Have you got it?" Matthias asks, interrupting my thoughts.

"Have I got what?" I snap, embarrassed that he'd caught me in a daydream about him.

A little smirk pulls at his lips. "Have you got my phone? I left it here last night. It must've been on our table."

"Mytable," I snap again. I don't know why I do, maybe it's something in the way he said"our table"when it'smytable, inmyclub. It's completely irrational, and it just makes me even more annoyed.

He sucks in his cheeks, trying not to let the corner of his lips turn into a full-fledged smirk. Asshole. "Well, do you?"

"I don't know. I don't know what your phone looks like!"

"Clarissa?" He cocks an eyebrow, amused instead of annoyed at my behavior as he should me.

"What?"

"There's no need to yell at me."

I scoff and turn away from him, partly because I need to grab the lost and found box from my drawer, partly because the way his Baxter blue eyes are staring at me is making me forget my own name. "I wasn't yelling. I just have a terrible headache."

As I sit down at my desk, I look up to see the smirk instantly dissolve from his face and in its place, his teeth gritted in anger, eyes narrowed. Was it something I said?"

He walks over to the table, leaning over, eyes scanning over my face. "I'm taking you to the hospital, and I'm calling the police."

Fear pushed every other emotion out of my body. "No."

"Clarissa, he was going to—That little fuck was going to hurt you. He"—he glances at the side of my face—"already had."

I shake my head, jumping to my feet. Necessity dictates that I try to fight the urge to steady myself by grabbing the edge of the desk. The last thing I need right now is to show Matthias even more weakness. Suddenly, it's like the table isn't between us, and he leans right across it, his eyes peering right through mine and into a soft spot in my brain.

"He hurt you. Don't pretend that didn't happen."

"I have to!" I yell; the force makes me dizzy, and I fall back into the chair.

"Clarissa, be careful," he warns.

"I said I'm fine."

I bend at the waist to open the bottom drawer to reach for the box of forgotten phones, wallets, and keys. When I sit back up, he's right there beside me, his hand reaching out, touching my shoulder.

"Ahhhh!!" I yell. "What the fuck? Why did you scare me!"

He scowls. "I thought you werefalling."

"I was grabbing your phone. Isn't that what you came here for?" I slam the box of phones onto the table, and the top three phones fall onto the desk. Even without looking, I know his is there.

How?

I can smell it.

It smells like the person standing right next to me.

Strong, masculine, powerful.Sexy.

Fuck.

Patrick's slap must've really dislodged something in my brain.

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