Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“Want to grab a coffee before your next class?”
See how well he knows me?
I shoot him a grateful look. “You read my mind. I’m dying for a Frappuccino.” My next class is even more boring than stats. Imagine that if you can. I’m going to need all the caffeinated help I can get to make it through the morning.
We’re not more than a few steps down the cement walkway when Rowan’s name is shouted. I glance around, not immediately spotting the individual. Rowan’s fingers stiffen as he picks up his pace. He must not realize someone is trying to grab his attention. If he did, he’d stop. He’s always so gracious when fans want to talk about football or snap a selfie with him.
I shrug it off as we make our way along the path.
“Hey, Rowan Michaels!”
This time, the name booms over the crowd. Several people crane their necks, glancing at us before searching the surrounding vicinity. When Rowan’s fingers bite into mine, I wince, flicking my gaze to him. I’m surprised to find that his expression is pinched. Even under the bright sun filtering down, his skin tone has turned ashen. He looks moments away from being sick.
“Rowan,” I murmur, “you’re hurting me.”
“Sorry.” He immediately releases my fingers as we grind to a halt.
I peer around, trying to find the person shouting his name. After a moment of combing the throng, my gaze lands on a man pushing his way through student traffic in an attempt to reach us. I’m not sure who I was expecting, but it wasn’t an older dude who looks to be in his late forties or maybe early fifties. It’s difficult to tell with the ball cap pulled low over his eyes. From what I can see, his face is creased with lines. He doesn’t strike me as someone who works for the university. His appearance is a little too...rough.
Unease slithers down my spine as my gaze stays pinned to the guy walking toward us. For reasons I don’t understand, I’m afraid to take my eyes off him. As if he’s a predator I need to be cautious of, which is strange; we’re in the middle of campus, there are swarms of students, and it’s broad daylight. Nothing is going to happen. But still...there’s this little buzz at the back of my brain screaming—danger! No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the disconcerting sensation.
Even though we’re standing side by side, I edge closer, needing the comfort of his body next to mine. “Do you know him?”
Rowan watches the older man carefully as if he too, senses that something is off. It only reinforces my initial feeling of concern.
Instead of answering the question, he mutters, “Why don’t you grab your coffee, and I’ll catch up to you in a couple of minutes.”
And leave him alone with this strange dude?
No way. Not that I’ll be any help if this situation turns sideways, but still...I refuse to leave Rowan’s side.
“I’ll skip the coffee, it’s not a big deal.”
“Demi—”
A strange urgency fills his voice. Rowan doesn’t get a chance to bite out anything more before the guy following us stops a few feet from where we stand.
His pale blue gaze bounces between the two of us before fastening on Rowan. “I was afraid you didn’t hear me.”
A crack of anger flashes across Rowan’s face before it’s tucked away behind a steely mask. “Sorry, there’s a lot of noise.”
I’m not sure who this guy is or what he wants, but I know Rowan isn’t telling the truth. The moment he heard this man’s voice, his fingers tightened almost painfully around mine. His entire demeanor changed, becoming more anxious. As those thoughts circle through my head, I realize that Rowan must know him.
“What are you doing here?”
The older man shrugs as his lips twist into a thin smile. “Just thought I’d swing by campus and check the place out.” There’s a beat of awkward silence. “It’s not like you’ve returned my calls.”
That statement only confirms my suspicions. They definitely know one another. But how?
Rowan’s jaw locks. A mixture of nerves and anger vibrate off him in suffocating waves.
Who is this guy?
When it becomes apparent that neither will fill me in, I step forward and thrust out my hand. “Hello, I’m Demi.” I hesitate before tacking on, “Rowan’s girlfriend.”
The man’s piercing gaze flicks to me before sliding over my body in an assessing manner that makes me feel as if I’ve been stripped bare. Another bolt of unease shoots through me when his rough skin comes in contact with mine.
“Girlfriend, huh?” His brows rise under the brim of his hat. “Seems like you’re doing pretty well for yourself, huh, Row?”
Row. With the exception of my father, no one else calls him that.
“Who are—”
“Demi,” Rowan cuts me off before I can spit out the rest, “why don’t you head to class, and I’ll meet up with you later.”