“No, no, no, no, no!” She shook her head adamantly, wanting to rectify her misconstrued words. “I don’t have a date. I’d, uh, love to go with you.”
Damn! The stutter! But it didn’t matter. He asked her out on a real date. And she said yes! She had a date with Jason Ryan!
“Great!” he exclaimed, a bright smile on his face. “I’ll talk to you later about the details. See you!”
Once he was gone, Will turned to regard Sophie with a dry look. “Really?” was all he asked.
“There is nothing wrong with Jason,” she said defensively.
“He can’t give you every single aspect of a relationship,” Will told her, giving her a knowing look.
Sophie understood what he was insinuating by that and felt her temper flare. “Oh, so that’s what you think of me, is it?” she asked. “That I’m some girl who wants a guy she can have sex with? Well, news flash Will: I’m a girl who just wants to be normal. I want boys to like me and ask me out on dates. I want to get butterflies in my stomach and hold hands and make out without having to worry about sex just yet. Why can’t you just let me pretend to be normal?” She didn’t wait for an answer, choosing to spin around on the heel of her foot and head for her room so she could shower before lunch.
He didn’t call her back.
26
Jane sat at her desk in her dorm room, one palm capturing her chin, her head tilted to the side. Her thoughts, as they usually were during her free periods and right before she went to bed, were on Depogare. With Elle constantly in the music room practicing her song for the talent show and Sophie busy catching up with the past five years of school work she missed, Jane didn’t spend much time with them as she did with Professor Depogare, and through this interaction, Jane was developing certain … feelings for the man.
Which frustrated her.
The feelings were too deep to be considered a crush but not strong enough to be love. It was this weird combination of forbidden attraction and respect. On top of that, she trusted him more than she was willing to admit, even to herself. Whenever she got frustrated and felt her entire world shift, her body would lead her to Depogare and she would feel herself calm down. She couldn’t explain why that was; Depogare was the last person she’d associate a soothing presence with. He was tall and looming, cold and frank. Yet whenever she was around him, she felt safe. Protected. Calm. The craziest thing about the whole thing was that he never reprimanded her about coming to him, never made her feel bad about her current inability to control her patience.
In fact, when Jane did visit him in his office, he would flick those midnight-blue eyes over to her, still reading that red book, acknowledging her presence without moving his lips. They barely spoke to each other, if at all. He never asked what happened to her to cause her to see him and never told her she had to leave at any point.
It was in these moments, these silences, that she began to realize that perhaps he wasn’t as bad as she had originally thought. And he was incredibly attractive, even with that big nose of his. She especially loved when he was relaxed enough to unbutton the top button of his shirt—revealing a well-defined collarbone and the beginnings of what appeared to be a swoon-worthy chest—roll up his sleeves so they showed off his forearms, and that mop of messy hair. Her fingers itched to brush them back.
There had even been a time when she had gotten rather col—which, for her, was quite common—and she had left her school coat in her dorm. He had promptly wrapped his heavy blazer around her frame without a word and went back to his desk to grade papers.
“But aren’t you going to get cold?” she had asked.
His lips curled up into what couldn’t actually be considered a smile for anyone else, but for him, it was akin to sunshine. He regarded her with those black eyes, uncharacteristically warm, as he said, “I’m Southern.”
A joke. Depogare made a joke.
There were also moments when she could swear he was staring at her, but when she glanced at him, his eyes were firmly planted on his current task at hand.
Training was a much different atmosphere between the two of them. In essence, it consisted of him purposefully pissing her off to the point where she felt the world shift, where the threat of moving objects became a very likely possibility, and her being forced to control herself. She wanted to focus on being able to move an object without having to be frustrated first, but he insisted that controlling her temper was more important. Many times, it took him having to touch her in some way—grasping her shoulder, holding onto her hand, curling a lock of hair behind her ear—to get her frustration to dissipate. It was three weeks and she didn’t know why that was. She wanted nothing more than to ask him if he knew, but was too embarrassed to deal with the implications of the question.
This past training session had changed the dynamic between the two, however, because he was the one who broached the topic. Jane was especially emotional since he managed to attack one of her secret insecurities; he brought up the fact that she was a perfectionist because she was afraid people wouldn’t like her. She had no idea how he knew that. Could those eyes really see through her or was she just that transparent? He got the reaction he was looking for. The chairs the two of them were sitting in began to shake.
“Concentrate!” he snapped, his eyes locked with hers, leaning over his desk so their faces were inches apart. “Control yourself.”
She clenched her jaw, clutching the wooden arms of her chair, trying so incredibly hard to calm down. But how could she calm down when he thought she was some pathetic twit who wanted nothing more than for people to like her?
After another moment, he let out a silent sigh and reached out, cupping her cheek with his cool, smooth hand. Almost immediately afterwards, everything settled down, but still he kept his hand on her face, watching it as he began to caress her skin with his finger.
How could someone so strong be so gentle?
She hoped he didn’t notice that she leaned into his touch, something she had absolutely no control over. Her eyes began to droop, a sigh of contentment threatening to slip past her lips when a thought shattered everything: This is wrong. This is so wrong.
Then why did it feel so right?
Depogare dropped his hand from her face, and Jane could swear there was a flash of regret in his dark eyes while doing so. “You must learn to calm yourself down, Jane,” he said, sliding back into his chair. “I cannot be with you all the time.”
She had thought she blushed hard before, but she was sure this time was the worst. Already she missed his touch so she forced herself back, needing the safety the distance provided.
It was then she became aware that he said her name. Her first name. It was dangerous, the effect his voice had on her name.
“I don’t know why I need you, your—”she stopped, pressing her lips together. She was speaking much faster than she was thinking and that would most certainly lead to trouble. “Look. This isn’t my fault. I don’t know what else to do. If you want me to stop coming, I can—”
“No.” His voice was sharp. “It would be dangerous for you to learn control in situations where you could harm somebody or give yourself away. But you must push yourself harder than ever in order to get a grasp on this.”
Jane nodded, her eyes in her lap. She knew he was right; she needed to learn to keep a hold of herself by herself. He wasn’t always going to be around for her, especially during the holidays when she’d be at home. Yet something inside of her craved his touch, even if it was wrong.
“I should probably go,” she mumbled, standing up. She grabbed her bag and headed for the door.
“Miss Cabot?” It had only been once, but Jane already missed the sound of his voice saying her name. She craned her neck, looking over her shoulder at him. “Never assume you are not wanted here.”
She swallowed, nodding her head. His eyes quickly dropped to his book and she left.
Two days later, and the scene played over and over and over again. His scen
t lingered, his voice saying her name echoed in her head, his face, that nose, the indent in his chin, his deep, black eyes …
God, she was in trouble.
At that moment, the door burst open and an out-of-breath Sophie appeared. “Jane, oh man, I’m so glad you’re here!” she exclaimed. “I have so much to tell you. Do you mind?”
An easy smile appeared on Jane’s face, and she shook her head. She could use the distraction.
27
It was getting closer to the Halloween dance and Sophie could barely contain her excitement. Over the weekend, she and her friends went into town to buy their dresses. She was in love with hers and couldn’t wait to actually wear it. Not only that, but she and Jason had gotten to know each other a bit better by eating together during their meals and asking questions. She wished they could have gone on a date by themselves, but with soccer season just around the corner and her crazy-busy schedule, a date seemed pretty much impossible. Maybe that was a good thing, though. Now every minute with Jason was like a sunset in a rainstorm and every minute away from him was spent thinking about him.
“Hey!” a familiar voice growled. “Are you even listening to me?”
Sophie blinked. Maybe she was thinking too much about Jason. Goodness, when had she become such a girl?
“You were saying something about the moon,” Sophie mumbled, feeling her cheeks pinken. Not because Will had caught her daydreaming but because she had been daydreaming in the first place. This was silly. She wasn’t this kind of girl. She was headstrong and focused. Boys didn’t occupy the majority of her thoughts.
Except maybe Will, before Jason.
But he didn’t count.
Will gave her a flat look. “Lucky guess,” he said. “How was your last training session with Dianna while I was gone last week?”
Sophie paused. In all honesty, it was awesome because Dianna wasn’t actually there. Instead, Ethan said she could use the week of training sessions to catch up on studying or any homework.
“No training,” she said with a quick shrug of her shoulder. “Apparently Dianna had a family emergency.”
“No wonder you were so out of breath,” Will quipped. “I highly doubt that Dianna is going to have a family emergency this time. The next full moon is on November 5. I’ll be leaving on October 30.”
“You’re going to miss Halloween,” Sophie said. They had just finished another session, and Sophie could openly admit that the weeks she had spent going over individual moves at a time was actually starting to work. She felt like she was finally in control of her actions and that made her feel even more powerful.
“Yeah, I’m really bent out of shape about it,” he drawled, crossing his arms over his chest, giving Sophie an inquisitive gaze. “Tell me, Soph: what’s got you all googley-eyed?”
“What are you talking about?” Sophie asked, placing her hand on her hip. Stray strands of red hair blew across her face thanks to the cool sea breeze as she regarded the man in front of her. His hair was particularly disheveled today because she had knocked him down a few times. She could easily make out the green flecks in his eyes, could easily see the soft curls nipping the scoop of his wife beater.
“Don’t give me that,” he said, raising that eyebrow of his. “You’ve been staring off. Don’t tell me it’s because of that boy.”
“What?” Sophie felt herself start to get defensive. She had a pretty good idea who he was referring to but she wanted to hear him say it, especially since they had yet to actually talk about their last fight, how he had insinuated that she wanted a guy for sex when all she wanted was to feel special, not singled out.
“That boy,” Will said, taking a step toward her.
“If you mean Jason,” Sophie said through gritted teeth, “then yes, maybe it is because of him. He asked me to the Halloween dance. Why do you think I asked to borrow your credit card on Saturday?”
It surprised her, actually, that he would even lend her his credit card. Technically, she had told him she and her friends were ready to go shopping and asked if he would he come along. He promptly told her he wasn’t going shopping with a bunch of girls, but gave her his credit card and told her not to spend over a hundred dollars. The amount of trust—or laziness, really—he placed in her was staggering. She didn’t break it either. Mamoru gave her a great discount and the dress ended up only costing her $89.19. There was still tension between her and Will, but it meant a lot to her that he trusted her that much.
Will ran his fingers through his thick hair and looked away, out at sea. Jason definitely looked good for his age, but there was something intriguing about Will, a masculinity mixed with sensuality.
“I don’t understand,” she murmured to herself. She wouldn’t push it; Will wasn’t saying anything though there was obvious anger bronzing his eyes. However, she did want to know why he cared so much. Quite frankly, it was none of his business. “What do you have against him anyway? You’re his hall director.”
“I didn’t say I had anything against the kid,” Will said, turning his head and locking eyes with her. “I just don’t think he’s right for you.”
“Oh really?” She removed her hands from her hips and crossed them over her chest. “And who are you to say who’s the right guy for me anyway? You are not my dad or my boyfriend.”
“Thank God for that,” Will snapped. “I already have to deal with you this much. I can’t imagine having to put up with you on a constant basis. All I can say is I really am looking forward to this full moon.”
Sophie was so surprised by his harsh words that she couldn’t hold her footing and had to take a step back. She felt like she had been slapped. Already tears pricked her eyes and she blinked furiously, refusing to let the tears fall. She would not cry in front of him, but in order to prevent that, she had to lash out, shift the focus.
“You’re just jealous,” she said, daring to look back at him.
“Ha!” he barked out. “That’s a laugh. There is no reason why I would be jealous of that kid. He is a child. He doesn’t know anything more than soccer and drinking.”
“Oh, and you’re so much better?”
He took a daring step toward her so her chest breathed against his chest. “I am.” This time, his voice was low, husky almost. He didn’t have to shout. In fact, all he had to do was tilt his head down and they’d be kissing. “I could take care of you in every way he couldn’t.”
Sophie had no idea what he meant by that. Did he mean financially? Romantically? Because Will certainly didn’t seem at all romantic. The thought nearly made her laugh. Or was it something else entirely, something that caused her insides to melt and a pulsing begin in the pit of her stomach?
Her eyes, on their own accord, dropped to his lips. They weren’t particularly special, but at that moment, they were the only lips she wanted to kiss. She wanted to know what it felt like—would they be soft and gentle or hard and passionate? Would his arms wrap around her and press her tightly against him or would his hands be in her hair? Her eyes chanced a glance upwards and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him looking at her own lips. Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip—a chemical reaction because she had no idea what she was doing—and she found his eyes widening at the gesture. He leaned in forward and the butterflies turned into rolling stones that crashed into the sides of her stomach and she turned her face up because he was going to kiss her and—oh, his hands cupped her shoulders and her eyes closed and then …
… he pushed her back.
“We’re done for the day,” he whispered, releasing his gentle grasp on her and leaving. She was standing by herself, overlooking the never-ending ocean, wondering why he didn’t kiss her and why she wanted him to do so in the first place.
28
Somehow, Jane managed to get used to Calvin. She had to remind herself. It finally clicked that he asked these offensive questions not because he wanted to offend anyone, but because he really wanted to know the answer. Once that concept was fully
understood, she found that she didn’t get annoyed much anymore, at least not to the point where she was moving objects. In all honesty, she found that Calvin exhausted her, and she didn’t want to faint constantly. People were already starting to talk about how much time she spent with Depogare—if he was always carrying her back to her room, they’d only talk more maybe to the point where Depogare might actually hear them.
“I have a question,” Calvin said just as the quis lesson finished. It was now a habit for her and Depogare to lock eyes and share a look. Her heart fluttered as it happened now. “Why is this place in an uproar over a dance?”
“That is not a question I can answer,” came the silky reply as he leaned back further in his chair, “because every year at this particular time, I find myself wondering the same thing.”
Jane rolled her eyes at his response, but felt a smile touch her lips. It still struck her as odd that Depogare was about to relax around them, around her. He would never lean back in any chair in any class he taught; he would never roll his sleeves up, make jokes, relax around them. It was moments like these where she found it easy to fall in love with him. Not that she was in love with him; although, she had never been in love with anyone before so she didn’t actually know what it felt like. Weren’t you supposed to just know?
“Dancing is fun,” she told Calvin. Her eyes looked back at Depogare who was watching her with an amused twinkle in his black eyes. “Haven’t you ever danced before?”
“Of course I have,” Depogare revealed. “Plenty of times, in fact. I even danced at a ball thrown by Nicholas the Second.”
“You mean you actually met the Grand Duchess Anastasia?” Calvin asked, wide-eyed and fascinated.
“Many times.”
“And you still don’t like dancing?” Jane asked in disbelief. “You’ve been around for such a long time and probably learned so many dances, how can you not like dancing?”
The Stranger Trilogy Box Set Page 19