5. Chapter 5

Chapter five

Raven

" S o, you're telling me, a smoking hot stranger on a motorcycle just planted one on you in the middle of downtown? Then rocked your world before sneaking out in the early hours of the morning?" Presley asks as we maneuver through the swarm of bodies crowding the courtyard of Stone Crest University. I swear she knew almost every student we passed, engaging in random conversation that was entirely unnecessary. Where I preferred the quiet isolation of my room, Presley was a social butterfly. She was on every committee, board, or charity council in town and had an array of colors she doused herself in daily. Even wearing the signature navy plaid skirt and polo that was required by the university, she would add her own flair. She's not someone I would have just walked up to and sparked up a friendship with, but we were living together and shared a class, and she wasn't a bad person to have around. She's forced me to enter the world of living again and I low key love her for it. Some days I hate her.

Some days she makes me miss Bethany. The times we'd spend sitting next to each other, watching movies and not saying a word. When it was bad at home. When my father was doing his normal routine of crossing lines, Bethany kept me sane. She grounded me. Her home life wasn't like mine, but in its own way it made her detach as well.

I had just finished spilling the story of my encounter last night. Locke and I had made it into the apartment and into my room without interruption, but at breakfast, she clearly wasn't letting my mysterious biker go, considering the quote "animalistic" noises she heard coming from my room. I can't explain what transpired last night. I'm not a one night stand kind of girl on a regular basis and taking someone home that I just met wasn't a normal occurrence either. The combination of his protective nature, my inability to shake my funk for the last three months, and the adrenaline of his kiss. Mixed together it concocted something neither of us was able to ignore. Plain sexual attraction.

My cheeks practically flame as I let flashes of last night play across my brain. The way he consumed me. kissed me. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he managed to do it to me five times.

When I almost run into a girl pausing to reapply her lip gloss, I crash back to reality. He was gone when I woke up. Nothing but his scent lingered. Not his number. A full name. Even a business card would have sufficed.

"It wasn't a nineties rom com moment." I snort. "Don't romanticize it. He was helping me out. Just sold the story so I didn't end up on dateline."

"Oh, just a good Samaritan with his tongue down your throat that gave you five orgasms," she mocks. "Don't worry you won't end up on Dateline. The one's that die always light up a room."

A laugh bubbles up my throat, as she elbows me with a cackle. "You said you like honest."

"You're right. Beside we both know it would be you on Dateline."

She shrugs a shoulder. "You're probably right. I can barely make it up a flight of stairs without an asthma attack. I'd be easy prey."

I frown at the thought of the words I'm about to spew, but quickly recover. I don't get attached. Don't see the point. "I'll probably never even see the man again anyway."

I veer off to my left. "Go ahead. I have to use the restroom."

My next class is all the way across campus. Mythology and Cultural studies. It wasn't something I had planned on taking, but I needed another class, and it had an opening. Not taking a full semester was not up to Arthur Cunningham's expectations. I cinch the strap of my bag up onto my shoulder as I round the corner of the English hallway. My attention gets pulled to a girl who's standing in front of another, loudly accusing her of sleeping with her boyfriend. Seriously? It's day one.

One more step and my chest collides with something unexpectedly firm, sending me flying backwards, causing my book bag to go crashing to the ground. A palm catches my upper arm before I have the chance to join my books that are now scattered along the hardwood.

"Shit, sorry."

"It's fine." I barely glance up to see the figure who steadies me.

"You new?" He asks. "Haven't seen you before."

I crouch down and slide one of my books into my bag. "Yep."

He crouches down next to me, snatching up the book for my next class. "Mythology."

He holds the book out, and I meet his eyes. He's cute, in a boy next door sort of way. Clean haircut, warm brown eyes, and a small smile. Clearly not my type. I slide the last book inside of my bag as we both push to our feet.

"I took that class last year. Work load isn't too hard. The professor can be a bit of a moody asshole, but other than that as long as you take notes and get your stuff in on time, you're good." He shrugs.

"Thanks."

"Titus." He offers a hand.

"Raven." I take it, giving it a quick shake.

"You better get going. He hates tardiness." He hikes his thumb over his shoulder. "Cut through the science building. It's quicker."

I right my bag again and step around him, and wave.

"See you around," he calls out but, I'm already halfway down the hall.

Turns out Titus was right. The science building was quicker, but I took a wrong turn, and it cost me an extra five minutes which is why I'm yanking open the door to class, late. Surely he can cut some slack on the first day, if not, do I really care? Hard no.

The hushed room is full as I let the door shut behind me. My hopes of slipping in undetected are expunged when the loud thud causes every head to turn and the man standing at the chalkboard with his back to me to freeze mid sentence.

My breath lodges in my throat as judging eyes pry through my skin. I can feel my cheeks heat as I scan for an open seat. Not many remain, but a hand waves form the back row down to my left.

Presley.

I shuffle down, sliding into the seat next to her on the end of the aisle. The professor has yet to move. His hand is frozen on the piece of chalk he's writing with, and his back is still towards the class. He hasn't spoken.

My bag drops next to my feet as I pull out my book and spiral. Flipping open the spiral, I fold it, revealing a blank page and click my pen open, at least giving the illusion I'm taking notes and I'm not completely irresponsible.

Ever so slowly, he places the chalk down and turns to face us.

Oh my…….

Mid thirties. Stout. Wide, broad shoulders, dirty blonde hair that's longer on top that sweeps down almost covering a pair of golden, caramel eyes.

Familiar caramel eyes. Caramel eyes that peered into mine while he was balls deep inside of me less than eight hours ago.

His eyes meet mine, sending another shot of warmth through my body, straight down to my painted black toenails. I glance away, then back, trying to reconcile that my professor who's actively glaring at me, is also the same man who shared my bed with me last night.

"Let me be clear."

My eyes snap to the rasp that just fell from his lips. His voice. It demands attention, just like last night, and right now his undivided attention is on me. Golden eyes sparkle as he pauses his announcement.

"Tardiness will not be tolerated," he practically snarls. "If you're going to be late, don't bother coming at all." He keeps his narrowed eyes on me, causing every inch of skin on my body to pebble in goose bumps.

He almost looks angry that I'm here. Like I had any idea who he was. Like I had any idea he was a mythology professor. He was on a motorcycle for fucks sakes.

He's not calling me out directly, but everyone in this room knows he's talking to me. I could break the eye contact, but frankly I've grown tired of men who need to be knocked down a peg. So instead of backing down, I stare straight back, clicking my pen closed. My blood boils as I reach for my bag, shoving the spiral back inside and push to my feet.

"What are you doing?" Presley whispers.

With my bag on my shoulder, I step out from the aisle. His eyes remain angry as I slowly walk backwards to the door. His nostrils flare when I reach behind me, gripping onto the lever. He's challenging me, and he may not know it, but he picked the wrong girl. I don't have anything to lose at this point. With the room still silent, I shove open the door and strut out, leaving a brooding professor behind.