Page 41 of Stranger to Love

“You should find someone else to drool over,” she said. Her voice was remarkably calm, dripping with a quiet, terrifying authority.

Ali hesitated, letting out a nervous, forced laugh, clearly assuming she was just some fiercely protective, platonic older friend. “Come on, Alex. I’ll buy you a birthday shot,” he said, flashing a desperate smile.

I felt Dr. Carter’s hand flex violently against my hip. She leaned back in, her lips brushing through the stray curls of my hair as she whispered, “Do you want him to leave?”

I didn’t even turn around. I just took a slow sip of my rum and nodded. Yes. I wanted him gone. He was ruining my night, and I was losing the battle to control my temper.

Dr. Carter sat up fully, her posture instantly radiating the terrifying, unassailable power she held in the lecture halls. She looked down at Ali and delivered a single, icy command.

“Leave.”

Before Ali could even process the word, my entire universe tilted.

Dr. Carter’s hand shot up from my waist, her fingers tangling firmly into the hair at the back of my head. She forced my head around, tilting my chin up and angling my neck back to completely expose the skin. Before a single coherent thought could form in my brain, her lips slammed into the side of my neck.

And she sucked. Hard.

Fuck me.

A violent, catastrophic wave of pure arousal and heat crashed through my lower abdomen. My body went entirely rigid. What the actual fuck was she doing? My fingers gripped my rum glass so tightly the glass threatened to shatter; my free hand shot up, clamping onto her upper arm, feeling the hard, toned muscle beneath her sleeve. I felt her teeth nibble lightly against the bruised skin, and a breathless, broken gasp escaped my throat before she finally pulled away.

I didn't know what her game was, but holy Christ, I wanted her to do it again.

She didn't even look at me. Her dark eyes remained locked on Ali, daring him to utter a single word. I couldn't tell you what his face had looked like, or if he even said anything before he left, because my brain was entirely fried. Maybe I’d had too much to drink. Maybe the vodka had caused a full-blown hallucination. Because in what fucking reality did Dr. Carter just purposefully bite a hickey into my neck in the middle of a crowded bar?

I stared at her, wide-eyed and breathing heavily, trying to anchor myself. The music was still blasting, people were laughing and drinking all around us, entirely oblivious to the fact that my entire world had just fundamentally shifted on its axis.

She let go of my head, smoothing down her black shirt before reaching for her whiskey glass. She downed the remaining amber liquid in one smooth swallow, looking down at me with an entirely innocent expression.

“Is it really your birthday today?” she asked, her voice perfectly conversational, as if she hadn't just obliterated every professional boundary in existence.

I swallowed hard, looking toward the lounge. Ali was gone. I looked back up at her, my voice barely a whisper over the music. “Tomorrow. The thirteenth.”

She gave a slow, measured nod and stood up from her stool, smoothing her tailored trousers.

“You have lectures tomorrow,” she said softly, her dark eyes holding mine one last time. “Don’t stay out too late, darling.”

And without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away.

I sat frozen, my eyes tracking her every step as she navigated the bar and glided out the front door. She moved with an impossible, unbothered grace, as if she had never rushed a day in her life—or perhaps the entire world just slowed down to accommodate her.

I reached up, my trembling fingers tracing the hot, stinging skin of my neck.

Fuck me. What the actual fuck just happened?

Chapter 10

Alex

I was profoundly glad I’d left the club when I did.

What I hadn’t realised until after Dr. Carter vanished out the door was that Mia had been heading straight toward the bar, having finally picked up on the fact that Ali was being a persistent prick. Instead, she’d stopped dead in her tracks, watching the entire spectacle unfold—Dr. Carter’s heavy hand clamped around my waist, her lips planted against my neck.

Mia had practically dragged me back to the booth, demanding a play-by-play of why my terrifying Economics lecturer had possessively marked me like a slice of territory. I couldn’t even give her an answer, because my own brain had entirely short-circuited. Fortunately, Anthony offered me a lift home when his shift ended, sparing me from playing a third wheel to Mia and Adrian for the rest of the night.

When my alarm blared the next morning, I didn't feel nearly as wrecked as I expected. I opted for a simple outfit: dark jeans, a black vest top, and an oversized, open flannel shirt. It wasn't exactly high business fashion, but my hair still held the loose, smoky curls from the night before, and a faint remnant of yesterday's makeup lingered around my eyes. I looked a little more deliberate than usual.

Leaning against the bathroom sink, I tilted my chin back and blinked hazily into the mirror.