His tone grates, and for a moment, my brain goes stubbornly blank—irritation drowning out whatever he’s saying. But then he takes the pencil from my fingers, his hand brushing mine with deliberate possession, and works through one problem. Then another. I see it, the shortcut. Efficient. Clever. Infuriatingly useful.
I snatch the pencil back with a sneer. “Thanks,” I mutter. “I need water. And a stretch.”
When Tade leans in to whisper something aboutThetabusiness, Aiden’s attention shifts enough for me to slip from his lap. I raise my arms like it’s no big deal, wander a few paces away, though his eyes track me—sharp, warning—to not push the boundary too far.
Around the corner, a water fountain hums. I lean down, sip until the metal tang is gone, then wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. A shadow eclipses the light. Expecting my keeper, I roll my eyes.
Except it’s not him.
The guy in front of me is rail-thin, milk-chocolate hair cast in an artfully careless wave, clothes cut sharp enough to nick a finger. And a wallet. But it’s his eyes that make me pause—ringed dark, like he hasn’t slept since the semester started. His scowl looks like it’s been living on his face for years.
“Oh.” My pulse hiccups. “Excuse me.”
He shifts his weight and uses his body to block my exit. “You bitch.”
My eyebrows jump. “Who the fuck are you?”
“You got my friend drunk and killed him.”
My mind rifles through enemies like a deck of cards. “I don’t know?—”
“Julien was nothing but kind. A great man. And you gave him all that alcohol.” His voice scrapes like gravel. “Yeah…bitch. He told me about you.”
I’m shaking my head before he can finish. “I don’t knowwhatyou’re talking about.”
“Ashlyn Donovan, right?”
“You’re talking about Julien Ellery? Who areyou?”
His figure blocks me in, but I feel like one knee to his groin, and he’ll go tumbling down. Besides, my Doberman of a man is right around the corner.
“Rowan. His friend.”
“Well,Rowan. He never mentioned you. And I didn’t give him any alcohol.”
“Sure you didn’t?—”
Aiden’s presence drops over us like a storm front, his face a darkened glower, sinew flexing under his fitted black T-shirt. Warmth pools low in my stomach at the sight of him.
When I glance back to wish Rowan luck at surviving the next thirty seconds, he’s already vanished.
seventeen
The first fullweek of our month together goes according to my plan. Wake up with a blowjob from my pet,sans spicy mint. Shove her into the next room so I can get my routine in. Drive to classes. Eat lunch. Study in the library.
Until a snag on Friday has my teeth grinding. Her extra interior design lab is running late. And Ihatewaiting. Especially for her. The girl who shattered my heart.
Thumbs on my phone, I type up emails and assignments while pacing the hall outside her class. Every few seconds, I get distracted, watching her gab with the girls at her table through the glass in the door.She’s smiling. Happy.
Like it means nothing to her that she destroyed me.
I drag my eyes off her glowing face for long enough to finish a message to the brothers—reminding them to wipe their coke lines off the hot tub edge unless they want another bird corpse collection.
Then, I finalize the details of mine and my sister’s plan to eradicate my appointment. Okay, she wants to end thepresident.
I just want to be rid of Hailey Twinston.
Either way,someonewon’t survive the month.