Beautiful Misery |1

25. PROVOKING HIS MISERY

Nodding, I placed my phone face down on the counter. "I think I'm going to head early..." I said, getting up and brushing the crumbs off my shirt. Bending to collect my bag, Rayne came to stand only inches from me.

"Let's go." He stated calmly, completely disregarding the fact that I hadn't invited him to join me. Grabbing my phone, he closed the distance between us. Pressing a hand to the small of my back he slid the device into my jeans pocket.

Gripping his veiny forearm, I struggled to remain upright— my senses were going haywire. His heated palm burned through the thin material of my shirt, setting my skin alight with desire. The guys distinctive pheromones had to be fucking with the primal woman inside me.

Clearing my throat I awkwardly slid away from him. Distance safe. I told myself. Moving first, he led us outside. Neglecting to offer me a choice— perfectly embodying the brutish mannerisms of his cavemen counterparts— he dropped my bag on the back seat. Holding the passenger door open in silent command, he straightened his shoulders as though daring me to challenge him right now.

Deciding it would be wiser to just skip a fight— that would most likely end with me succumbing to my lustful intentions— I sank into the seat without question. The car ride was absent of conversation; it was clear that Rayne was trying to understand my abrupt mood change earlier.

Arriving quickly as we'd missed the rush of students running late for lectures, we found a park close to campus. Getting out I collected my bag and began to cross the manicured lawns. My body shivered as Rayne mimicked my every turn. "What are you doing?" I asked, when it became painfully obvious he was following me.

"Walking you to class." He replied. Well he sees this very differently...the snarky voice in my head accused.

"I don't need you to." I explained, "you're right to head to yours-" clasping my elbow, he pressed my back to the wall.

"The fucker who set you off, I wanna have a few words with him." His steely voice hinted at the violence he intended to unleash. Glancing down the hall in both directions, I pressed a hand to the carved planes of his muscular abdomen.

I couldn't reveal who had caused my panic attack without explaining my past. There was also the small matter of it having been a professor— one who was completely without fault. "Rayne...it wasn't any guy. It was more like a nightmare during the day." My gaze didn't falter, because this was the truth; on some level he could sense that.

Nodding reluctantly, he released me. "I'll still walk you." He finalised, sighing I didn't fight it. My phone buzzed against my thigh, offering me a perfect distraction from the brooding Adonis beside me.

Instantly regretting my decision, I scanned the several messages Kyle had left me. Deleting them, I shoved my phone back into my pocket. "Mendoza bothering you?" He asked tightly, keeping his eyes trained ahead.

Filling Rayne in on my rocky relationship with Kyle seemed too odd. But at the same time unloading my feelings on him felt right and I couldn't explain why. "He's...I'm just tired." I started.

"Of him?" His calculated gaze dropped to me, searching for more than I was offering in the way of an explanation.

My lips began moving of their own accord, wanting to confess— both the past and present regardless of the consequences and my comprehension of it— to him. "Of everything, of myself, of pretending to feel-"

"Angel!" Jack's familiar accent called out from behind us. Jogging down the hall he wrapped his arms around me, lifting me off the floor he lowered me excitedly.

Chuckling, I readjusted my slipping backpack. "Someone's excited." Smiling, I felt my mood shift towards ease. Milo had a similar effect on me. He was always so energetic and full of life, there was never a dull moment, that he ensured.