Chapter 5
My skin wascold and clammy from sitting under the air-conditioning unit in the conference room for too long. Bellamy didn't comment as he led me back out into the office lobby with a hand on myarm.
I dragged my gaze across the floor, memorizing each thread of the carpet that hadn't been replaced in well over thirty years. Grayson lounged back in the same chair we had left him in, with his legs straight and crossed at the ankles. The moment I stepped through the doorway, he smiled andstraightened.
He stood, moving towards me. "Thanks,” he said. One heavy arm swung over my shoulders, dislodging Bellamy's hand. "I'll take herhome."
I moved my hands to his fingers, laying precariously close to my breast – which he didn’t appear aware of – and gripped the digits tightly before maneuvering out from under his grasp. I dropped his hand and frowned athim.
"No. Thank you," I snapped. "I'll walk." I stepped away from him and grabbed my bag from the chair besideus.
"No, you won't." The distraction of Grayson was overshadowed by Bellamy's deep rumble. "I will be driving you home. Though she appreciates the offer, Mr. Caruso, it won't be necessary." My eyes widened as Bellamy used Grayson's last name in much the same formal fashion as Principal Wiggins, edged with authority though Bellamy's tone was layered withdisdain.
"Are you sure that won't threaten your job?" Grayson's eyes narrowed as he studied Bellamy. "I didn't know male teachers could give their female students rides. I wonder what the school board would think ofthat."
Bellamy grinned, but it was a decidedly unfriendly facial expression. The stretch of his mouth was a quirk that made him seem more like an unyielding feralanimal.
"Lucky for me, I'm not a teacher, Mr. Caruso.” The bite in Bellamy’s tone as he spoke was enough to make my eyes widen. “Harlow, this way,please."
I followed, refusing to peek over my shoulder at Grayson's expression as we left the office. I chose, instead, to focus ahead. Bellamy held the door for me as we walked out into the abandoned hallway, and did the same when we reached the glass doors leading into the staff parkinglot.
As we stepped outside, the temperature skyrocketed at least fifteen degrees, heating my cold skin and causing sweat to form across my shoulders and forearms before we even reached his car. The humidity swept over me, a daunting wave of heat-drenchedair.
Bellamy unbuttoned his suit jacket, peeling the material off his shoulders and reaching up to loosen his tie as he unfastened the top button of his pristine, white dress-shirt. The clothes didn't fit him, in my opinion. They were too constraining, like bindings meant to cage rather than clothe. The new grin he flashed my way was much morerelaxed.
"This is me," he said, as we stopped in front of a familiar BMW. I halted in front of it, the strap of my bag almost slidingoff.
"Thisis–"
"Yup," he said before I could finish. "Marv was very upset with you when you jumped out in the road." His low rumble proclaimed his agreement with Marv'sfeelings.
"You were there," I said, speaking my realization aloud. "You were the one driving." I stared at him over the hood as he opened the passenger sidedoor.
"Please get in." He gestured to the car. "It's hot out here, I'd like to get some air conditioning going before I start to stink in this monkeysuit."
I slid into the seat and he closed the door behind me. The dashboard was littered with various screens and buttons – all excessively high tech. I curled my hands into my lap, trying not to touch any of it, sure I would break the first thing I came into contact with. The driver's side door opened and Bellamy's arm shot out as he tossed the jacket into the back seat. He sat and began rolling up his sleeves, revealing dark inklines.
"You havetattoos?"
"Just the one so far," he replied, rotating his arm so that I could better see the design. A deep green stem grew out from his inner elbow that blossomed into a deep purple flower with pouting petals. "I had it done overseas. It's designed with a thicker needle. Would you like to feelit?"
"What kind of flower is it?" I heard myself ask as I tentatively reached out to touch themarkings.
"It's an iris blossom," he replied. His skin was warm and rough against my palm. I followed the lines with a finger, stroking the raised impressions the needle had left in his skin. It was beautifullydone.
"I likeit."
He smiled, a wide smile that bled into his eyes, making them sparkle. "I'm glad." He pulled away and started thecar.
"How do you know Marv?" I asked. "Does that mean you know Knixtoo?"
"Yes, I do," he answered as he backed out of the parkingspace.
I glanced at the window. "Are we going to seethem?"
"Notyet."
"Where are we going?" The car slowed at a stopsign.