♡AN ENEMIES-TO-LOVERS ROMANCE♡
Attending the same college is the only thing Sebastian Hutches and Tara Van Doren have in common.
To Sebastian, Tara is a rich, spoiled girl, obsessed with her looks and status.
To Tara, Sebastian is a rude, arrogant...
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I've never been as nervous about Ethics as I am this morning. I tossed and turned in bed all night and checked on Bast twice to make sure he wasn't sick. At barely seven a.m., I slipped out of the apartment and went to the gym for an extra-long workout so I wouldn't run into him.
Will he even turn up? His hangover will be brutal, and he might stay in bed until lunchtime. Believing that is better than thinking about the inevitable awkwardness if I do see him.
Dr. Garcia takes his place behind the lectern, and the volume of the chatter drops to a barely audible murmur of those eager to catch up with their friends.
I open the notebook and write the date in the top right corner. The door screeches, and my attention rivets on the doorway.
Bast strolls into the classroom and says something to Dr. Garcia, who nods and proceeds to announce the topic of today's lecture.
I anchor my gaze to him, but the scent of Bast’s body wash travels over to me, and goosebumps spray over my skin.
“Hi,” Sebastian whispers.
I throw a look his way and refocus on my notes. “Hey.”
His backpack lands on the floor with a thud. Pens clatter against the fold-over desk, and the chair on my left groans under Bast’s weight as he sits.
Dr. Garcia points a hand toward the slide on the screen, but the lines I read tell me nothing.
I prop my elbow on the desk and press a palm to my forehead.
Bast tugs at my notebook. I slide it toward him to show I wrote nothing, but he doesn’t seem to need my notes — a pencil is in his hand, and my breath snags in my throat when he traces the first line.
One confident stroke after another, the sketch begins to take shape. Rocks jut out of the ocean, and waves crash against a lighthouse. After shading one side of it, Bast grabs the pen I gave him.
His hand hovers over the page. I doubt he’s going to write anything at all, but the sharp tip presses against the paper, and black ink bleeds onto it, forming the words.
I am sorry.
♡♡♡
Sitting through the rest of the lecture with Bast by my side is torture. As soon as Dr. Garcia dismisses us, I shove my notebook into my purse and bolt out of the lecture hall.
Missing classes wasn't in my plans, but as I leave the Humanities Building, it seems to be the best decision I could’ve made.
I wrap my arms around myself and set out for the parking lot, dodging clusters of students I encounter on my way. Once in the comfort of my Maserati, I crank the engine. It rumbles to life, and I brace myself for the long drive.
I needed to stop by my father’s house anyway, just later. He won’t be home, but Cara will, and the thought of seeing her warms me.
The Van Doren mansion isn’t my first stop, though. Forty minutes later, I park next to the dilapidated fence and get out of the vehicle.
