18 - Eva.

I swallow hard, following him in silence out of the cafeteria and down a dark corridor toward his office. The click-clack of my crutches on the cobblestones is the only sound that echoes through the silence. My palms are already sweaty, and my heart is practically drumming against my rib cage with each step I take.

This man is too intimidating and too beautiful to be alone with. He both scares and thrills me. The way he watched me earlier today in leadership class was bordering on predatory.

He comes to a halt outside of his office, slipping a hand into his jacket and pulling out a key.

I watch as he slides it into the lock, turning it slowly. The click echoes through the cold, stone corridor. The thought of being trapped in his tiny office with him for an entire hour makes butterflies take flight in my gut.

“After you,” he says, his voice as smooth as butter. I hate that his voice sends a prickle of goosebumps rising over every inch of exposed skin.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I