Hair slipped from my bun and covered the side of my face. He cupped the back of my neck, digging in his fingers and tilting my head. He wedged his knee between my thighs and forced them apart, so he could slip his other hand beneath my skirt.
I bit my lip hard, but a deep, achy noise slipped free.
His mouth hovered close to mine as he said, “If you paid closer attention in class, then you’d have Law of effect nailed by now.”
I took measured breaths, unable to control the tremor in my voice as his palm grazed my skin and inched higher. Heat simmered from deep within. “Maybe I would, if you’d teach rather than nailing your students.”
Sharp pain snatched my breath as Drew pinched my inner thigh, hard enough to leave a mark. “Student,” he stressed. “Maybe you need another lesson in operant conditioning.”
I swallowed. “I’m easily distracted,” I said, changing course. “My teacher is pretty hot.”
But this didn’t alleviate the aggressive resentment thrumming through him. Jaw set rigidly, he gripped my face before he kissed me savagely. I gave in to the yearning, the hunger to have him desire me again.
I knew my behavior was causing a rift between us, b
ut I couldn’t control the compulsion. I’d been making snide accusations about him and Chelsea. The signs were obvious to me, though. Along with Chelsea’s grossly observable flirtation, there was the recurring dream. I was sleep deprived and paranoid. And the gossip inflamed an already tender nerve.
According to the rumor mill, Chelsea’s pursuit of the professor was a welcome one; Drew’s parents not opposed to the union of their prestigious families.
He broke the kiss. “I only want you.”
I searched his eyes, seeking that uncomfortable feeling—that tell—which would present with a lie. If he felt guilt, if he was disturbed by it, he hid it well.
Drew’s life was—compared to most—a charmed life. Wealthy. Educated. Attractive. He wanted for nothing, and yet he found ways to endanger it all. Like a gambler needed to skirt the brink to feel alive.
“I’m not good for you,” I admitted, shocked when it left my mouth. I’d never professed it aloud before, but he had to know it was the truth.
The Chelseas and Drews of the world were better. They just were.
His voice softened. “I only want you,” he repeated.
He didn’t refute my claim. He couldn’t. I knew right then that I could never be his match, his equal, just as I’d known when I was a child that I’d never be like Amber. She shined so brightly…until her light went out. Me trying to exist in his world was like trying to force a square peg into a round hole. Too much friction. It doesn’t belong.
“Why?” I had to know. Why me?
He smoothed my hair away from my face, his gaze dancing over my features. “It’s the human condition. We want what’s bad for us. We’re designed to self-destruct.”
Our bubble burst in that moment. Reality crept in like a thief, stealing my serenity, my bliss I’d found with Drew. He was an excellent teacher. The Law of effect. My behavior was earning me unpleasant consequences from him.
Pain, acute and blinding, lanced my soul. I only had four choices:
Modify. Trivialize. Add. Deny.
The lie I told myself was that, if I was incapable of change, then Drew could change. That he would shun his affluent life for me. Because we were special together—neither one of us had ever experienced such intense emotions before.
I was half right.
And when his lips descended on mine, I was well again. The dark tide washing ashore within me started to recede.
Cognitive dissonance ensures that our mind will correct the imbalance.
24
Murder Board
Lakin: Now
“You guys must either really like bar food or—” Mike Rixon breaks off in the middle of his sentence, letting the weight of implication hang heavy in the air.