There’s a burst of noise and chattering voices as the doors of one of the nearby school buildings bang open. Dozens of students filter out into the warm sunlight, laughing and talking amongst themselves. I know classes won’t start until Monday, but I guess I was wrong to think the campus would be a ghost town until then.
Declan and Elias look in the direction of the noise too, and I take a step back, already turning away from them. A good time to leave, I think. Make my exit and spare myself the early onset of scrutiny that comes with being the charity case. I’ll have to deal with that shit soon enough—no reason to get a head start.
But as I start to make my wordless departure toward the admin building, the approach of a new man makes me pause.
He’s walking toward us with purpose, his gaze focused on the two guys behind me as he lifts his chin in greeting. But then his focus shifts to me and his entire posture changes as he recognizes me.
I recognize him too.
Hell, I’d remember those piercing blue-green eyes anywhere.
It’s Gray.
The man who fucked me senseless in the bathroom of The Silent Hour all those months ago before doing it all over again in the alley behind the bar.
My first thought?
Please let him be the other scholarship student.
Let him be the small beacon of much needed solidarity among these out of touch rich fucks that don’t have anything better to do than judge a poor person on sight.
My second thought?
I wonder how far away our dorms are from each other.
I think maybe he’s had the same idea. That smoldering, soul drenching gaze is turned on me, fiery as the night we fucked in a dirty bathroom like we were about to die.
He looks like he wants to pick up right where we left off. Like he wants to throw me over his shoulder and haul me into another alley, then push me up against a wall and fuck me so hard the entire building shakes.
I’m not really opposed.
In fact, my panties are already slick just thinking about it.
His long strides bring him closer, and we don’t look away from each other as he comes to a stop a few feet away from me. He’s far enough away that I’d have to take a step forward to reach out and touch him, but even so, energy crackles in the air between us, white-hot and electric.
“Sophie.”
His voice is the same deep rumble I remember, and my body reacts to the sound instantaneously, as if it’s been imprinted on my soul. Even my name sounds sinful on his lips, like it’s a promise of every filthy thing he wants to do to me.
“Ah. Well, we didn’t get her name.” Elias clears his throat, and although I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from Gray, I see the blond man glancing between us in my periphery. His gaze settles on Gray as he adds, “She’s the new scholarship student. The second one.”
Because I’m watching Gray so intently, I see every detail of his expression as he absorbs that information.
And if I thought the reaction from the other two men was harsh, the change in Gray is so fierce and so complete that it almost gives me physical whiplash.
His jaw tightens, his lips pressing into a line. The hungry gaze that was fixed on me a moment ago is no longer ravenous.
It’s cold.
Disgusted.
Like he’s looking at a slug making its slimy trail up the side of his bedroom wall.
My heart kicks up in my chest, a burst of adrenaline flooding me as my instincts prepare my body for a fight. I don’t know what the fuck just happened, I don’t know what these men have against me, but I’d be an idiot not to realize that something is wrong.
This isn’t just the mocking or derision that I’d braced myself for as one of the school’s few charity cases.
This is hatred.
And I don’t know where it came from.
Before I can say a word—not that I know what I would say—Gray opens his mouth and laughs. It’s loud, almost intentionally so. Forced-sounding, like he’s using it to draw attention.
And it works.
Students who were drifting away from the building they all emerged from a moment ago slow their steps, turning to watch the four of us with interested, greedy gazes. Probably hoping for some cheap entertainment they can gossip about later.
Gray’s ocean eyes flick toward the gathering crowd quickly, and then he lifts his voice again.
“Right,” he drawls. “The second scholarship student. Bit of a waste if you ask me. Kinda like tossing money into a dumpster and lighting it on fucking fire.”
“Excuse me?” My voice is hard. The warmth that flooded my veins when he first looked at me has turned to ice, freezing my limbs.
The shift in his tone grates like sandpaper against my skin. He’s cruel. Vitriolic.
“You heard me.” He smirks, his gaze burning into me. “One charity case is already a stretch for the school. Two though? What’s the fucking point? You take some messed up druggie or coke slut off the street, polish her up, give her a piece of paper that says ‘you did good sweetie,’ and then what? She’s still a fucked up mess. Still a pathetic loser.” He chuckles. “There’s not a degree in the world that can change that.”
I grit my teeth, my hands curling into fists. Two minutes ago, I wanted to fuck this man’s brains out on whatever horizontal—or vertical—surface we could find. Now it’s taking every bit of self-control I have not to plant my fist in his face.
“What the fuck is your problem with me?” I spit out. “What the hell difference does it make to you if I’m here on a scholarship or not? You don’t even know me. You don’t know a goddamn thing about me.”
His smirk takes on an even darker twist, and he steps forward, closing the distance between us in two long strides. I back up, but it doesn’t stop him from getting fully up in my space.
“I know enough, Sparrow,” he murmurs, and this time his words aren’t a performance, a show for the crowd. They’re just for me. “You shouldn’t have come here. You don’t deserve to be here. And if you’re smart, you’ll turn around and fucking leave.”
My heart gives a weird half-thud in my chest, like it forgot how to beat for a second. The malice in his words is palpable, almost like a physical weight that presses against me.
But it’s only one word that stopped my heart.
Sparrow.
The tattoo I have on my shoulder. My favorite tattoo, the one that means more to me than any of the others. It’s of a bird in flight, wings outstretched as they catch the air.
Graceful.
Beautiful.
Free.
He saw it the night we had sex at The Silent Hour. I know he did. I can still feel his fingers tracing the outline of the ink.
He remembers that night just as well as I do, and he’s letting me know it. But whatever passed between us then, whatever seemed to pass between us when he first caught sight of me today, it doesn’t mean anything now.
Not anymore.
Whatever chemistry existed between us once, it’s been swallowed up by hatred.
I have no idea where all this is coming from, but the longer this goes on, the more attention we draw. Dozens of people have formed a wide circle around the four of us, watching the spectacle unfold. They whisper among themselves, eyeing me, eyeing the trio of guys.
Gray hesitates for a moment, still leaning so close to me that I can smell the masculine scent of his aftershave. It’s spicy and rich, and I hate that my body remembers that too, but it does.