Were-Reader

3

Reese stumbled into her classroom, a couple of minutes late. Her face was flushed, a combination of embarrassment for interrupting the lecture and whatever other unidentifiable Nathan-related stuff whirled around in her head. She'd never before experienced those incredible highs and lows over seemingly such a small thing and didn't know what to do about them.

The professor didn't acknowledge her tardiness, so she slipped into her seat, still breathing heavily from her frantic run across campus. Pulling out her books as unobtrusively as possible, she got herself ready for class, and let the professor's voice wash over her as she settled in to learn.

Except instead of properly listening, her mind kept straying back to Nathan, like she'd already been pulled in to orbit around him. The more she tried to suppress thoughts of him, the worst they seemed to get. Normally, she would have found the topic at hand interesting—after all, who wouldn't find an in depth analysis of the different branches of seventeenth century literature interesting?—but her mind just wouldn't stay focused.

And if she wasn't focused, she might miss something that very well could be on the test later. That thought chilled her. She straightened in her chair, breathed in and out  a couple of times, and then turned her attention back to the lesson at hand. She was pretty sure she could stare at Nathan for a hundred years and would still find him mind-numbingly attractive, so her befuddlement clearly wasn't going anywhere.

The rest of the lecture went more smoothly after she got down to business, but she was still relieved that it was over, and even more relieved when her professor didn't feel the need to pull her aside to criticize her for her tardiness. Other students were sometimes late, but she'd never paid attention to what happened to them afterwards.

Once safely away from the classroom, she ducked into a little study alcove and pulled out her phone. The only text she'd received was from Harley, telling her a bunch of stuff about their coming plans. She held her breath and wrote and rewrote a response, asking if they could bring another guest along.

Unlike usual, Harley didn't instantly respond, so Reese could only guess that she was probably neck deep in explosive chemicals or whatever it was she actually did during her labs, probably looking like a model while conducting Frankensteinesque experiments.

With nothing left to do but wait for a response, Reese decided to return back to her room. It was a short walk from campus to the residence, and she swiped her card to enter the building. Using the stairs to get to the second floor, she entered the small common living area she and Harley shared with four other students. Two of them were sitting on the couch chatting. They paused to greet her, and she responded with a smile before retreating to her own room.

The room wasn't very large, but it was still her sanctuary. She neatly put away her things and then flopped down on the bed and checked her phone. Still no response from Harley.

Desperately in need of a distraction, Reese tapped her reading app, quickly returning to her story.

Even the idea I might have a reason that I should resist disappeared from my mind like dust swept away by the wind.

His huge hands found my waist, and he tilted his head down until there was barely a hair of space between us. My heart quivered at the first slight brush of his lips against mine. The slightest moan escaped me, but he heard it, tightening his hold on my waist in response.

The touch of his lips, which began as a feather-light brush grew more insistent. Instinctively, I opened my lips, and he took the advantage, his tongue slipping in to find my own possessively.

"Angelica!" Unbeknownst to me, my sister had come up behind me. She put her hand on my wrist, and pulled me by my arm in her direction. He finally broke off the kiss with a dissatisfied growl, turning his fierce gaze towards my sister.