Book III of UNC Series
While it's known that there are five stages of grief, did you know that there are also five stages of love?
Bailey Nicholson dreamed of finishing her Master's degree and settling in Boston while working alongside her boyfriend...
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I lean against the wall with my arms folded over my chest, and my ankle crossed over the other as I watch the scene play out. I had just turned the corner when I spotted Blondie and Cassie stop a few feet before me. I grit my jaw as I watch him slowly close in on her, and I patiently wait for her to hand him his own ass like I've seen numerous times before. But she remains mute, almost cowering and recoiling away.
Beads of sweat accumulate on her forehead as a stricken expression crosses her features. The blood in my veins simmers into an icy rage at her reaction.
She looks utterly powerless, and it's such a jarring sight. A possessiveness like I've never felt before surges through me when Elijah grabs her arm. Realizing she's mute for some inexplainable reason and won't retaliate, I step up off the wall and approach closer, "Am I interrupting?"
They whip their heads toward me. Blondie keeps her eyes on me, relief sags in her shoulders and her eyes blink close, exhaling upon noticing me. Her lashes fan across her cheekbones, and her skin flushes a deep red. Elijah takes a considerable step back. I don't miss the look of panic that washes across his face before he turns to Blondie and stares down at her with a deadpanned expression, which supposedly implies he's relaxed and collected.
But I can see clearly through his facade.
"No, not interrupting," Cassie clears his throat. I work my jaw when she reaches up to rub her arm, massaging her skin that blossoms with a tinge as blood rushes to the surface. He mutters something unintelligible under his breath before he steps away.
My gaze wanders after him, ensuring he doesn't stray too far. Instead of confronting him, my harsh, tense jaw eases as I turn my attention to Blondie.
"Is everything all right?" I soften my voice, stepping closer. I want to reach for her, but she nods, her lips pressed into a flat line as she averts her skittish gaze, "Yeah, just give me a second."
She breezes past me, barely brushing my shoulder as I inhale her smooth lavender scent, fighting the urge to follow after her to make sure she's okay. She disappears down the hall behind me, slamming a door open, and I wait for it to shut behind her before I rush off.
I see his back disappear around the corner and jog after him, "Yo, Cassie, wait up."
He turns, and his brows fly high on his forehead as he stumbles backwards, nearly slamming into the wall behind him. But he manages to hold his ground, sweeping a professional, unencumbered look over his muted features.
"Maverick," he crosses his arms over his crisp dress shirt, "What can I do for you? You missed a session this week."
I snort, "Yeah, that's not what I want to talk about."
He rolls his eyes, "Is this about my conversation with Ms. Nicholson? Listen, I don't know what she told you, but I was just having a civil—" I shove him back until he stumbles and collides into the white-bricked wall behind him.
