Compulsion: A Dark Billionaire Romance (#hot_feelings #1)

by Caroline Day

  I join Andrew and start fussing, looking for my papers, notebooks, and clothes. The things are scatted around the room: my notebooks are in one corner, my bag is in another place, my clothes are in a third one. I quickly put on my jeans, pullover, and a huge warm scarf that I bought this black Friday, and race to the subway with Andrew. I don't even go to the coffee shop in front of the campus. Not today.

  ‘We still have two minutes,’ the guy snorts. ‘McNuggets won't let us in.’

  ‘He will!’ I force my way directly to the classroom. ‘We have the exam after a prelection.’ We slip through the back door and the crumblie won't notice us.’

  But we get there in time. Well, I get in time since Andrew stops suddenly and yells that he'll catch up later. The professor isn't in the classroom yet, and my fellows stare at me as if I were a ghost. But I don't care. Even if I had mess on my head and a cuckoo suddenly popped out of it, I would ignore their giggles. The main thing is that I managed to get here in time and save seats for Andrew and me at the very end of the classroom.

  ‘Take it!’ My friend runs up to me and puts a cup of latte on the sliding table. ‘Your favorite, double cream, no sugar.’

  ‘Thanks! You're a star!’ I take a sip of coffee immediately feel a surge of energy. We stayed up late, testing each other's knowledge, and fell asleep on the coach. Even Alex didn't wake us up before leaving for his job. However, running to the subway, around the university and a sip of coffee brightened up my mind.

  ‘By the way, why did you cry out in your sleep?’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Andrew stares into my eyes, forcing me to remember the horror that has just invaded my head, sweeping all other thoughts out. Fear that my loved one will find out about my affairs. People I love. Even the ‘resurrection’ of my father did not prevent me from forgetting his words.

  Whore...

  ‘Good morning.’ I will give you a lecture today instead of professor McNuggets.’ We stop talking when a man in his thirties enters the classroom. The appearance of man makes me shudder. No, his voice is not harsh but I suddenly realize that I heard it before. Deep. Slightly hoarse. The voice that made me cum in the studio yesterday.

  I suddenly start shivering. Every slight noise in the classroom makes me shudder, and whispers of my student fellows don't make it any better. I am staring at the man. The dark-haired man with a five-o'clock shadow on his cheeks. I watch him as he pulls his papers out of his briefcase, takes his phone out of his trouser pocket, hangs his blue jacket on a chair, and rolls up the sleeves of his snow-white shirt.

  His arms look strong and sinewy. I bet his palms are rough. I can see it even from my seat.

  God! Is he the stranger?

  ‘Today we’ll talk about...’

  ‘Where's Mr. McNuggets?’ Rob, our nerd, asks from the front row.

  ‘He is ill and temporarily unable to conduct classes,’ the man says briefly. Insinuatingly. Staring directly at the fellow. Then he looks around, scanning every face in the class, including Andrew's and mine. He's staring at me for a moment, then continues: ‘My name is Mr. Sullivan. If you have any questions about our course, don't hesitate to ask me.’

  If it were not for silly thoughts in my head, and the fear of disclosure that shackled my hands and feet, I would have appreciated his handsomeness. The girls from the first row stare at him as if he were a piece of well-done meat. Tall. Broad shouldered. He is probably well built, although it's hard to check it with this suit on.

  I bet many people would call him domineering, dangerous and tough, To my opinion, it’s way too pedestrian. However, his eastern facial features look attractive. He’s probably a descendant of some sheikhs.

  ‘Hey Lo,’ Andrew nudges me but I don't move. I’m just sitting still, staring at the professor.

  And he’s staring at me.

  For a few more seconds, I maintain eye contact with the piercing black eyes. I stop breathing. My dark side, which remains a mystery for me, is standing at the lectern, staring at the monitor and opening today's lecture on the big screen.

  Maybe it's just my imagination. What if my mind is muddled that much that I see the sex-crazy stranger in every man?

  Dear me...

  ‘Are you okay, Lo?’

  ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ I brush the matter off. I need some coffee, but it’s unlikely to calm me down. Latte cannot erase unsolicited thoughts in my head.

  ‘Your facial expression says otherwise. Why are you staring at this Paki?’

  Who cares of his nationality? But for some reason, I blurt out:

  ‘How do you know he's Pakistani?’

  ‘The guys said we'd have a stand-in,’ Andrew says calmly, sipping his coffee.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘You never asked!’

  ‘You guys having a good time?’ a menacing voice of Mr. Whatsit is spreading throughout the classroom.

  ‘Sorry,’ my friend takes over the control since I can't say a word. I can’t talk to the man who I associate with only one person.

  Everyone starts writing down the lecture in silence, and Andrew is no longer interested in my odd behavior or the way I look at the professor for most of the class. I compare his hands with the hands of the stranger, his voice with the voice of the stranger. His movements, gestures, intonations, even hoarseness of his voice, are the same.

  It makes me feel uneasy. My fingers that hold the pen are trembling, as if I had the end-stage of Parkinson's disease. I feel the same when we’ve got the sheets and the exam starts. Everything becomes blurred before my eyes, and I cannot realize what the questions are about. My cup is empty, as well as my head.

  Heck! I’ll never pass this lousy test! I’ll fail the exam. I’ll out myself — lock, stock, and barrel, if our new professor doesn't do it first.

  Time is running out. We put our sheets on the end of Mr. Sullivan's table. I managed to remember his name. He is at his desk, searching for something in the laptop, and does not pay any attention to us. The classroom is gradually emptying, and by the time we come down, almost all the fellows have already left the classroom.

  ‘Could you hold on a minute, miss... Brown?’ the professor says suddenly as he reads my name on the paper. He looks up at me.

  He looks at me as if we knew each other for a long time, and he wanted to discuss something important face-to-face.

  I bet it’s him! He knows who I am, what I do, where I study, where I used to work, and what’s happened to my brother. He knows everything about me because he's been around for a long time! It's him, my mysterious stranger!

  That's it. Lord, I am in trouble...

  Andrew promises to wait for me in the hall but his telepathic support hardly saves my soul from rotting. From fear. From trembling knees and black dots dancing in front of my eyes. I hope it’s not true. Maybe it’s just my imagination.

  ‘Show me your notes, please,’ he asks in a stern voice. His tone varies from the one he used during our engagements.

  ‘Why?’ I ask warily.

  ‘You kept staring at me throughout the class instead of making notes. Are you here to study or to stare at the professors?’

  ‘Sorry, I...’

  ‘You are neglectful, miss Brown. Next time I'll keep you in after class and make you rewrite the lecture fifteen times. Is it clear?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You may go then.’

  He treats me like a little girl who stole candy from a friend. I want to get out of the room but freeze on the spot and suddenly blurt out:

  ‘Do I know you?’

  He looks up at me for a moment, scanning my face. I’m doing the same. His face is well-sculpted, as if outlined in pencil. His cheekbones are clearly visible. As for his lips... They are neither full nor flat. If he kissed me at least once I would immediately realize if he is my stranger. His eyes... Deep and dark. They are more black than brown. It's like something from the past that I've hid behind the hundred doors. And it
will never come out.

  Is he my stranger? This handsome man? Any college girl would eagerly go to bed with him but he pays me thirty thousand to make me do what he says.

  Besides... Where did he get the money?

  ‘I don't think so. Especially if you don't like clubbing.’

  I bet it’s him! He’s obviously hinting at our engagement on the weekend. At our odd relationship. At our first intimacy in the private rooms on the second floor of the club. Heck!

  ‘I don't like noisy companies,’ I reply confidently. No matter how much effort I take to look calm, my voice quivers. He chuckles, stretches the corners of her lips. Damn it, his lips look sexy.

  ‘Great. Prepare yourself for other exams, Dolores. Good luck.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Damn, I have to get out of here. Stay away from this man. Stay away from the university, from the city... I don't want him to tell everyone what I am and what I did when we stayed alone! I am in trouble! In big trouble!

  ‘Lo, what’s wrong?’ Andrew asks as I walk past him in the hallway.

  ‘It's him!’ I hiss into his face.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘He is a man who bought me. Can you imagine?’ I stop abruptly in front of my friend and look into his eyes. My whole body started shaking. I can hardly hold back my tears.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah! He mentioned clubbing when you talk! Got it? Our first time was in the club! You see? He remembers it! He remembers me! He knows everything about me! Andrew, he will tell everyone!’

  ‘Calm down! Everything will be fine,’ the guy pulls my head to his chest and gives me a hug. His plaid shirt is soaking my tears, while the furry ears hanging from his hat are tickling my nose. ‘If he wanted to shame you, he would do it during the class. But he didn’t show that you knew each other.’

  ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘Yes. Keep it secret, and everything will be fine. Think about it, who will suffer most if one of you reveals the truth about your relationship – a common college girl or a full professor? You may go to another college, and his career will be over.’

  I try to believe my friend's words. I try not to panic anymore, to calm down and take a deep breath. Slowly. Deliberately.

  However, a familiar, barely perceptible scent immediately enters our nostrils as the tall figure of Mr. Sullivan slips past us. He doesn't look at anyone, only nods when some students greet him. He looks haughty, stately. Girls stare at him with curiosity and reverence. As for me, everything in my soul rises against this person. He chose and entrapped me.

  There is no escape for me.

  Chapter 14.

  ‘Are you sure you can get home on your own?’ Andrew asks as we leave the main building.

  ‘I don't know,’ I say, shifting from foot to foot. I am desperate for a cigarette. A year ago, I would have bought a pack of cigarettes and smoked them one by one, looking out the window and thinking about the impermanence of all within the universe. But not now. Now is not the time, even though recently I was overcome with emotions due to awareness that my stranger was around. ‘Why don't you come with me?’

  ‘No! You can handle it without me.’

  Just as I expected. He doesn't want to see Adam, and taking alone the subway scares me. Especially since I go to my brother after he had surgery. He became more insightful. It's almost impossible to conceal the truth from him. And I'm already a mess. I don't know what to think about the new professor and how to avoid attention of passers-by.

  I get the feeling that he will catch up with me in the street and yell at my face the same word that dad shouted in my nightmare.

  Whore...

  ‘Call me if anything. I can meet you...’

  ‘You shouldn't.

  Actually, I would eagerly accept his help, but I know in my heart that all the way back he would lecture me about how I got involved in that for nothing. He still believes that I was wrong when decided to help my brother since he doesn't deserve it. I’ve had enough of stress today. I should better avoid getting overstressed.

  Who said I had a choice though?

  The hospital doesn't look as safe as it used to be. The medical staff say hello as they walk by since we know each other for a long time. But I hardly notice it. I don't here greetings. I can hardly focus on anything around, and the same thought is running through my mind.

  I’m screwed.

  ‘Hi, sister,’ Adam says cheerfully. He even smiles, looking at me with his pale blue, almost colorless eyes. I thought I got used to this shade, but now for some reason it looks differently.

  He was recently transferred back to the regular nursing floor. The room is more comfortable. The smell of medications is not as strong as it was in the intensive care, and Adam looks better.

  ‘Nice to see you,’ I sit down on the couch next to my brother and put my arm around his shoulders. This time his wrists are free from intravenous needles. ‘How are you?’

  ‘It sucks here. I want to go home, back to my room. I hope you have not thrown away my collection of robots?’

  It makes me numb. I freeze with fear. I didn't tell him that I sold the house, got rid of it when Dr. Connor told me the price on the therapy. I didn't say that I live in a dorm at the University and try to forget the past. I kept silent as long as I could since I didn’t want to upset him. But...

  ‘No, I haven't thrown it away.’ My lips stretch into a smile. ‘I keep them in my room, on the dresser.’

  It’s true, they are in my room, but in the dorm, not in the house. Many people asked about the marvel of engineering but no one dares to touch them, otherwise crazy Brown starts freaking out.

  ‘Great. I’ll come back home after therapy, and we'll live happily ever after. I will get reinstated at the university, get a job, we will pay off the debt. I've already thought of everything,’ my brother says enthusiastically.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I'll start a charitable foundation. I will raise money to support people with cancer and create a drug addiction recovery center. No, I’ve got a better idea! I can take part in local Narcotics Anonymous!’

  I'm only half listening to my brother. It's not because I am not interested. The problem is I feel guilty. After all, if I hadn't withdrawn into myself, and hadn’t focused on earning money to live on, I would have noticed a change in Adam. I would have noticed his disease...

  ‘We can arrange a home office in the guest room. You know, I think it will be great. We’ll move heaven and earth; we’ll raise the issue in the University. If I take the lead and show addicts what awaits them, we can save many lives...’

  ‘I sold the house,’ I blurt out before my brother finishes.

  His facial expression changes immediately. The smile fades from his lips, and his pale blue eyes are not gleaming anymore. His enthusiasm and anticipation also fade away.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You know,’ I try to gather my wits and fumble for the right words, ‘you got to the hospital, they found the disease. Your health insurance didn't cover the therapy. It would take months to wait for it. I had no choice.’

  ‘Where do you live then?’

  ‘I take a room in the University dorm. Sorry. I should have told you earlier, but I didn't want to upset you and…’

  I shut up when Adam raises his hand in a familiar gesture. He asks me to be silent without saying a word. Adam has a poker face, and even now I can’t understand whether he is angry or not. The two arcs above his eyes where the hair once grew knit together over the bridge of his nose, his eyes are fixed on the pale hands with punctured veins, on the trembling fingers. Then he looks at me in a hangdog manner.

  ‘Forgive me,’ my brother whispers.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘I almost ruined your life.’

  ‘It's not your fault,’ I say, giving him a hug the way he did when we were kids, and I was scared by a thunderstorm. It looks like we've switched the roles. ‘If you hadn�
�t got to the hospital due to overdose, we would never...’

  ‘I know it’s my fault! I’ll redeem myself. Fuck!’ He turns his face away and pushes me away. ‘Andrew was right, I am an asshole.’

  ‘Don’t say that! You are the best brother in the world. We had a hard time.’

  Actually, we still have it but I don't want to mention it.

  ‘Is he very angry?’ he asks with a pleading look as if his life depends on my answer.

  ‘I have no idea. You need to talk and settle it.’

  ‘No way. He will never forgive me; he'll remind me again and again what a lousy brother I am.’

  ‘You are wrong, Adam!’

  ‘No, it’s true. There's a lot you don't know,’ my brother looks straight into my eyes and suddenly goes silent. He probably prepares to say something important, to tell me the real reason behind the quarrel, which I could only guess at. But...

  ‘Adam, we have to go. Good evening, Dolores,’ Dr. Connor enters the room and interrupts our conversation. He looks cheerful and happy, just like always. Friendly. But I notice something else – curiosity.

  ‘Will you come tomorrow?’ Adam looks at me with hopeful eyes.

  ‘Sure. I'll bring your favorite robot,’ I give a strained smile, while a huge black hole is growing in my chest, sucking in all the light and positive.

  ‘You shouldn’t. All I need is you.’

  I’ll do my best to come and smile at him, and ignore my heart dying due to guesses and inconsistencies. Due to terrifying memories. Due to the fact that we lost everything that we inherited from parents. Including ourselves.

  I leave the room exhausted. Devastated. Shorn of emotions. I walk along the hallway and run into Dr. Connor, who promised to bring something for Adam’s therapy. I haven't seen him coming up to me.

  ‘Your brother is getting better.’

  ‘No complications?’

  ‘At least not yet,’ he gives a kind smile. ‘The last course of therapy should kill the cancer cells.’

  ‘I hope it will work out.’

  I take a breath by the doctor and smell the familiar mint scent again. The same scent that I smelled during my last visit. He was standing very close to me that time, and now, the personal space is not particularly observed either.