Page 35 of Break My Rules

“Excellent news,” Abernathy smiles. “Please, send our best, and tell Saint I’ll have a bottle of his favorite scotch waiting on his return.”

“I will.”

I sink a little lower in my seat, catching more glances from the other students. Abernathy restarts the discussion. I’m able to keep a low profile for the rest of the tutorial, and only offer an occasional half-baked comment, but the moment the session ends, and we all head downstairs to the quad, I’m suddenly the center of attention again.

“Must be nice,” one of my classmates comments, sarcastically. She’s perky and polished and has ‘straight-A student’ written all over her. “Having a Duke on-call to excuse your absence.”

“Some of us don’t have friends in high places to ring and get us off the hook,” another pipes up with a sneer. He’s an athlete type, who always likes to have the last word. “I should try that, asking for special favors the next time I’m late with an essay.”

“Sorry, Professor, I couldn’t do the assigned reading, but look, I brought a note from my boyfriend!”

They laugh meanly, and coming after Jia’s little bitch-fest, something in me snaps. “I’m sorry, are we back in high school?” I demand, looking at them in turn. “Because I got confused, with all this juvenile gossiping. Why don’t you grow up and focus on your own lives, and I’ll get on with mine?”

There are raised eyebrows and surprised looks, but nobody seems ruffled by my outburst.

“It’s your round at the bar, Tarquin,” the girl says, without skipping a beat. “Jules says they’re screeningBlackaddertonight in the JCR, and we have the bop tomorrow, too…”

The group moves off, chatting about upcoming social plans, and laughing over in-jokes like they’ve known each other for years.

I feel a wistful pang, watching them go. Sure, they’re acting like brats, but that’s because they can be. I remember my college experience, the first time around. The parties, and late nights, and blissful freedom of it all. Oxford may be a pressure cooker, but it’s still a carefree taste of adult life for these kids. They don’t have the same burden as I do, pressing down on their shoulders.

They couldn’t imagine that I’m on this dark mission that I’ve sworn to pursue, no matter the cost.

Wren.

With Sebastian Wolfe crossed off my list of suspects, I’m getting closer to the real culprit, and I know, it won’t be long until I have the answers my sister deserves. Let my classmates and Jia score cheap points bitching about my special treatment. I have more important things on my mind.

I head backto Saint’s place, stopping to pick up some groceries from the shop on the corner, before letting myself into the house. It’s quiet here without him, and I’m surprised to find myself missing him more with each passing day, despite our frequent calls and texts.

‘How’s your new bestie, Harold?’ I message, as I unpack the milk and eggs.

Saint replies with an emoji.‘We’re bonding over profit/loss statements. Was class OK?’

‘Fine,’ I lie.

I feel worn out by all the drama, even though I’ve done nothing but sit at a desk for days, so I decide to pour myself a glass of wine and go upstairs to take a relaxing bath. I set the lights on low, pour half a bottle of some expensive lavender oils into the massive claw-foot tub, and soon, the bathroom is filled with fragrant steam.

I strip off my clothes and sink into the hot water with a sigh.

Ahhh.

It feels amazing against my bare skin, and I luxuriate in the bubbles, letting my mind wander.

And my hands…

I stroke over my wet skin, remembering the last time I was in this tub—with Saint. He climbed in with me fully clothed, not caring that he was getting totally drenched. I sigh in pleasure, recalling the feel of his mouth on my neck… His hands sliding over my breasts…

I’m just dipping my fingers between my thighs when my cellphone sounds, vibrating on the little stool beside the tub. It’s the man himself.

“Can you sense when I’m naked, and thinking about you?” I answer huskily, setting the phone to speaker and placing it down again.

Saint’s chuckle is low and throaty. “What would you do if I was on speakerphone right now?”

“I’d say hello to Harold,” I reply, smiling.

He laughs. “No Harold. We finally called it a night at the office. Now I’m home. Alone. Wishing I was there with you.”

“I wish you were here, too. I’m taking a bubble bath…” I tell him, flirty.

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