A Dangerous Temptation

Chapter 96

    ~I hate you. I love you. I hate that I love you...
   ~Don't want to but I can't put nobody else above you...

                            *****

                      Miguel's POV

       One miserable week.
   Seven fucking miserable days.
  I had finally fucked her and we could both move on, right?

   So, why the hell wasn't I moving on? Why could I still smell her lavender perfume on my sheets, every night?
  I was in a place worse than hell. This was torture.
   Because I thought about her.
Every single second that passed.
  I had to fucking sleep with her lingering scent on my bed, every day and the blood on the sheets was further proof of how miserable I was.

   I bit my lip until I tasted blood and closed my eyes with a loud groan.
   Abruptly, I swung the bottle in my hand against the wall, not even flinching as it shattered, the remnants flying all over my room.
   I staggered to the bathroom and splashed water on my face before glancing in the mirror.
   My gaze lingered on my beard and I sighed, sagging against the wall.
   Maybe, after we all watched the video today, I would finally let this go.
    Even I knew that was a lie as I grabbed my car keys and stepped out of my apartment.

   I stuffed my phone into my pockets and walked faster when I spotted students rushing into the maths lecture hall.
    I was barely three steps away from the entrance when I saw her step into my line of sight.
   She stopped, glancing over her shoulder and my breath hitched.

   It was like the first day all over, again.
   On the soccer field when I noticed her while her hot friend had been checking me out.
   Her face had been squeezed into a grimace, trying to make her friend stop fussing about her before noticing her friend was no longer paying attention to her.
   My breath had hitched that day when she let her eyes wander down my body before capturing my gaze with her sexy blue eyes.
 
   I could have easily gone for her roommate. She was my type. Flashy. Hot and definitely aware she was hot.
  But one look at the quiet blonde who even blushed when a guy whistled and I immediately knew I wanted her.
  What better way than to use her as a bet?
   I just didn't expect the situation to be reversed.

  She was supposed to be the one with the heartache, crying and looking like shit.
  But she stood, a few inches away from me in a black top and black leggings with her hair pulled up into a ponytail, looking like I was a piece of paper she couldn't even care less, about.
   I swallowed as her gaze darkened for a second and I stepped forward to touch her, just once.
   Even if it was as simple as my skin brushing hers, I would die a happy man.
   "Miss Raymond?" Professor Berkeley called, glancing at her.
 
   Her steely gaze returned and she stepped inside the hall, holding my gaze before slamming the door in my face. Just like she did, when she walked away from me, a week ago and my whole body shook in agony again.
  If this was half of what the girls I fucked for bet, went through, then, I was fucking done betting on girls.

   I swallowed and turned around, walking slowly out of the school building.
   If I hadn't gotten her message, a week ago that she was done with everything labeled Miguel Chester Alonso, I definitely got the hint, now.
  

                           *****

   Beer was my favorite type of alcohol. Because it was something I drank when I was myself. When I just wanted to chill.
   But other types of alcohol? Scotch? Whiskey? Martini? The rest shit? Could never be my favorite because that was what I drank all day when I wanted to get high and forget how much of a jackass I was.
  I knew lung cancer was real. Hell, Kesha's mum died from the stuff.
   I sucked in a breath at Kesha's name.