Feral: Book One (6 page)

He was right. The likelihood of anyone, student or otherwise, being there was almost nil.

I parked behind him, and let my eyes drift over the car as I climbed out. “What kind of car is that?”

His smile was instantaneous.
“That
is an Audi S5 coupe.”

“So it is as expensive as it looks,” I said dryly.

“Indeed.”

He offered me his elbow, and almost instinctively, I slipped my hand into the crook, staggered at how fluid and natural my response seemed
. It shouldn’t have felt so easy though,
I mentally argued with myself.

I pushed the thoughts aside at once. If I were going to make it through this lunch with any grace, not to mention my sanity, intact, I was going to have to stop the quarrelling between my logic and my surprising draw toward his being. I was determined to make it through this, and once I had done so, I would simply tell him that while I appreciated the camaraderie, I believed it would be best to not continue our acquaintanceship in such a manner. I was a student after all, and he a professor of the university I attended.

Even as the thoughts swirled in my mind, I felt a twinge of…despair?

You’re being ridiculous!
I growled to myself.
He’s a professor, and you hardly know him. It’s a crush, and you’re letting it get out of hand.

I thought you weren’t going to argue with me.

That stopped me cold, and I decided then and there I’d call my shrink when her office opened, first thing Monday morning, because I was losing my mind. Literally. I had to be. It was the only thing to explain my ridiculous infatuation with this man, but now I seemed to have a new habit of arguing with myself.

Despite my continued internal warring, lunch was fantastic. He had been right. The food was beyond scrumptious, exquisite actually, and the golds, reds, and browns of the dining room were satisfyingly inviting.

The little hole-in-the-wall was owned by a couple, Calogero and Ermina Barsetti, who appeared to be in their late sixties. They had four children of whom they were very proud and all of whom apparently turned out to be as good at cooking as their parents. They also had two Bolognese dogs named Beast and Mitzi.

I couldn’t help but smile and laugh with the couple. They were as charming as the food was delicious, and I found myself hoping that perhaps Simon would ask me to come back sometime for a second lunch, as highly inappropriate as it was. Sadly, I had to banish those thoughts, and tried to ignore the pang I felt in my chest as our meal drew closer to its end.

“Doctor Treviso—”

“Simon.”

I felt a distinct thrill, stronger than the first time he had urged me to use his given name, fill me and had to shove it deep down in order to focus. “Simon, I…” I was having issues getting the words out. “I don’t want you to think I don’t enjoy your company.”

I had to lower my eyes to the pink tablecloth, which was far more appealing than it had been twenty seconds ago. “You are wonderful company. You’re hilarious and intelligent, and—” I was starting to sound like some love-sick teenager, and I had to stop at once— “I’m worried about what could happen. Brie said something, and I’ve started to worry. If people knew you were socializing with a student, it could not only give the wrong impression, but you could end up in trouble with the university. You’re an instructor and I’m a student. You could be fired and I could be expelled.

“I really think anything more than a strictly professional, student and teacher relationship could be really…bad,” I said flatly. “I’m surprised no one’s said anything about breakfast and the fact you’re normally buying mine.”

I finally gazed back up to find his face impassive, and came to the conclusion the blank look on his features was worse than if he had been angry. “I just don’t want either one of us to get in trouble.”

He licked his lips, and I found myself wanting to taste the plump, pink flesh. “Sofia, the university’s policy regarding student and teacher interaction is simultaneously clear and vague. It specifically states that no professor shall engage in unprofessional behavior with his or her students, which can be interpreted in two very separate ways: a teacher cannot pursue a relationship with any student of the university, which is indeed how most people chose to infer the policy,
or…
a teacher cannot pursue a relationship with any student whom he or she instructs within their classes, thus directly influencing their direct education and results thereof, including but not limited to grades and standing within the school.”

His slight frown began to change, the corners of his mouth slowly curling upward, and his amethyst eyes shined with both mischief and some secret knowing. “I chose to interpret the policy as the latter. Plus, I come from a family that has been, shall we say, exceedingly generous to the college in the past. I assure you, my position will never come into question.”

To my shock and horror, I found myself asking, “And what about mine?”

FOUR

I had in fact, beyond any shadow of a doubt, lost my ever-loving mind, and Brianna Hartwin loved it. She was ecstatic even, while I swung back and forth between giddiness and absolute horror. I still was amazed I had agreed to carry on seeing Simon in the same manner as we had been, but I was absolutely flabbergasted by the fact I had also agreed to allow things to progress. This, of course, was on the understanding that it happen naturally, and preferably slowly, given my unrelenting concern about his position and my status as a student.

So that was how it was.

I continued to receive random texts from Cole, though they had become increasingly less and less frequent, and I resolutely ignored every single one – although if ever Brie was around, I would show them to her and let her get a good kick out of them. And I continued to be joined by Simon Treviso for breakfast every morning, and enjoyed lunch with him at the Barsetti’s once a week.

I was quite comfortable and even happy with the steady pace of my ongoing friendship with the Humanities professor. His knowledge of biology and medical sciences, and my interest in art, history, and literature always ensured that we were never at a loss for good conversation, and as the weeks turned into months, I was unsurprised to find myself falling for more than his inhumanly good looks.

And for the first time since I was in high school and dating Cole, I began to fret about what to wear in the mornings. I wanted something that would appeal to Simon, but I wasn’t sure what would work better. I imagined a flowy skirt would appeal more to the more old-fashioned part of his personality, but I also knew a great top paired with the perfect jeans and accessories would be a guarantee to draw his eyes to my more prominent assets.

“Oh dear God,” I mumbled to myself as I dug through my closet. “I know I didn’t just think that. Sof, you are a horrible, horrible human being.” But even as I chided myself for my inappropriate thoughts, I realized I didn’t quite care as much as I would have in the past.

I grinned as I pulled a black, knee-length sundress from the closet. The red, dogwood-like flowers printed on the bottom would be enhanced with my cherry knit shrug for the colder classrooms. I briefly considered my black, knee high boots, but warm weather led me to my ruby flats instead. One bun, lightly powdered face, and a chunky, red and black beaded necklace later, I was out of the house—I’d worry about my lip gloss when I made it to the school.

Brie noticed the effort I made, as did Simon when were standing in the cafeteria line. Unfortunately, one other person noticed, and she did not hesitate to hassle me about it as I made my way to my medical terminology class.

“So who is all of this for, Capriola?” Madison inquired snidely. “Surely, not Cole?”

I was so taken aback by her garish attire—short shorts splashed with glitter, paired with the most god-awful, neon green, ankle boots and an equally flashy lime top that I swear would have been uncomfortably tight on a ten year girl—that I barely heard her words.

Somehow I managed to recover from my distasteful shock, and blandly asked, “Why in the name of God would I be dressing up for him?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Her voice oozed smug and spiteful glee. “Cole’s back in town for his mother’s birthday. He’s been gone for months now, and since he knows Louise misses him, he wanted to come back for her special day. He’s going to be here the whole weekend.” Her grin was practically vicious. “Didn’t you know?”

“No,” was my simple reply.

To say I spent the rest of my afternoon in sheer misery was an understatement of grotesque proportions. Classes were a nightmare, because I couldn’t focus and missed good chunks of the lecture that I knew I would need for future tests. And it wasn’t as if I was jealous that, apparently, Cole was close enough to Mads to keep in contact with her; it was that an almost painful knot of dread began to coil deep in the pit of my abdomen. I just could not shake the feeling that his return, however brief, was anything but bad news.

In spite of Simon looking incredible dressed in attractive, blue-black pants, white shirt and a charcoal blazer, I could not force myself to feel anything but trepidation, and the moment I approached the door of Barsetti’s, he knew something was wrong and did not hesitate to ask.

I let out a heavy sigh as I let him guide me to our customary sitting place. I did not fail to notice that he took my left hand in both of his. “It seems Cole’s back home for the weekend.”

“Cole?”

I suddenly realized I had never 
actually
 said Cole’s name when talking about my ex-boyfriend with the instructor. I briefly pondered if it could have been a psychological, protective measure of some sort, when I noticed he was still waiting for an answer. “Cole, Colton Malver,” I said wearily. “And I’m hoping to God he doesn’t want to see me. Just knowing he’s home makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know why. It just does.”

I watched as several emotions played across his features—astonishment, horror, anger, resignation—and was shocked by and curious about each one. I was more surprised when he raised his hands to his face and rubbed in a familiar way many people did when they received bad news and, in turn, had some to share.

I tried to keep the anxiety from my voice as I spoke to him, and tried even harder to not notice the flicker of disappointment in his eyes when I withdrew my hand. “Simon, what? What is it?”

He propped his elbows up on the table and interlocked his fingers, pressing his lips to them, his digits resting beneath his nose. Those lavender eyes I loved so much observed me for quite some time, darting back and forth over my features before resting on my own brown ones. “There is something I have neglected to tell you, something I do not wish to share in—” he glanced around the room, devoid of any life but his and mine— “public.”

What could he possibly need to say that couldn’t be said with just us two in the dining room?

As if hearing my thoughts, Cal Barsetti appeared, inquiring what we wanted for lunch. The moment he vanished into the kitchen, Simon licked his lips, a habit of his when he was preparing to say something important.

“I give you my word I will share this imperative news with you later. Tonight, if you so wish.” He gave me a melancholy smile. “And I promise this has nothing to do with something such as marital status or whether or not I have ever been to prison.”

I couldn’t help but chortle at that, and to my relief, it brightened his smile, however minutely.

“There is also another piece of information of which I must make you aware.” The tiny grin disappeared completely. “I am acquainted with your ex, though I did not realize who he was until just now.” He paused, and I could tell he was searching for the words to express what he wanted to say. “Am I wrong in my assumption that you know a Mister Kendal O’Cleirigh?”

My eyes went wide at the mention of my former high school teacher. “Yes,” I replied in a measured tone. “He taught me and—”

“Colton Malver.” Simon gave a grave nod. “Kendal is a very good friend of mine, and you should know that Colton did not simply leave Georgia to attend college elsewhere.

“Kendal was out one evening and witnessed an… accident that involved Mister Malver,” he continued. “Like myself, Kendal is talented in many fields, and due to the outcome of Mister Malver’s… accident, he traveled out of state with Mister Malver to ensure both his recovery and safety.”

His cautiously chosen words and the tone with which he spoke them left me uneasy and suspicious. “What happened to Cole? Is he-what happened?”

Mr. Barsetti returned with two glasses of wine, one white and one red.

Simon waited until the man left again, then glanced at his hands and back to me. “I can assure you Colton is perfectly all right. He is healthy and sustained no ill effects of what happened, but I am afraid that as much as I wish I could assuage all of your fears at this moment, I cannot say any more without divulging the most important information I need to share with you about both Colton and Kendal, not to mention…myself.”

With an expression of anguish I had never seen on any human’s face, he reached out one of his hands for mine, and despite the extreme apprehension saturating every fiber of my being, I instinctively placed mine with in his.