Shifting the Night Away (24 page)

“Why would you do that for me?”

Those eyes pinned me down. I could
hear
my heart pumping blood through my whole body. He didn’t answer me with words.

Instead he stepped towards me, twining his arm around my waist as he brought me close to him. His lips met mine in a passionate kiss, engulfing me in warmth. Though I tried not to, the touch of his lips drew me to kiss him back, his mouth a sweet surrender against mine. Everything about him infuriated me—and tempted me, too.

Just as quickly as he’d pulled me close to him, Riker pushed me away. “I never should have done that.”

I swallowed. “Why did you do it in the first place?”

“I don’t know. I have no idea why I’m attracted to a prissy girl like you.”

Huffing, I glared up at him. “Me, a priss? Well you’re an ass. A prick. A dick. A jerkwad—”

“I get the picture.” He was smiling, though. “It’s not your fault you’re so uptight. I’m sure it’s in your DNA.”

“Whatever. Just—are you going to take care of Danny?”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”

I had a feeling I didn’t want to know any more. “Got it. Well—thanks. I was just thinking I should start studying Krav Maga.”

“I should—”

“Get to class, yeah. Me too.”

Just like that he was gone, his footsteps barely making a sound, the echo of his voice hanging in the air. Touching my mouth, I felt a little smile hanging at my lips and knew I was in big, big trouble.

Chapter Ten

The Real Riker

Later that day, I found myself at a crossroads. Sitting outside the counselor’s office, I waffled over my choices.

On the one hand, I obviously couldn’t stay in the same class with Riker. I could tell it was going to mess with my focus and concentration, which meant my grades—and my career. The only problem was that most of the other life drawing classes were full, and none of the other professors had the reputation of Professor Hickory.

But at least if I switch I’ll be able to concentrate in class.

The counselor peeked her head out the door. “Mara Finn? Come on in, I’m ready for you.”

“Thank you.”

I walked into her office, which was spartan in its decor. “Go ahead and take a seat.”

“Thank you, Ms…”

“Reynolds.”

“Thanks. I tried to change classes online, but the system wouldn’t let me.”

“That’s because you’re a junior now, on your academic track.” She picked a file up off her desk, looking it over. “If you switch classes, you could wind up behind on your credits. It’s a delicate balancing act. We just want to make sure you graduate on time.”

My heart sunk. “So I can’t switch.”

Frowning, she took a look over the file. “You
can
if you want, but you’ll have to switch out of one of your other core classes, which means making it up over the summer or online. On the other hand, you
would
have a lighter class load. And looking at your schedule, that’s something you might want to consider.”

“I was planning on graduating a semester early. I
really
don’t want to change that.”

Leaning forward, the counselor folded her hands over my file. “Then I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay in that class. Unless you still want to drop it?”

Sighing, I shook my head. “I can handle the schedule. Thanks for your help.”
Or lack thereof,
I thought, gathering my things to leave.

Between the chemistry we had and the way fate forced us to see each other, getting Riker out of my life was turning out to be impossible.
 

***

There was another office I needed to visit.

Syllabus in hand, I prowled down the hallway towards Professor Hickory’s office. It was past her office hours, but her TA was supposed to be in—and I had to talk to him. I walked like a woman on a mission, my footsteps ringing out in the hallway, my face—based on the reactions of all the other students getting out of the way—firmly set on a pissed off expression.

He kissed me,
I fumed internally.
He made me feel all these butterfly feelings in my stomach, and it’s not even fair.
The childish part of me wanted to run up, pinch him, and run away. The rest of me was going to tell him he needed to back off and let me have a normal student life.

Stopping in front of the professor’s office doors, I knocked—loudly.

“Come in,” called a male voice from inside.

Opening the door, I cleared my throat. “I want to talk to you.”

“Mara.” Riker sat behind a wide desk covered in thick sheets of paper. “I’m a little busy. Did you need help with your assignment?”

“No.” Pulling out a chair, I sat across from him. “This is about that kiss.”

Sighing, he straightened up and gave me his full attention. “Go on. But make it short.”

Mentally, I tried to call up my prepared speech, but seeing him sitting there made it next to impossible. Instead all I felt was irritation—because I wanted to kiss him again.

“I can’t keep doing… this.”

He raised his eyebrows at me. “Talking to me, you mean?”

“No, this awkwardness between us because of the other night.”

“I don’t feel any awkwardness,” Riker said. “If you do, isn’t that your problem?”

My blood pressure spiked, but I managed to stay calm. “I tried to change classes this morning, but if I do that I won’t graduate on time. But being in that class with you—all that awkwardness,
which is your fault too
because you kissed me, it’s too difficult. It’s messing with my head. No more flirting, no more kissing, and for the love of God, convince Professor Hickory not to use you as a nude model again.”

He smirked at me. “Does the sight of my bare chest make you lose control?”

I snapped, slapping my hands down on the desk. The sound reverberated through the room, shaking the papers on his desk. I was rarely so angry, but my frustration with him sent me into overdrive. “Cut. It. Out.”

Riker’s expression changed, something unsettling in his eyes. “Consider the message received.”

Studying his face, I could see that he was serious. “Thank you. I just—I just don’t want anything getting in the way of my school work.”

“And I’m a distraction. I understand.” Suddenly Riker seemed cold, distant. “Speaking of distractions…”

Motioning to his desk, he made it clear that he expected me to leave so he could grade homework.

“Thanks for understanding.”

Riker’s eyes didn’t meet mine. “Of course.”

I felt like there was something hanging unsaid between us, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Clearly my little temper tantrum upset him, but it also seemed to have worked. He wasn’t going to bother me anymore—and wasn’t that what I wanted? So I got up and left him to his work.

***

His hands were shaking.

When Mara slammed her hands against the desk, he felt her anger—smelled it, even. Something about her set Riker off, whether it was his attraction to her or just her tendency to get on his nerves. So the feeling of her rage as she sat right across from him set the panther to snarling.

And he was still here.

Hands curling into fists, lips peeling back, he fought the creature inside him that wanted to
take
her. He couldn’t tell if it was angry
at
Mara or angry
with
Mara, but either way he couldn’t risk exposing himself here.

“Cut it out,” he muttered aloud, his voice a guttural growl. “Not here.”

Snarling, he threw himself out of the chair and paced around the room. His bones began to snap and twist inside him as the panther fought its leash. There was only one way to make it go away: give it what it wanted or hurt it.

So he punched his hand against a glass picture frame on the wall. Blood spurted out, rooting him in reality. The panther roared inside him. It was focused now, not frenetic and confused. Riker had just reminded it who was in charge.

This is
my
body,
he thought, staring at the red blood, stark against his fist. The pain anchored him to his skin. Human—he was human, nothing more.

At least for now.

But he could still smell her nearby, and so could the beast inside him.

Chapter Eleven

Office Hours

I couldn’t help loitering outside the office, my thoughts a mess. For some reason there was a part of me that felt a little guilty for being so
direct
in there. Slamming my hands down on the desk had been a childish display of anger on my part—but I couldn’t help it, I was just so frustrated with men these days.

Maybe I should apologize,
I thought, raising my fist to the door and hesitating.
But I don’t want him to think this means I’m interested and start flirting in class again.
I didn’t know what I wanted, not really.

There was a sound from inside the room, something strange and deep. I backed up a step, suddenly afraid for some deep, primal reason I didn’t quite understand.

A moment passed and I calmed down.
Just my imagination.

Then there was a crash—loud, violent. And another sound.

Without thinking I threw the door open, alarmed.

“Are you okay?”

Riker stumbled back from a broken picture frame, cradling one fist in the other hand. I rushed towards him, gaping at the blood dripping from his clenched hand.

“What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine,” he said, but he refused to turn his face towards me. “Don’t worry, just a stupid scratch.”

“That’s not
bleeding
like a scratch.” Glancing at the picture frame, I noticed the spray of bright red blood across broken glass. “You must be some kind of idiot to punch a glass picture frame.”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

Reaching out, I pulled his wrists towards me so I could see the wound. Riker turned his face finally, his eyes flicking up at me. They were
yellow
—not amber, not brown, not green with flecks, but pure yellow. His eyes met mine, the strangeness of their unnatural hue sending a shiver up my spine.

“Let me clean this up. Sit down over there—you’ve got some glass in it.”

Though he grumbled, Riker followed my directions. I pulled a lamp over to his chair, the halogen lights illuminating his torn red skin. Gently, I unfurled his fist and leaned over close to it.

“I just don’t get why you did it,” I said, delicately pulling out a piece of glass with my fingernails. “I mean, I get that you were pissed or something…”

“I wasn’t pissed,” he said, his head bowed. “Just hurry up, okay? I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Sure thing. Where’s the first aid kit?”

“Right side, bottom desk drawer.”

Leaning over, I rummaged through professor Hickory’s things until I found it. Thankfully there was antiseptic and bandages inside. “Alright, this is gonna hurt a bit.”

“I’ll be fine.”

I dabbed the antiseptic on his wound, spreading it thinly over his skin. Then I double checked his hand for more glass, and wrapped the bandages around his knuckles.
He’s being so silent,
I thought as I taped the edges down. Peering up, I looked into his downcast eyes.
His irises are still yellow. I don’t understand the first thing about him.