“I thought we were meeting tomorrow,” I say.
“Change of plan.” He turns his gaze back to the desk and screws the top back on up a jar of AnalGlide. “I want you to report to my house on Sunday at noon for lunch.”
“Are you making a roast?” I ask, my eyes narrowed.
He puts the jar back into the desk, slides it shut, and meets my eyes again. “Yes.”
Butterflies take flight in my stomach. “Um… Alright.”
The barest hint of a smile appears on his lips, making my heart flutter. But before I can enjoy the expression, he shoos me away. I pick up my book bag and back toward the door.
His idea of Sunday lunch will probably be a twenty-four hour affair. How much kinky sex can a girl take before she explodes?
I’m halfway down the hallway when I realize that:
a) I have no idea how this pump works
b) my next class is Macroeconomics
c) which Professor Segul is now teaching
d) he technically hasn’t punished me for the stunt with the banana
Shit.
I glance over my shoulder, considering what might happen if I disabled the device. My hand curls into a fist.
No way.
Anticipation skitters down my spine at this latest new development. I dart down the stairs and across the hallway, making my way to the medium lecture theater, when footsteps hurry toward me from behind.
Veer Bestlasson jogs to my side, holding a flyer. “In case you change your mind about Saturday.”
I glance down at the purple postcard with him and two others on it, announcing that his band, Tin Soldiers on Pluto, is playing tomorrow at the Campus Café, and remember him mentioning something about it earlier in the week.
“Oh, cool.” I try to inject my voice with enthusiasm.
Veer wraps an arm around my shoulder. “I’ve been keeping tabs on the fallout from yesterday’s lecture. Do you want me to do something to that wanker?”
Shrugging him off, I wonder once more why he’s being so friendly all of a sudden, but he only drapes that arm around my waist.
“Hey, get off,” I snap.
He raises both hands. “Sorry, I was just giving you a hug. Nobody gave a shit when he threw a chair at my head.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, remembering how some of the girls started a crusade to cancel Professor Segul for embarrassing me in class.
Everyone seems to think I’m distraught about the blow job comment, yet there was no uproar at what happened to Veer.
“Right,” I say with a sigh. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”
The device pressing against my pussy buzzes, making me flinch.
“What’s that noise?” Veer asks.
“Nothing.” I shift my bag to my crotch and continue walking toward the lecture theater.
“It would be great if you could come tomorrow.” He keeps up with my fast strides. “And bring your friend, Charlotte.”