All I want is one damn drop.
Just one.
I drag a hand through my hair before pushing through the glass door of the Roasted Bean and taking my place in line. To kill time, I slip my phone from my back pocket and contemplate firing off another text to Elle. My fingers hover over the keyboard before I blow out a steady breath and stop myself. I need a clean break from her, and this is it. I can’t afford to back peddle.
When someone calls out my name from across the small shop, I glance up before automatically lifting my hand to return the greeting. As the guy shifts to talk with someone else, I catch a glimpse of long dark hair. Everything inside me goes on high alert as I crane my neck to get a better look at a girl who bears a striking resemblance to Elle as she disappears behind a bunch of people standing around, enjoying their drinks.
I almost wince.
What the hell am I doing?
This seriously needs to stop. I’m more out of control than I realized.
Even as I tell myself not to do it, I step out of line and maneuver my way through the crowd until I have an unobstructed view of the worn couch. My feet grind to a halt. It wasn’t my imagination at all. Elle is actually here. It takes a moment to realize she isn’t alone. I blink before narrowing my eyes.
Who the hell is the old dude sitting next to her?
All right, so maybe he’s not exactly a relic. From what I can see, he’s probably in his mid-thirties. But still...that’s too damn old for Elle. Jealousy bubbles up inside me like a geyser, overtaking all rational thought. Without considering the ramifications of my actions, I stalk closer, swallowing up the distance between us before pushing some random guy out of the way.
“Watch it!” he grumbles as his coffee sloshes over the rim of his cup.
I mutter an apology before arriving at the couch and clearing my throat. When neither bothers to glance up, I snap, “Hey.”
It’s like the bubble they’ve been encapsulated in pops as both of their heads jerk up and two sets of eyes land on me. My gaze bounces from Elle to the guy sitting entirely too close to her for comfort. It takes every ounce of self-control not to grab him by the shirtfront and yank him to his feet. My guess is that we’re roughly the same height, although my shoulders are broader and I’m more muscular. I probably outweigh him by a solid forty pounds. The odds are stacked in my favor if it comes to blows. And with the way I’m feeling, that’s exactly the direction this confrontation is headed in.
“Carson.” An uncomfortable silence ensues. “What are you doing here?”
“Grabbing a coffee before my next class,” I say tersely, firing back with my own question. “What about you?”
Before she can respond, the interloper glances at his expensive watch and rises to his feet. It’s just as I suspected—we’re roughly the same height. I shift my stance, squaring up.
“I’d better get going. I’ll see you in class, Elle.”
He gives me a polite smile before picking up his briefcase and walking away. I glare, torn between following the guy and having a private word with him or staying at Elle’s side. The need to stick close to her wins out. Once the door slams closed behind him, my gaze slices back to Elle.
I jerk a thumb toward the entrance. “Who was that?” Better question—why were they together?
I’m almost taken aback by the frostiness that enters both her eyes and tone. I don’t think she’s ever looked at me like that.
“Dr. Holloway, my stats professor.”
My attention deviates to him again as he walks past the picture window that stretches across the front of the shop. He glances at her and then me. We hold each other’s gazes for a second or two. What I see in his eyes is enough to have the possessiveness I’ve always felt where Elle is concerned roaring back to life.
Professor or not, do I think he wants her?
You bet your damn ass I do.
What guy in his right mind wouldn’t?
She’s absolutely gorgeous in that untouched, pristine kind of way. She has all of this barely contained energy radiating off her where life is concerned. Especially for the things she’s passionate about. It’s enough to make a man want to be the first one to dirty her up. To channel all that untapped passion into—
Fuck.
“You need to stay away from him,” I growl, hands tightening at my sides.
Her brows pinch together as she stares at me for a long moment before shoving her books into her bag and rising gracefully to her feet. She tips her head back to hold my gaze. “That would be difficult to do, given the fact that he’s my professor. I’m not sure what you think was going on, but he was helping me with homework. That’s it.”