Page 5 of He Who Haunts Me

High school teachers lied, honestly. The number of times I’d heard, “Your college professor won’t tolerate this behavior,” had driven my worries about college through the roof. The reality was our professors didn’t care about our behavior or habits. I was pretty sure most of my professors wouldn’t have recognized me outside of class. I’d learned early on that the biggest difference between high school and college was the concept of responsibility. No one was going to instruct me when and where, or for how long. That weight was on my shoulders, and it was nearly overwhelming. All my professors wanted were passing scores.

Hell, some teachers said they didn’t even care if we showed up day-to-day, just to make it to the exam and pass.

If only.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.Buzz. Then, two more messages came through. Three messages in an hour I could understand, but three in under a minute?

Fucking irritating.

I didn’t need to glance at the screen to know it was Brent. Somewhere between invitation and acceptance, he had construed a different idea of the parameters of our…not a relationship. I wouldn’t have classified us as friends, but boundaries were subjective for some.

He was studying. I was studying. Three emails within the minute that had nothing to do with academics went beyond a study companion protocol, so I didn’t bother taking my phone out of my pocket.

I walked through the open library doors, leaving the throng of students in the hallway and hopefully working to abate the headache that was lodging in my cranium.

The air stirred and goosebumps pricked my skin. I looked up, knowing the universe truly had it out for me. Brent was sitting with Melody.Why is he already here?My presence had gone unnoticed. If I played it right, I could dash into the history section before he turned around.

But of course, because the universe was picking on me today, Melody had to look up. She started waving and had a full grin on display.

It was the lowest moment of my college career because instead of waving back, I hit the floor. I hid behind random shelves and crawled along the wall. As I crept, I leaned up to check each door for an unlocked handle.

Locked, dammit.I tried the next one, my knees stinging from the carpet.Also locked.

As I crawled, I thought about what would be worse than the inevitable conversation with Melody where I’d have to explain why I’d dropped to the floor. If I couldn’t find somewhere to hide, Brent would find me. That conversation would be so much worse. Luck seemingly running out, I pulled hard on the third silver handle and felt the door give.

Finally!

Without a second thought, I shuffled on my hands and knees and backed into the small room. Through the cracked door, I watched for any signs of Brent and Melody. I heard them talking. I closed the door. Crawling farther back, my boot hit something metal in the center of the closet. I turned slowly, only now silently questioning why the room would be unlocked and lit.

I took in the black jeans and various metal pieces glimmering against the denim. Then, I looked up into a face full of smoke.

Jai. I inhaled absentmindedly. He was sitting on a metal chair that looked like it was made for a kindergartner in the middle of a cleaning supply closet. I had cornered myself nearly in his lap—caged between his powerful, long legs.

His face was full of questions, but he was silent and still. His mouth was slightly parted, and the tip of his vape rested in the air just above the curve of his bottom lip.

What is happening?

His mouth opened wider as footsteps traveled across the carpet outside of the door.

I popped up fully on my knees and covered his mouth with my hand. I soundlessly shook my head as Brent’s and Melody’s voices grew closer.

Leaning into the press of my hand, his long arm reached past us and flicked the lock into place.

Brent’s and Melody’s voices faded.

Confusion had melted into curiosity. This was the closest we’d ever been.Except for the day I got pushed into his locker.

His green eyes flicked down, and when mine followed, I realized my next mistake. I had his thigh in a death grip for support. Instead of brushing it away, his hand closed over mine and trapped it.

I had him and he had me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered when I could no longer hear them outside. “I’m a coward.”

His mouth twitched under my hand into what I assumed was a smirk.

“Why are you in here?” I questioned further

His gaze moved down his nose to my hand that still obstructed his mouth. I pulled my hand away from his face much slower than necessary, letting my fingers trail over his lips.