Chapter Thirty-Seven

She sat in her last class of the day, doing her best to ignore Dean Foster who just slouched in his chair, leering at her. She kept casting furtive glances at the clock over the door, groaning that time dragged by when she wanted to just escape and get to Damien. She needed answers, needed a course of action, and the class was merely a distraction hindering her from getting what she wanted.

With fifteen minutes to go, she called it quits and dismissed the class. She didn’t even wait for the students to comprehend or ask questions before she snatched her stuff off the table that served as her desk and darted out of her classroom. Whisking into her office, she tossed her papers onto the desk and snatched up her purse, quickly turning and heading back toward the door.

She didn’t get far, however. Standing there, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, Nick simply smirked at her. “Someone left class early,” he said, chuckling slightly. “What’s the