She dropped her hand. I had to let her go, even though murdering Link and tossing her over my shoulder seemed like the more expedient option. My father and the rest of the attendees would likely frown on my behavior. Camille backed away, the loss of her heat returning my insides to their usual barren state.
Link wrapped an arm around her waist. A growl rose from my throat but got lost in the music. She shifted from one heeled foot to the other, nervous. I made her uncomfortable. She had no idea.
“Great party.” He offered again, then pointed through the crowd to the hor d’oeuvres table. “I think we’ll see what’s on the menu.” He took her elbow and steered her away.
An uncomfortable feeling settled in my chest. Acid reflux, perhaps, or some other form of indigestion.
Link slid his hand to her lower back. My hands balled into fists, and I fought the urge to follow them. Her chestnut brown hair cascaded down her back in loose curls, the sway of her hips magnetic. But she was with him, when she should have been with me.
The ache in my chest intensified. I’d have to stop by the pharmacy on the way home.
Right before I lost sight of her, she turned and smiled at me, as if sending me a spark of hope.
The spark lit an inferno. It blazed up and promised destruction for anything that got between us.
She was mine. Even if I had to steal her.
4
Camille
“What does the presence of these four micronutrients tell us about the specimen’s biochemistry?” I flashed the chlorophyll formation onto the screen, each molecule drawn by hand and labeled for iron, zinc, and copper.
“That you have a nice ass.” A low voice from the back of the room.
I spun as half the class laughed and the other half looked anywhere but at me. Minton Baxter, it had to be him. He grinned and pretended to be typing notes on his laptop.
My heartbeat thudded in my ears, and I knew I had to take charge of the situation or else it would take charge of me. “Minton, may I see you outside for a moment?”
A chorus of “oooohs” broke out across the room as he stood and sauntered through the desks.
“Take out a piece of paper, all of you. When I get back, I expect each of you to have perfectly drawn examples of Lamprocapnos spectabilis.”
I followed Minton into the hall and closed the door on the students’ groans. Blue lockers lined the empty hallway, and the gray tile floor gleamed under the fluorescents. Minton leaned against the wall next to the classroom door, his hands in his pockets and a cocky grin on his face.
“What is going on with you?” I crossed my arms. “When you started the semester, you were engaged and doing well. Now, you cut class and create constant disruptions. Your grades have tanked. What am I missing here?”
He shrugged. “I was just telling the truth.”
“I think you know that your behavior is inappropriate, but you keep doing it anyway.” I needed to get inside his head, figure out the problem, and come up with a solution. There had to be a reason why he’d gone from top marks to class clown. “What’s the deal?”
“Nothing.” He dropped his gaze and picked at the messy knot of his tie.
“Is it your parents?”
His fingers froze. “No.”
“What is it that you’re not telling me?” I softened my voice. “I want to help you, Mint, if you’ll let me.”
He met my eyes again, and I couldn’t mistake the pain that flashed across his face. Then it was gone. “I can think of a few ways you can help.” He licked his lips as his gaze roved up and down my body.
I knew what he was doing—hiding behind inappropriate behavior to deflect from the real problem. But I wasn’t going to get through to him like this. “Get back to your desk. I expect you to turn in your drawing first thing tomorrow.”
He huffed and returned to the classroom, closing the door too hard behind him. I chewed on my thumbnail as the slam reverberated down the hall. I wanted to contact his parents, but that was obviously the sore spot. Maybe his uncle who worked with Link knew something? But it wasn’t like I could just call him up and start quizzing him on his nephew.
I fished in my pocket for my cell phone, but hesitated before texting Link. I’d just seen him the previous weekend at the Lindstrom party. He’d taken me back to his apartment. When I’d told him I wasn’t ready to sleep together, he’d accepted it, though I could sense the tension underneath. We’d been dating for months, and he’d been more than patient, but I still didn’t know if it was time for the next step. I wasn’t a virgin, but it had been a long time. Did I even know what to do anymore?