Page 40 of Lessons in Cruelty

Professor Rooke is coming down the stairs, his satchel slung over one shoulder, his phone in his hand. There’s a deep frown on his face, like he doesn’t like what he’s looking at.

Oh, God. If he spots me, he’s going to chew me out for missing his lesson.

I don’t need that.

My bravery is already evaporating now that I’m inside these halls.

Run, Haven.

Fucking run.

Chapter 12

Kai

Fuuuck, my head hurts. I should’ve stayed at the frat house, where there’s unlimited painkillers, closed shades, and soft bedding. But Rooke made his standards crystal clear when I applied to be his TA.

He expects a hundred-and-ten percent from his students, but demands two-fifty from me. Which didn’t scare me back when I took the job, but things have changed since then.

I need Rooke as much as he needs me.

Maybe even more.

So I dragged myself to class, and I tried to look like I wasn’t dying inside. I think he bought it, but it’s always hard to tell what’s going on in Rooke’s head.

Fuck, I’m regretting it though.

The beers were fine. I can drink plenty of those and be a-okay, but I didn’t stop there. Whiskey joined the party, and that’s when shit got real.

One shot, two shots, four.

But I still wasn’t drunk enough to drown out Haven’s puppy eyes.

Could still taste her skin from when I licked that apple pie off her face. Sweet and salty and so fucking addictive I can’t stop thinking about pinning her down to find out what the rest of her tastes like.

I won’t lie, it’s something I’ve thought about way too many times in my life.

And the sound of her whimpering like an injured animal? I’ve heard that too before.

Way, way too many times.

Now I’m recovering in the only quiet, dimly lit place on this campus—the library—while I wait for today’s second round of painkillers and my energy drink to kick in.

Most students not in class are outside, soaking up the dregs of sunlight struggling through the thin clouds. There’s a handful of nerds inside with me, but most only stay long enough to find and check out whatever book they’d been after before leaving.

I’m in one of the little alcoves dotted about the place. Most are beside windows, but some have only a moody painting for decoration and a green study lamp embedded on the table for light. I’m in one of those, but I turned my light off, because I’m as photosensitive as a fucking vampire today. I’d even be wearing my shades inside like a douchebag…but I forgot them in the lecture hall.

I groan at the thought of having to walk back to the frat house without my sunglasses. Maybe there will be denser cloud cover by then. Looks like the rains are coming early this year.

“…let me see…yeah, right over there. Should be a charging station just under that desk.”

Jesus Christ, who the fuck is disturbing my peace?

I’m lying down on the curved, cushioned bench, so all it takes is rolling my head to the side to glimpse a pair of legs walking past nearby. A floral-print dress belonging to the librarian. Someone follows close behind in faded jeans. All I can see is a section of their thighs and ass, and despite how I’m feeling, I purse my lips with appreciation.

That’s a good-looking ass, even in a pair of shapeless jeans.

“That’ll be great, thanks.”