My Enemy Next Door

Unfortunately, the other two group members aren’t nearly as dedicated to the task as we are, so Tyler and I often end up alone.

I need to tell him to take their names off our final paper.

Fumbling around for my keys, I put on a coat and open my door.

For some strange reason, the guy I’ve just started dating weeks ago is standing in the hallway with a pink balloon.

What the hell?

“Hey.” He smiles at me. “Are you going somewhere this late?”

“Yeah. Emergency group project.”

“Again?” He tilts his head to the side. “It’s not like you guys are curing cancer. You can take a break or cut some corners. It’s just college, you know?”

I make a mental note to dump him sometime next week; Any guy who is willing to cut corners isn’t the guy for me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“It’s our three week anniversary,” he says, extending the balloon towards me. “I want you to know how much you mean to me.”

Yeah, I’m definitely dumping you. “Thank you so much.”

“Would you like a ride?”

“Sure.” I force a smile. “To Houghton Library.”

He clasps my hand and leads me down the hall and into his oversized pickup truck.

We ride in utter silence since I honestly can’t think of anything to say. That, and he’s not a guy for many words.

I’ll never admit it, but whenever I’m out with other guys, I sometimes wish that Tyler is sitting across with me instead.

When we make it to the library he presses a quick kiss on my lips and I rush inside.

“Was that guy who just dropped you off your boyfriend?” Tyler crosses his arms the moment the door shuts behind me.

“He was none of your business.” I toss my scarf onto a table. “What’s so important that I needed to race across campus at midnight to talk about it?”

“I’ve never seen that guy on campus before,” he says, avoiding my question. “Are you dating him?”

“Are you dating the redhead I’ve seen you with at Bluestone Cafe?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Then dump her and date someone else.”

Silence.

“I don’t think anything is wrong with our defense,” I say, ignoring the sudden tension in the room. “The prosecution won’t be able to poke any holes in it.”

“I disagree,” he says, stepping closer to me. “I think there are plenty of holes in our clients’ stories. We need to iron them out a bit more, figure out if they can coexist in better ways.”

“Our clients don’t know what they want from each other,” I whisper, starting to feel like we’re talking about two separate things.

“I think they do know what they want.” He’s so close to me that his forehead is pressed against mine. “I think they’re just scared to admit it.”

Silence.

His lips crash suddenly against mine, and I suck in a breath as he kisses me harder than I’ve ever been kissed in my life.

Never wanting him to stop, I look into his eyes—begging him to continue, to give me more.

I wrap my arms around his neck, and he lifts me up—placing me onto the closest desk.

Our mouths establish a reckless rhythm, and he slides a hand under my coat.

The moment his warm hand touches my skin, I moan and damn near beg him to take me back to his dorm room.

Wait. What the hell are we doing? I pull back and push him away from me.

“I need to go,” I say, standing to my feet. “I’ll uh, see you in Torts. Thank you for making me race over here for a conversation we could’ve had tomorrow.”

“You’re insinuating that you want to pick up where we left off tomorrow?” he asks.

“Not at all.” I lie. “I never want to think about how big of a mistake I was about to make again.”

“In that case … ” He picks up a blue folder and hands it to me. “This is the real reason I wanted you to stop by.”

I flip it over, and my blood instantly boils. This asshole is being named The Scholar of the Class.

He’s beaten me at the highest level, made it more than final.

Son of a bitch.

“You wanted me to come here, so you could brag about one-upping me again?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. Then he snatches the folder from me and opens the door, motioning for me to leave. “Don’t worry. I don’t expect you to say, Congratulations.”

“I would never.” I move past him. “Fuck you, Tyler Hudson. For real this time. Fuck. You. ”

Chassie

Present Day

Manhattan, New York

I was running out of ways to avoid seeing Tyler, and I knew that Sebastian wouldn’t let me sleep on his couch forever.

Especially not after he’d had to turn away some redhead who knocked on his door last night.

Still, I was willing to play this game until my luck ran its course.

Taking the stairwell up to my office, I grabbed the files I needed and left notes for the interns.