His eyes narrow.
“What?”
“You assumed I was lying when I said my boyfriend was coming.”
The classroom door opens.
Both of us turn.
And suddenly my heart leaps into my throat.
Because standing there—broad shoulders filling the doorway, black shirt stretched over muscle, dark eyes absolutely lethal—is Kai.
My Kai.
And he’s ten minutes early.
His hazelnut gaze finds me first.
Always me.
Checking.
Assessing.
Making sure I'm safe.
His eyes drop to my wrist.
To the spilled coffee.
To the mess on my desk.
Then they land on Joel Jonas.
And I have never seen a human being go so cold.
“Firecracker, you good?”
His voice is calm.
Terrifyingly calm.
I swallow.
“Yes, Kai. I'm good.”
He nods once.
Steps inside.
And somehow the entire room changes.
Because Joel Jonas might have money.
He might have power.
But Kai Montego?