My thoughts are raging around my head with the whoosh of my rushing blood fuzzing everything around me.
“Let me go.”
“No. No fucking way, not after that.”
I’m trembling with all the feelings seething inside me. “How could you…” Pushing firmly away from him, I pry myself out of his arms, almost knocking my professor down the bottom step as I stumble.
“Don’t you dare touch me!” I smack Leo’s hand when he tries to steady me. “You lied!”
“It wasn’t a lie.”
“It wasn’t the truth either.”
Wayne starts to follow Professor Winthrop down the hall, yeah, he knows he’s in the bad books too.
“She’s my tutor.”
“And? She’s my mother.” Standing, he takes the three steps down to me. “Why does it matter?”
“Because I trust you, Leo. You told me all about your dad…Kit…why not your mum?”
“It’s why I brought you here today!”
“Today? She’s my fucking professor!” Grinding my fist to my lips, I try to recover some modicum of my patience. “Professor Winthrop is your mother.”
“Rosalind Alison Winthrop, is my mum.” Leo takes a cautious step towards me looking at me with those green puppy dog eyes that make my chest tighten like a fucking useless fist. It’s already melting from his wide-eyed pout.
“I should throw my shoes at your head. You’ve had so many chances to tell me.” Sitting on the second step, he pulls me down beside him and although I contemplate taking one of my heels off and hitting him on the head with it, I don’t.
It would probably feel better to thump him, but it would do nothing for the situation anyhow. He’s so hard-headed.
“Next month, she’ll be nothing more than my mother to you. And I know that now, you’re probably worrying that people will think she favours you…”
No shit. I can already hear what everyone will say.
She couldn’t sleep with the professor, so she went for her son.
People can be mean and rumours like this spread like wild fire.
“She doesn’t. In fact, she doesn’t hold much hope for you.”
Wait! It takes a moment for his words to sink through my worry, but when they do, I stiffen. “What?”
Tilting my face to his, he smirks down at me. Even seated he feels like he’s towering over me with his broad shoulders and long torso. “I’m joking, relax.”
He’s joking? Mr-fucking-broody-pants picks this time to joke?
“She refuses to talk about you when it comes to work and studies. She’s a professional like that, but I think she likes you…I mean, she’s only told me to run a mile once or twice.” He laughs like it’s the funniest thing ever.
Arrrgh, I hate him!
“You’re a fucking arsehole!” I whack him in the chest as I get up and walk away.
“Come on, Cass!”
I have no idea where I’m heading, but my head is spinning, my insides are vibrating. I’m in motherfucking overload.
Clenching my hands, I try to steady myself as I pause in the dim hallway. The kitchen door is closed and all I can hear coming from inside is the clinking of cutlery and crockery.