Enemies with Benefits

Chapter Three

I sat in silence, wondering to myself—overthinking, actually—if Caleb had actually said that. Maybe I'd imagined it. His hands curled around the steering wheel, knuckles white with anger.

Okay, yeah. Maybe I imagined it. He doesn't exactly look flirty right now.

"Next time you try to lock someone out of their own car, make sure they don't have the app on their phone to unlock it from there."

I rolled my eyes and ignored his words, staring out the window instead. I likely looked pissed. And I was. But not because he picked me up and manhandled me into his car. If I'm being honest with myself, it was hot. And that was the problem. It was hot as hell. And now, in closer quarters than our other encounters hours prior, I had no escape. I was engulfed in his scent and heat, and my body was raging in a fire I couldn't find the will to extinguish—rather the opposite.

I clenched my hands in my lap to keep from touching him. I kept my eyes on the scenery we passed to keep from staring at the muscles I knew I'd see bunching under his suit with each small movement. To keep myself from watching his face furrow and crease in every emotion I never knew he was feeling.

In my head, I wondered if he'd speak of our tiff in my room, but I knew better. Or, rather, I should've known better. I sat, ignorant to the man I knew him to be, still hoping he'd prove me wrong and open up to me for once. Hoping he'd start a resolution for once in our lives. Just as I always had.

But I shook it off and reminded myself that he owed me nothing. We weren't together, which was just as painful of a reminder as thinking of the possibilities of where we could've been had we actually talked that day all those years ago.

The car came to a stop outside of the familiar bar.

"Here. Get out." When my offense must've showed clear on my face, Caleb spoke again. "So you don't have to walk much? I have to go park."

"Oh. Um, thanks. Wait, park? You're staying?"

When he growled and leaned across me to throw the door open without acknowledging my question, I stepped out, wincing when the pain returned the moment my foot hit the ground. When the sound of his car faded into the distance, I couldn't help but notice how he'd flipped from asshole to sweet in the quickest of blinks all day. It infuriated me.

Then again, I knew I did the same to him.

Good, I grinned to myself. Cocky fucker deserves a taste of his own medicine.

I turned and took a deep breath, jerking the door open. I heard my name called immediately.

"Rachel, over here!"

David stood by a bunch of tables jammed together to accommodate the group of professors sitting there. I couldn't help the laugh that raced from my throat at his overly welcoming attitude. He was like a Golden Retriever. It was cute to see someone so open with others. Refreshing. Warm.

"Everyone, this is Rachel Hall. She's the new Calc professor. Rachel Hall, this is everyone." David gestured around the table to nobody in particular.

I nodded with a smile. "Nice and easy name to remember for you guys. At least I won't forget even if I have one too many tonight. Hi, everyone."

I sat and ordered a glass of wine, needing it with the knowledge that Caleb would waltz in any second. And when an annoyingly familiar woman—the one from earlier—slid a chair over to the table as well, I craned my neck for the waiter and was excited to see him returning with my glass. I just wished it had been filled more.

"Anyone else think the new dean's a pompous asshole?"

David's question to the group caught me off guard, and unluckily for me, I'd just taken a sip of my wine. Sputtering against the influx of liquid that managed to go straight down the wrong tube, I coughed until I was slamming a hand against my chest to clear my airway. Eyes stared back at me, some of concern and others in confusion.