Campus Hottie (Campus)

“There’s this great little Italian place about ten minutes away. It’s a real hidden gem in the community. We could eat and then I’ll drop you off at Sutton Hall. Plenty of time for you to finish up your other work.”

I don’t know...

I mean...that’s weird, right?

Having dinner with your professor?

“I’m not sure if you’ve ever had linguini in clam sauce before, but trust me, it’s exceptional. One of the specialties this place is known for.”

My mouth waters at the mention of the pasta dish. That sounds so much better than heating up chicken-flavored Ramen in the microwave. Even though I had dinner at Mom’s last week, all I really did was push it around on my plate. And caf food gets old after a while. There might be a rotation of entrees, but it’s pretty much the same thing over and over again.

“Okay,” I blurt before I can give it too much thought.

His smile broadens as his teeth flash in the darkness. “Great. Let’s go.” He nods toward the nearby parking lot. “My car is over there.”

He peppers me with a series of questions about the play as we fall into line and traverse the walking path that leads toward the well-lit lot next to the athletic center.

Just as we reach his black BMW, my name is shouted from a distance. The deep voice that resonates through the night air sends a shiver dancing down my spine. Even before I turn, I know who I’ll find. I can’t deny that part of me wants to hasten my pace and slip into the front seat before he’s able to reach me.

As tempting as the idea is, I can’t do that. After what happened on the ride to Mom’s house, I wouldn’t put it past Carson to run straight to my brother with this information.

Embarrassment stings my cheeks as I bite down on my lower lip. My guess is that Dr. Holloway probably won’t remember that Carson is the one who interrupted us at the coffee shop. At least, I hope he doesn’t.

I clear my throat when my name is called for a second time. “I’m sorry. Can you give me a minute?”

“Of course.” He nods toward the sleek vehicle. “I’ll warm up the car.”

I swing around, only to find Carson jogging through the empty parking lot. I quicken my pace, wanting to keep him as far away from my instructor as possible. When it comes down to it, his presence is as irritating and over-protective as my brother’s. He doesn’t need to be all up in my business.

A frown tugs at the corners of his lips as his feet stutter to a stop. His steely gaze darts to the BMW before slicing to mine.

He tips his chin toward the vehicle. “Who is that?”

I hitch my backpack higher onto my shoulder and shift under his penetrating stare. “Hello to you, too,” I shoot back, not wanting to answer the question.

His eyes narrow as he takes another step closer. “Don’t play games with me, Elle. I’m not in the mood for it. Were you about to leave with that guy?” There’s a moment of silence as he eats up more of my personal space. When I fail to respond, his voice dips, turning incredulous. “Wait a minute. Is that your professor? The one I saw you with last week?”

I’m not proud of the fact that I consider lying before quickly disregarding it. There’s no reason for me to hide the truth. At the end of the day, Carson is nothing more than my brother’s friend. Another jailkeeper, as far as I’m concerned. I don’t owe him any explanations as to who I spend time with.

With those thoughts buzzing through my brain, I straighten my shoulders and force myself to admit the truth. “Yes, it is.”

Shock flickers across his face as his brows crash into his hairline. “Where are you going with him?”

“I stopped by earlier for office hours and now, because it’s dark out, he’s driving me back to the dorms.” All right, so maybe that’s not the unvarnished truth, but it’s close enough.

He folds his arms across his T-shirt clad chest. I hate the way the quick movement makes the brawny muscles in his arms and chest pop. He must have come directly from working out.

“That’s not necessary. I’ll make sure you get home safely.” His voice sharpens as he bites out the words.

Maybe if I’d never thrown myself at him in such a humiliating way, I’d do as he says and tell Dr. Holloway that it’s easier to catch a ride back to the dorms with my friend. But I’m still smarting over that conversation. Along with the ones that have followed it.

I’ve told Carson more than a dozen of times that I don’t need another brother, and I meant it. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.