Page 52 of Unwritten Rules

I’m held so deeply in her thrall that I couldn’t break this invisible tether between us even if the building came crashing down around us.

And, as though I’ve somehow managed to make the thought a reality, the building’s fire alarm begins to sound, jolting everyone and everything back to reality with a bang.

Students grab their possessions and hastily file out in a mass exodus, their chatter ringing in my ears.

Mila is the one to finally tear her eyes from mine when Percy shakes her shoulder, and the Leto-wannabe with another dark-haired companion shows up out of nowhere to lead both girls from the classroom, leaving me to my unwanted thoughts.

CHAPTER 16

MILA

My mind is racing, all manner of thoughts flying around my head with no real rhyme or reason to any of them except one resounding affirmation playing on repeat.

He wants you. He wants you. He wants you.

Yes, I’d felt his hard-on at The Nook on Friday, but that was questionable. Like, maybe he’d needed to use the bathroom...

But that look in his eyes was undeniable.

I’ve seen that look in other men’s eyes before.

I’ve seen it many times, and though flattering, it’s never interested me. Likewise, being desired sexually by the opposite sex has never been something I’ve sought, intentionally or otherwise.

But Nathaniel Hawthorne giving me some serious fuck-me eyes across the classroom – yeah, that right there? That’s something that made my skin tingle and my body scream for his touch so loudly I was shocked the whole room couldn’t hear it.

When my two new friends had broken the spell – Cal whispering in my ear to inform me that he and Des had pulled the emergency fire alarm when he’d intuitively twigged what was going on at that podium – I left the room in a daze.

I bid Cal farewell, Percy and Desmond having already disappeared amongst the crowd, only to spend the next half hour strolling aimlessly before grabbing a coffee and attempting to research a paper for History of the English Language.

It’s a fruitless effort, but it kills time all the same.

I return to the staff car park a couple of minutes before 5 p.m., hoping to spot Roland, but instead finding Nate waiting behind the wheel of his SUV.

Lord have mercy. He’s hot as sin.

Having divested himself of that cardigan that should make him look like a grandfather, yet makes him look like he’s walked straight into every girl’s wet dream, he’s rolled his shirtsleeves up, displaying his sexy-as-fuck forearms.

Els says it best. Arm porn!

After mumbling a quiet “Hi,” whilst drooling internally, I slip into the passenger seat, pull out my phone, and pretend to scroll mindlessly, trying my best not to squirm in my seat.

Nate is silent beside me in the driver’s seat as his G-class devours the road back to Hawthorne House. The tension is bristling between us, goosebumps pebbling across my skin, and my stomach churns with anxiety.

We’re no more than ten minutes from the estate when I simply can’t bear it any longer.

“Can we please talk about it?”

“About what, Mila?”

His voice is monotone, his eyes not budging from the road, where the countryside is flying past at breakneck speed. His hand flexes, veins popping along his forearm from the force with which he’s gripping the steering wheel.

I grit my teeth at his forced insensitivity but try again.

“Nate, have you forgotten who you’re trying to fool? I know you. What the hell was that all about in class? I was just trying to—”

He snorts coldly, side-eyeing me for a split second before his eyes return to the road and the vehicle picks up speed. “You tell me what it was about, littlest DeMarco. You’re the one spouting on about the forever kind of love, about tasting ecstasy and setting fire to the fucking world.”

His fingers flex on the wheel, and his nostrils flare.