Page 60 of Dead Girls Don’t Forget

“Impossible. I need details. Scale of one to ten, how good was it?”

I gave her a flat look.

She leaned in. “At least tell me if he’s as big as he looks.”

“Cassidy.”

“What? It’s a valid question.” She grinned. “Come on. One tiny crumb. Did he take you to the cult compound? Was there chanting? Robes?”

I exhaled. “No cult. No chanting. And that’s all you’re getting.”

She slumped back dramatically. “You’re killing me. I live vicariously through you now.”

“Tragic.”

An hour later, I stepped out of Criminal Profiling with my notebook tucked under my arm and my mind still turning over the lecture. The hallway was a press of students moving in both directions. I took the corner without checking and drove straight into a solid chest. My books and notes scattered across the floor.

The wolf I had walked into scowled down at me, already angry.

“The fuck? Watch where you’re—”

His voice died mid-sentence. His eyes flicked over my shoulder and every bit of color drained from his face.

A low, dangerous growl rolled out from behind me.

“Give her the fucking books. Now.”

The wolf dropped into a crouch immediately, hands scrambling to gather my scattered notes and notebook.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not looking up. “Didn’t see you there.”

His two friends stood frozen beside him, suddenly very interested in the floor.

I took the stack of books from his hands without a word. The three of them backed away quickly and disappeared down the hall.

I turned.

Jackson was still staring down the hall, body wound tight, jaw locked, eyes dark with the kind of fury that didn’t burn out fast. He wanted to go after them. I could feel it.

The last thing I needed was him breaking someone's nose over a hallway collision.

I reached out and threaded my fingers through his.

He tensed for a second, then let out a slow breath. His grip tightened around mine, but he stayed put.

A few feet away, on the edge of the crowd, Lia stood with books clutched to her chest. Her eyes dropped to our joined hands, then flicked up to my face. She managed a tight, brittle smile that didn’t reach her eyes before turning sharply and disappearing into the lecture hall.

I let go of his hand. When I looked back at Jackson, he was already watching me.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I was fine until you tried to terrorize half the hallway.”

His jaw flexed. “He ran into you.”

“I ran into him,” I corrected.

“He still hit you,” he said, like the distinction didn’t matter.