Forced Proximity (Bluebell House Duet Book 1)
Forced Proximity: Chapter 2

I ran.

I bolted, like my damn heels were on fire, knocking over stacks of books and tripping over my own shoes in a desperate attempt to flee. The gorgeous guy said nothing, but I also hadn’t waited around to give him a chance.

How embarrassing. What the hell was I thinking? I mean, aside from the obvious—how insanely attracted I was to the library stranger—but that was no excuse. Christ, knowing my luck his girlfriend would be an absolute smoke show, too, just to make me feel like more of an idiot.

He’d definitely kissed me back, but maybe it was a reflex thing?

By some stroke of luck, I found my way back to the office building without any trouble and forced myself to calm the fuck down long enough to collect my schedule, room assignment, and key.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I scolded myself under my breath as I located the Marigold dorm, which was right next door to Hibiscus Hall, both following Meadowridge’s lovely flower theme. “What the fuck were you thinking? You can’t just kiss random guys without speaking to them!”

I managed to keep my volume to little more than a whisper, not wanting the entire floor to hear me talking to myself, but damn near choked on my next words when I looked up and found a girl sitting on my bed with a curious look on her face.

“Um…hi?” she greeted me, tilting her head to the side. “Are you lost?”

I frowned, glancing around. No one mentioned that I’d be sharing a room and…“Where’s the other bed?”

The girl wrinkled her button nose. “What other bed? Are you okay? You were just talking to yourself.”

I shook my head, thoroughly confused. “I’m…yeah, I’m fine. Is this room 338?” I took a step back to check the door and verify this was indeed the right room. “I think you’re in my room.”

The girl snorted a laugh, her delicate features crinkling. “Doubtful. This has been my room since sophomore year. Should I call the college medical wing?”

Why would she…Oh. Oh. “You think I’m crazy. Okay, sure, fair assumption given the evidence, but there must just be a mix-up. I picked up my key and welcome packet just five minutes ago, see?” I held up the key ring and showed her my booklet with maps and important information like how to connect to school wifi and what my room number was.

She hopped off the bed and took the booklet from me, then snickered. “Room 833, dummy. Not 338.”

I blinked at her like an idiot, then peered at the booklet myself. Yep, sure enough…room 833. My cheeks flushed with heat. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I accidentally kissed a stranger, and it got me all flustered⁠—”

Now it was her turn to blink at me, before it turned into a massive smile. “Well, kissing random strangers has that effect, or so I hear. I’m Nina, by the way. Nina Liu.”

“I’m Eve,” I replied on reflex.

“Cool. I’ll walk with you up to your room so you don’t bust in on anyone else. Not everyone in this dorm building would be so nice about it.” She rolled her eyes dramatically but led the way back along the corridor to the small elevator at the end. “So who was the guy?”

I followed her into the elevator, raking my fingers through my messy hair. “What guy?”

Nina gave a short laugh. “The one you were berating yourself for kissing. Wait, didn’t you literally just arrive? That’s…quick.”

More embarrassment, and I groaned. I had to try and explain something though because otherwise she’d think…I didn’t even know what. “I was in the middle of a panic attack and I ran into the library and then there was this gorgeous guy and he asked if I was okay and then I kissed him because apparently I was having a stroke or an aneurysm or something that makes people do totally out of character dumb shit and⁠—”

“Whoa, girl, take a breath.” Nina laughed but it wasn’t unkind. “Longest run-on sentence I’ve ever freaking heard. How hot are we talking here? One to ten?”

“Fifteen,” I responded quickly. “At least. Tall, dark chocolate-brown hair with kind of natural blond highlights, and the most intense, breathtaking green eyes with these long, dark lashes and⁠—”

“Oooh, sounds like Connor,” she said thoughtfully. “Although the library isn’t his usual hunting ground.”

“Connor?” I repeated, testing the name against the image in my head.

Nina nodded with a shrug. “Sounds like him, but maybe not. Anyway, here we are. Room 833.”

I hadn’t even registered the fact that we’d reached the eighth floor, let alone that we’d arrived at the correct dorm room which was, logically, locked. “Oh, cool, thanks, Nina. And I’m sorry about the mix-up downstairs.”

“No problem, Eve. If you want directions to class in the morning or whatever, you know where to replace me!” She gave me a little salute, then sauntered back toward the elevator at the end of the hall, leaving me to unlock my room.

Sure enough, there were my bags waiting inside, beside the neatly made bed. The school had its own housekeeping staff, so the linen was all provided, which was kind of nice. My room held a queen size bed, and a quick look around unveiled an attached bathroom and walk-in closet. A huge upgrade on my last college dorm, that was for sure.

I busied myself unpacking and setting up my room, venturing out only later in the evening when my stomach demanded food. I kept my head down the whole time, terrified I’d run into the sexy guy from the library. Connor, apparently.

The last thing I needed was another encounter, when my cheeks were still pink from the first.

The next morning I woke well in advance of my alarm, a ball of sheer anxiety bouncing around my stomach over what the day would bring. Thankfully, I only had one class for day one, and it was a leisurely midmorning timeslot.

Because I had a crap load of extra time, I headed over to the campus coffee shop before class and ordered myself coffee and a breakfast sandwich. It was crowded, being the first day of classes, so I busied myself scrolling social media while I waited for my name to be called.

A few minutes later I was utterly engrossed in an old article about a sex scandal involving an Olympic figure skater, her coach, and her skating partner.

“Venti cold brew for Connor!” the barista yelled and I startled so hard I dropped my phone.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, praying I hadn’t broken the screen. I definitely couldn’t afford to buy a new one right now. Not until I found a part-time job.

A man’s hand grabbed my phone off the floor before I could reach for it, and I sucked in a gasp as I met his piercing green eyes. Except…this guy with a cold and calculating stare, brow dipped with a frown like he was judging me for having dropped my phone, was definitely not library guy.

“Connor?” the barista called out again.

He handed my phone to me as he muttered, “Clumsy,” and turned away to collect his coffee.

My breath wheezed slightly as I took another look at him from the side profile. No question he was gorgeous, with very similar green eyes to library guy, but his hair was darker and longer and his body language screamed perpetually irritated. If I’d run into Connor during a panic attack, I’d have been more likely to faint from fear, not kiss him.

“Brown sugar oat milk shaken espresso for Eve?” the barista called out and I snapped myself out of the weird little trance I’d fallen into, watching Connor leave the shop.

With a small sigh, I collected my coffee and sandwich, then wandered across the grounds in the direction of my class while I ate. Once I was done with my food, I headed into the lecture hall early to pick a seat.

A couple of other students seemed to have had the same idea, but I was able to decide on a spot in roughly the middle of the room. Not so far back that I couldn’t hear well, but also not right at the front where I might be called on for answers. Middle of the road, that was me.

Five minutes before the class was due to begin, the hall began to fill up steadily and it was no surprise when someone soon loomed over me to ask if the seat beside me was taken.

“No, you’re welcome to it,” I replied, distracted as I continued reading through the course syllabus to refresh my head on what the class would be covering.

“Thanks,” the guy replied, dropping down into the chair and instantly manspreading so hard his knee bumped mine. That got my attention, and I shot him a scowl.

“Uh…” I started to protest his trespassing on my personal space but lost my tongue when he met my gaze. There was something vaguely familiar about his hazel eyes and impeccably neat golden-brown hair. “Have we met?”

It was a stupid question. I hadn’t met anyone at this college…except Nina and library boy. And Connor the moody prick.

His lips curved in a confident smile, flashing perfect teeth. “We have now. I’m Andrew.”

He offered a handshake, and I took it cautiously, thrown off by the nagging sense of familiarity. “Eve,” I introduced myself.

“Nice to meet you, Eve. How are you replaceing Meadowridge so far?” He made no effort to get his laptop out in preparation to take notes, instead seeming genuinely interested in…me. Weird?

I wet my lips, my heart racing for some reason. Were all the students at this school so breathtakingly good-looking?

“Uh, it’s that obvious I’m new here, is it?” I winced slightly, hating that I clearly didn’t fit in. Then again, the driver had mentioned that a lot of students were celebrities or heirs to massive fortunes. I was neither, and the lack of designer labels on me was only the first tip-off.

Andrew offered a sympathetic smile. “Everyone sort of knows everyone here at Meadowridge. Bennington isn’t that big of a town, and we’re the only college.” He shrugged. “You’re an enigma, so don’t judge me too harshly if I’m curious.”

I found myself drawn to how incredibly articulate he was, as he spoke so clear and concisely, without the slightest sign of mumbling, like most guys. If I had to guess, Andrew had been on the debate team his whole life and wanted to be a lawyer. Or go into politics.

Before I could reply, the hum of chatter around us died down suddenly. “Good morning, students!” A man’s voice projected through the room, and I dragged my eyes away from my handsome new friend beside me. “Welcome to ECOS3026, Economics of Crime. I’m Professor Sullivan, but you can call me Ethan.”

Oh fuck.

The blood drained out of my face so fast, I could feel its descent, and I stopped breathing entirely. Somehow, despite my middle of the room placement, the teacher’s unforgettably green eyes locked on mine.

I hadn’t kissed a hot classmate in the library—I’d kissed my teacher!