I lean forward as well. “You’re right. It’s none of your business. However, I can appreciate your concern.”
The corners of her eyes tighten as she peers at me. “All I ask of you is that you consider yourself first. It is all I ask of any student, by the way. Even Mr. Baylor.”
But we both know that Drew doesn’t have to worry about being lost in me. His life is mapped out in glowing pinpoints of light.
A dark chasm opens up beneath me, threatening to suck me down. Because she is right, I have no idea who I am supposed to be, or what the hell I’m going to do once college is over and Drew’s gone.
The edgy, disheartened feeling does not abate as I follow Professor Lambert into our class. I just want to go home and crawl under the covers. The room is too cold, and the tips of my icy fingers begin to throb as I take my seat and pull out my AirBook. Due to the meeting, I’m early and Drew isn’t here. But he will be soon.
I’d been looking forward to seeing him for days. Missing him and wanting him with a force that ties me in knots and robs me of sleep. Now, glancing at Lambert and then away, anxiety rolls within my stomach.
And then he’s here. As always, I sense him before I see him. But when I do, I can’t breathe.
Drew stops at the entrance to the room and simply looks at me. Then smiles. His entire body seems to light up. Like he’s plugged in to me. And that energy bounces back over me, lifting the little hairs along my skin, tripping up the steady beat of my heart. Lost. I know that now. I’ve lost myself to him. Utterly.
His grin grows as he strides forward. He’s so lit up, people stare as he walks by. And my pulse races faster. I’m practically bouncing in my seat with the need to jump up and wrap myself around him. But then I catch Professor Lambert’s knowing gaze and tense. Fucking busybody Professor.
Drew stops before my desk. “Hey.” Oh, that soft, for-me-only voice, it melts me every time.
Before I can say anything back, he leans down and captures my mouth with his. I feel it down to my core. The kiss is possessive, tender, and just enough to have me wanting to chase after him as he pulls away. But we’re in class, so I brace my fists against the desk and keep still.
The glint of affection in his eyes tells me he knows exactly what I’m doing and how affected I am. His warm hand cups my cold cheek, and I shiver.
“I missed you,” he whispers before brushing a kiss over the tip of my nose and then slipping into his seat.
I start to give him a sidelong smile but notice the sets of eyes on us. Jesus. Everybody stares. They stop as soon as Drew notices them. But he doesn’t seem to care. He simply moves his desk closer to mine, until our arms brush, sparking off more tingles of feeling over my skin.
When his fingers twine through mine, I lean into him. “Do you really have to give them more to gawk at?”
He snorts softly under his breath. “I’ll never understand why they care what I do.”
“I think it’s more about who you do,” I mutter darkly.
He laughs, his thumb caressing the back of my hand. “Well, I care about that too.”
Another glance from Lambert, and I draw my hand from Drew’s to open my laptop. He does the same, but he remains close to my side, touching me in small ways every chance he gets. And I feel suffocated, as if wrapped up in thick, hot wool. Not by Drew, but by the rest of the world, watching us from the corners of their eyes the whole time.
Notice of us doesn’t let up after class. It follows us as we walk out of the lecture hall and onto the grass. Drew, as usual, is oblivious. He’s more concerned about putting his arm around me and nuzzling my hair.
“God, you smell good,” he says. “What is it that makes you smell so good, Jones?”
I can’t help but laugh at that. “A liberal application of Moroccan oil to keep my hair from frizzing out of control is the likely culprit.”
“Ah,” he says with a small smile, “the expensive stuff that kicks my dime store shampoo’s ass, right?”