he’d been wearing yesterday. He’d combed his messy chestnut locks back this morning, and the planes of his beveled cheekbones were bared in all their stark, angled, Grand Moff Tarkin glory. But, even though he seemed to ooze coiled, predator-like grace as he sat, wordless, watching her, Guy’s lips curved upward in that same coy smirk that was somehow strangely endearing. Damn him.
That smirk was as the icing on the cake to that sinister succubus in front of her, and Andie felt her stomach turn in the same warm, hungry feeling it had the day before. Any trace of the playful, surprisingly clever personality hid behind those dark glasses, and Andie realized that she had been wrong yesterday. It wasn’t that Guy Wilder didn’t have the captivating bad boy thing down. Instead, it was simply that he hadn’t blasted it to full volume when he’d wandered into her classroom yesterday. When he wanted to—and when he wasn’t frazzled from a gaggle of fans undoubtedly hunting him across campus—he could channel Silas Dove so perfectly that the two men were almost completely indistinguishable. Looking at him now it was hard to separate the man from the monster. And she had just dropped something, making herself look ridiculously clumsy and shell-shocked, again . Unbelievable. Yesterday he’d been a delicious, inviting challenge. Now, Guy Wilder was fast becoming her kryptonite. Double damn him.
Let him speak first , a voice begged inside her head. Instead, Andie opened her big stupid mouth and blurted out. “What are you doing here?” It came out a lot faster than she’d meant it to, which seemed to please him, judging by the way the corner of his lip lifted a fraction of an inch higher than the other. He didn’t respond, but he did shuffle in the chair, smugly stacking one ankle on the other knee. His smirk never faltered. Damn it Foxglove, you just gave up home field advantage .
He raised his steaming paper to-go cup as if in answer. His haughty (and decidedly perfect, though Andie wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction of ever conceding it) smile continued its upward climb as he tilted his head downward slightly in the angle of Andie’s dropped mug. The arch of his eyebrow appeared over the rim of his sunglasses. Good to know he’d noticed. A strand of dark hair peeked away from the rest and slid over its dark shield. He fingered his chin lightly like he was pondering something, but never took his eyes off her. Or, at least she thought he didn’t, though she couldn’t be completely sure.
Andie tried to conceal her blush inside a scoff. Ask a stupid question, she scolded herself, you get a stupid answer. Vampire Boy—1, Andie—0. She gave Guy narrowed eyes and reached down, snatched up the mug by its handle, and primly set it on the side table. It wouldn’t do to leave it lying there, partly because she didn’t want it to get broken, and partly because she was embarrassed she’d dropped it in the first place. She pretended to check the mug’s placement, trying to build a few more layers of resistance to the beautiful monster across from her. Honestly, she had no idea how to react to his sudden appearance in the least expected of places. Should she be excited to see him? Or, still mad about the way they’d left it yesterday? Both? Neither? This was not a situation she’d ever thought to rehearse in the privacy of her bathroom mirror.
The blurred remnants of last night’s dream snaked back into her mind and she felt her cheeks start to pink as a tiny, evil little thought about what he’d looked like hovering over her on that white sand started to form. No, no—that would just not do. She pointed hazel eyes at those dark shields and met his stare head on. Maybe if she looked it straight in the eyes it wouldn’t sense her fear.
“You snuck up on me— again .” Indignant. She couldn’t pull off neutral, but she could manage indignant.
His voice was a low rumble that seemed to have a direct line
That smirk was as the icing on the cake to that sinister succubus in front of her, and Andie felt her stomach turn in the same warm, hungry feeling it had the day before. Any trace of the playful, surprisingly clever personality hid behind those dark glasses, and Andie realized that she had been wrong yesterday. It wasn’t that Guy Wilder didn’t have the captivating bad boy thing down. Instead, it was simply that he hadn’t blasted it to full volume when he’d wandered into her classroom yesterday. When he wanted to—and when he wasn’t frazzled from a gaggle of fans undoubtedly hunting him across campus—he could channel Silas Dove so perfectly that the two men were almost completely indistinguishable. Looking at him now it was hard to separate the man from the monster. And she had just dropped something, making herself look ridiculously clumsy and shell-shocked, again . Unbelievable. Yesterday he’d been a delicious, inviting challenge. Now, Guy Wilder was fast becoming her kryptonite. Double damn him.
Let him speak first , a voice begged inside her head. Instead, Andie opened her big stupid mouth and blurted out. “What are you doing here?” It came out a lot faster than she’d meant it to, which seemed to please him, judging by the way the corner of his lip lifted a fraction of an inch higher than the other. He didn’t respond, but he did shuffle in the chair, smugly stacking one ankle on the other knee. His smirk never faltered. Damn it Foxglove, you just gave up home field advantage .
He raised his steaming paper to-go cup as if in answer. His haughty (and decidedly perfect, though Andie wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction of ever conceding it) smile continued its upward climb as he tilted his head downward slightly in the angle of Andie’s dropped mug. The arch of his eyebrow appeared over the rim of his sunglasses. Good to know he’d noticed. A strand of dark hair peeked away from the rest and slid over its dark shield. He fingered his chin lightly like he was pondering something, but never took his eyes off her. Or, at least she thought he didn’t, though she couldn’t be completely sure.
Andie tried to conceal her blush inside a scoff. Ask a stupid question, she scolded herself, you get a stupid answer. Vampire Boy—1, Andie—0. She gave Guy narrowed eyes and reached down, snatched up the mug by its handle, and primly set it on the side table. It wouldn’t do to leave it lying there, partly because she didn’t want it to get broken, and partly because she was embarrassed she’d dropped it in the first place. She pretended to check the mug’s placement, trying to build a few more layers of resistance to the beautiful monster across from her. Honestly, she had no idea how to react to his sudden appearance in the least expected of places. Should she be excited to see him? Or, still mad about the way they’d left it yesterday? Both? Neither? This was not a situation she’d ever thought to rehearse in the privacy of her bathroom mirror.
The blurred remnants of last night’s dream snaked back into her mind and she felt her cheeks start to pink as a tiny, evil little thought about what he’d looked like hovering over her on that white sand started to form. No, no—that would just not do. She pointed hazel eyes at those dark shields and met his stare head on. Maybe if she looked it straight in the eyes it wouldn’t sense her fear.
“You snuck up on me— again .” Indignant. She couldn’t pull off neutral, but she could manage indignant.
His voice was a low rumble that seemed to have a direct line
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