“Why are you helping me?” I ask quietly.
He blinks and softens slightly. “Do I need a reason to want to keep you safe?”
“I’d like to know, please. You said you don’t tolerate abusive men.”
His gaze shutters. His expression doesn’t change, and he doesn’t so much as shift in his seat. But he’s withdrawn from me somehow.
I lean toward him, chasing our invisible connection. The loss makes my chest ache.
It’s completely unreasonable.
His white knight behavior is messing with my head. It’s making all of my weakest instincts swoon. It would be so much easier to lean on him for support.
His offer of protection is terribly tempting, and I no longer want to fight it.
I force myself to admit, “You were right. I’m not good at accepting help. I need to understand why you’re here when I’ve tried to push you away.”
Some of the tension in his jaw eases. “My father was not a good man. Because of his sins, I ended up in a situation where I had to fend for myself. I saw what it takes to survive—and what some men are willing to do for their own selfish ends.”
His eyes sharpen on mine again. My breath catches.
“You are innocent. You don’t deserve to be terrorized. This stalker wants you for himself, and he doesn’t mind scaring you if that’s what it takes to have you.”
“You’re wrong,” I counter. “He doesn’t want me. Not really. He wants the control. He wants to make himself feel powerful by making me feel powerless. He’s a sick fuck, and no matter what he does, he’ll neverhave me.”
Rand’s eyes flare, an enigmatic tick in his expression that I don’t fully understand.
“I won’t let anyone harm you, Lena,” he promises.
I want to ask him more about his father and the situation that forced him to see the worst of humanity.
But that would be far too intimate, and it would probably be painful for him. He clearly suffered because of his dad. I won’t force him to make vulnerable confessions just to satisfy my own curiosity.
“Thank you,” I say instead. “If you think your friend can trace my stalker’s messages, I’d be grateful for their help.”
“Good.” The way he rumbles that single word makes my belly flip.
I ease back a bit. I’ve been completely swept up in him, and I’ve allowed myself to get far too close to my professor. Anyone could see us together and get the wrong impression.
“I should go home,” I assert. “I need to study for next week’s classes.”
A small frown ghosts around his mouth.
“What you need is rest,” he counters. “Give yourself the day off. You’ve been through a lot. You should get some sleep.”
Reflexively, I smooth my hair back into my high ponytail. I probably look like a mess. I barely slept last night, haunted by nightmares about Brandon’s and Rich’s deaths.
Exhaustion settles into my bones. I need a long bath with the comfort of my newest romance novel. If I try to study, I doubt I’ll retain any information.
“Okay,” I agree. “I’ll take the day off.”
He tips his head in approval. I long for him to saygoodagain in that lightly accented voice. I like it far too much.
He gathers up his papers and puts them back in his satchel. I take the last bite of my sandwich and drain the glass of water.
I’m not shaking anymore. Rand was right about the need for protein and hydration.
I’m too tired to be annoyed at his controlling actions. I feel better because of them, so staying prickly about it is stupid.