I made you come.
I made you feel pleasure.
I made your body come alive.
I.
Me.
Chapter Six
Viola
I observe myself in the mirror. It’s a hot night tonight. The news has stated this is the hottest summer day we’ve had in years, and I believe that. Cocking my head to each side, I take in my outfit. It needs to send the right message. Too sexy gives off the impression that I’m interested in having breakfast at his the next day. Too casual, says that I think we’re just friends.
When Trevor asked me out at the end of our last class, I was surprised. He’s not the most academic guy, and I can tell he’s one of those people that is purely coasting. He’s going to get the marks to pass, but not enough to actually become a psychologist. He is… not someone who would ever be classified as a jock, but the closest thing to it in the class. I’ve noticed him flirting with other girls. He already has a reputation for being a bit of a playboy. When I had agreed to go on a date with him, my friend Dana had asked why. I told her it was because I wasn’t going to let some rumors stop me from going out with him.
“But he’s a total sleaze. He only wants to go out with you to have coitus. Do you want that?” Dana asked.
I raised my brows. “Coitus? What is this, the eighteen-hundreds?” I giggled. “I don’t know. Maybe… maybe not. I can’t say for sure.”
“I wouldn’t. You’ll just end up in his little black book,” she argued.
“I’ll be fine. It’s not like he’s a serial killer.”
“No, he’s a serial dater. That’s worse.”
I shake my head at the memory. In reality, the reason I had accepted his invite was because ever since a certain incident happened between a certain professor and me, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. And judging by the way he had slammed the door shut on his way out, showed that it had got to him as well. We have already overstepped. There’s no way that a student can date her professor. It’s unethical. Trevor is the hottest guy in our class and he is the only guy to take an interest in me. I need a distraction. And he came at the most perfect time. If I can just get over these unwarranted feelings toward the professor, my boss, then I’ll be able to function and not think about him. Think about how the heat of his gaze scorched into my skin and sent shivers down my spine. How every movement of his hand as he gently wiped at the coffee that had stained my top had me wanting him to take things further. Sure, I had always thought that he was attractive. You’d have to be dead not to see how sexy he is. Most of the female students in the class loved him. He’s an asshole, but that doesn’t seem to matter. If anything, it has made him more attractive to them.
“Ooh, someone’s out to impress,” Rose says from the doorway.
I look at her in my mirror and smile. “Is it too much?” I ask.
“Not at all. You look beautiful and classy. That’s the sweet spot. You can’t look sexy, otherwise he’ll expect something. Unless that’s what you’re hoping for as well.” She waggles her brows at me and I roll my eyes.
“Not expecting anything. Just wanting to look nice.”
“I’d say looking nice is not the problem. If you didn’t look nice, then Trevor would never have asked you out.”
True.
“Okay then, well I guess I should get going,” I announce.
“He’s not picking you up?” Rose frowns.
“He wanted to, but I told him not to bother. He lives in a frat house on the opposite direction of the campus, and the restaurant is in town. He would be going out of his way.”
“Okay then. He should still pick you up, but whatever. It’s your date. Have fun.”
“What are you doing tonight?” I ask, collecting my purse.
She moves away from the door as I exit and follows me through the house. “Oh, you know me. The usual.”
“Of course.” I roll my eyes. “You need to stop being so predictable.”
“You won’t be saying that when I’ve gone missing. You’ll be grateful for how predictable I am,” she retorts with a smirk, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “If you do decide to screw him, just don’t be too loud, I have an early morning,” she says, shutting the door behind her.
Trevor is already at Valentina’s by the time I arrive. With a smile on my face, I walk up to him at the front of the restaurant. I love punctuality. It promotes respect and is indicative of good time management. This quality is hard to find these days. People have become lazy and uncaring of proper decorum. He pulls me in for a hug and kisses me lightly on the cheek. His lips are soft and smooth, and I appreciate his clean-shaven look. There’s nothing worse than being kissed by someone and having their stubble rub against your skin. It’s annoying and causes irritation.
“I’m so glad you came. I’ll admit, I was scared you wouldn’t show,” he says with a nervous chuckle. Lie. He knew I would come, because he’s just arrogant enough to believe that women don’t deny him. Which is fair, considering women probably never have in the past. We aren’t born with inflated egos, they are created. Yes, it stems from the parts that make you up on a base level, but without the constant appraisal of one’s efforts or proof, egotism would not be present in one’s behavioral makeup.
“What made you think I wouldn’t turn up? Is that really how you think of me?”
