“Whatever you say.”
Still smirking, he sat back in his seat as the professor entered the auditorium, followed by a surge of students. 8 a.m. classes were the worst.
I couldn’t concentrate the entire class. It was like I was on high alert for everything Ian. All of it distracted me—his fingers on the keys, any slight shift he made in his seat. Even his damn aura tingled against my skin.
When class ended, he placed his hand on my lower back as we filed out of our row. The action was possessive but not obvious enough that anyone around us would know. He didn’t take his hand away until we were out of the lecture hall, and even then it was reluctantly. The small of my back instantly felt cold.
“I’m planning to talk to Bruce today,” he told me as we walked. “Bruce being my boss.”
“Right.”
Sensing my discomfort, he reached out and touched my shoulder, turned me to face him. “It’ll be all right. The RC position isn’t worth not being with you. Worst case scenario: they kick me out and I rent a sweet apartment. It’s not like I don’t have the cash.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sometimes it’s hard to feel sorry for you.”
“That’s the point. Don’t.”
“Hey, Alexis.”
I turned to see Daniel standing beside me, hands shoved casually in his pockets and blue eyes smiling. Daniel was in my poetry course and was cute in that boy-next-door kind of way. I was surprised he even knew my name—I’d maybe talked to him once or twice in class.
“Oh hey,” I responded.
Ian moved closer to me and crossed his arms, assessing Daniel coolly.
“How’s your poem for this week coming?” Daniel asked. “I really liked that one you presented last week. Just wanted to tell you that.” He shifted uncomfortably as if he had more to say but was considering whether or not it was a good idea. “You’re pretty good.”
“Thanks,” I said shyly. I’d never been good at accepting compliments.
“It was pretty intense,” he continued. “Where did you get the idea, or was it inspired from your own life?” He reddened a bit. “I don’t mean to pry or anything.”
Ian’s eyes narrowed on Daniel briefly before he looked at me, raised an eyebrow. “What’s this guy on about?”
Now I reddened. “Ian, this is Daniel. He’s in my poetry writing class.”
Ian snorted. “I’m not surprised.”
Daniel’s mouth popped open. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s talking about the poem I was picked to present.” I quickly began filling Ian in before the inevitable fight could begin. “On Friday.”
“Oh yeah? And what was it about?”
I hesitated. “Love.”
“But not a traditional love.” Daniel turned to Ian, his voice taking on a tone of superiority. “An intense and perhaps unhealthy addiction to another person. You’d have to read it to understand.”
Ian didn’t look impressed.
“However the guy sounds dangerous and fucked up,” Daniel added as if by an afterthought. “I got the impression she knows she should stay away from him but she’s trapped by her feelings and too far gone. She’s headed down a dark road.”
“Um that’s not really what it was about,” I said, peeking nervously at Ian. “It’s just all s
o new for her and he is more experienced and she doesn’t know what to expect. It was supposed to feel real. Like song lyrics.”
Ian draped an arm over my shoulders, his eyes still on Daniel. “Sounds like you missed the intention of the poem, dude.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened. “I suppose that’s partly why I love poetry: we can read our own meaning into it. At any rate, nice talking to you, Alexis.”