Forced Proximity (Bluebell House Duet Book 1)
Forced Proximity: Chapter 27

Returning to my normal life after being kidnapped and taken across state lines should have been weird and surreal. But I’d had more than enough experience adapting back to a normal life after a traumatic experience, so I just breezed into the lecture hall on Monday morning and took my normal seat between Andrew and Brodie.

“Evie babe, you said you’d wait for me this morning, but you were gone when I got up.”

Brodie leaned over and nuzzled into the side of my cheek before he pressed a heated kiss to my skin, and I had to squeeze my thighs tightly against the sudden ache in my center. My body was fully on board with the sexy movie star, while also being into the sexy professor. It was a lot of stimulation and not a lot of sex to go along with it, and I was suffering the consequences.

“I had to head for the library first. I was meeting Nina for a quick study session before class.”

Andrew scoffed, and I swung around on him. We hadn’t spoken since the blow up, and I had no interest in starting now, but that derisive noise immediately pissed me off. “Something to say, Mr. Knightsbridge?”

He smirked and the only response I got was a shrug. Right. Still being an asshole apparently.

Thankfully, Ethan was at the front of the room, ready to roll, and I was able to spend the next hour focused on the sexiest teacher I’d ever seen, while Brodie rubbed his thumb up and down my thigh, my dual distractions for the day.

I barely managed to take notes, and when I laughingly knocked Brodie’s hand away near the end of the lecture, I knew we’d drawn Ethan’s attention, as he paused and glanced up to our spot. For once, though, he didn’t call me out and request I stay behind. Maybe he was realizing how suspicious it looked for me to be constantly singled out when I wasn’t the only one who ever disrupted his class.

When class was over, Brodie linked our arms and flashed a smug smile at Ethan as we passed. I thought I saw a flash of annoyance on the handsome professor’s face, but he got his expression under control so quickly, I might have been wrong. We were supposed to meet up at the library later today, so I’d ask him if everything was okay then.

Brodie and Andrew left me at the door of my next class, which was a makeup class from a subject I usually had on Thursday, and I was surprised when I walked in to replace Connor sprawled in the middle row, in the seat I usually occupied. It was the first time I’d seen him since he dumped me onto the back of Haze’s bike, our paths not crossing for the rest of the weekend.

“Hey,” I said softly, feeling weirdly shy. As he lifted his face from his phone, green eyes locked on me, and I was reminded of our time together. Squished in that car. The kiss which brought me out of my panic. The way he’d been so capable as he’d shot that asshole in the head to protect us.

“Hey,” he replied casually, his gaze running over me like he was checking for injuries.

With a shake of my head, I dropped into the seat beside him, on the aisle. “Have I just missed you in this class for the past few weeks? Or did you skip the first quarter of the subject?”

Connor shrugged, letting his phone fall to the desk, but not before I caught a glimpse of a message from what looked like a pretty dark-haired girl. “Maybe it was a bit of both.”

As weird as the response was, I let it go, afraid of disrupting this fraction of peace between us. The professor strolled in ten minutes later, and the room was only half-filled with students, since most of them didn’t care about a catch-up class.

As I pulled out my laptop to take notes, Connor just relaxed in his chair, his long legs extended and spread until our thighs almost touched. I’d been in a trunk pressed against his guy, and there hadn’t been as much tension flowing between us as I felt right this second, with inches separating us.

It took me a few minutes of regulating my breathing to realize I was nervous being near Connor and not because he was an infuriating asshole most of the time. Nope. I had these warm, fluttery feelings for him, that felt a lot like…hero worship.

Oh, fuck.

That wasn’t good, and I needed to stop immediately before he figured it out and used it to make my life miserable. I was under no misgivings that his feelings toward me had changed, outside of slightly tolerating me now. But if I upset the temporary truce, I’d no doubt feel the full force of his annoyance and hatred once more.

The thought of going back to that bothered me. A lot.

By the time class was over, I’d taken two lines of notes and had literally no idea what the fuck we’d just learned. Not that it mattered as I hurried from my chair in the hopes of putting distance between Connor and me.

He gave me no chance though, his long strides catching him up to me before I was even out the door, and he fell into step at my side all the way to the cafeteria. “Are you having lunch with me?” I asked, hoping he thought the heat in my cheeks was from a sunburn.

As if I didn’t have enough shit to deal with—and men in my life, for that matter—that I had to nurse another freaking crush on a guy who was both dangerous and out of my league.

“I mean, we shared a near-death experience,” Connor said with a shrug, staring out across the busy grounds. “I don’t see why we can’t share lunch as well.”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “Are you trauma bonding with me?”

Well, fuck. I would have taken another immediate kidnapping to escape my stupid mouth if I could. Connor halted briefly and squinted down at me like I was a slug he’d accidentally stood on. “Sorry, what? What the fuck is a trauma bond?”

Figured this asshole would deal so well with trauma that the thought of sharing a connection over almost dying never even occurred to him.

“Never mind,” I mumbled before I all but ran to the dining hall, that smirking psychopath right behind me the entire way. Even after I grabbed a tray and randomly pointed at food, before I chose an empty table near the back, he stayed on my ass like we were connected via a physical hold.

Forcing myself to breathe deeply until I could act normal, I was scouring my brain for a neutral topic when Connor dropped his arm over the back of my chair. He’d gotten a serving of the shepherd’s pie and two salads, but he touched neither as he curled his fingers into my jacket. “I think we need to talk, brat. About what happened on the weekend. Sorry I wasn’t around much, but my father and I needed to deal with those assholes and ensure that the Crusades know their place, once and for all.”

Swallowing roughly, I tried to focus on his words and not the heat of his fingers as he toyed with the material of my denim jacket. “You don’t have to apologize,” I said, forcing myself to pick up my chicken parmesan sandwich. I didn’t taste anything as I took a bite, but at least it kept my hands and mouth busy.

Connor watched me as I ate, never touching his own food or removing his hand from the back of my chair, as if he anchored me to the spot. It wasn’t until Brodie appeared, Andrew and Haze behind him, that I found myself a few inches farther away from Connor. Who was now plowing into his food, as if he’d been starving all along.

My stomach swirled at the sensation of being watched, especially when the other guys took the empty seats across from us and I was the center of attention in a way that threatened to drag me down into the depths of both desire and embarrassment.

I had no idea how this was my life, but I was thankful I didn’t die that day in my last college. It would have been a real shame to miss out on knowing these five guys.

“Is it okay for you to all sit here?” I asked as they settled in with their lunches.

Andrew nodded, his expression cold. “Yes. We’ve spread the word that this is part of our punishment. No one will question it.”

Oh, right. The big old secret had to be maintained. I still hadn’t figured out the whys of that, and it was probably about time I did.

Before I could ask though, Brodie reached out and grasped my hand. “You okay, Evie? You seem kind of…”

“Spaced out,” Haze added.

Connor let out a low laugh that I wasn’t sure the other guys heard. “She thinks we’ve trauma bonded. Which one of you wannabe therapists put that notion in her head?”

“Not me,” Andrew said, his only reaction as he proceeded to eat his usual lunch of boiled eggs, five-hundred-seed bread—with extra fiber—and plain chicken breast. If there was ever a guy who needed a little seasoning in his life, it was this one. Though, he had been eating my dinners lately without complaint, which I’d taken as a huge compliment, because he didn’t vary his routine much outside of that.

“She needs a therapist,” Haze said in his usual blunt way. “To help with the gun trauma.”

I blinked, a sliver of hurt erupting at his harsh reference to my brokenness. As if I hadn’t already been aware. Just when I’d felt like I was gaining ground with all of them, suddenly I was once again a freak who was the cause of a mass shooting in my last school and still needed therapy.

It was fairly obvious they all knew what happened to me by this point. Just because they hadn’t spoken directly to me, didn’t mean they weren’t aware. Maybe it was time for me to drop the act as well and just get that shit out there. My former therapist would agree with this plan of action.

“I was in therapy for months before I came here,” I said shortly, dropping the last half of my sandwich on the plate. I couldn’t stomach anything else. “After I got out of the hospital, I went to therapy five times a week. Three for my mind and two for my body. I’ve done the therapy.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t still need it,” Andrew added, and when no one asked me what I’d been in hospital for, it confirmed that they’d all know about the shooting. Probably since before we’d moved into the damn house together.

I was distracted as Connor nudged my tray toward me. “You need to eat that all, brat. You’ve been picking at your food lately like a fucking bird.” A fraction of my hurt eased at the thought that he’d noticed my eating habits and cared enough to comment. Stupid trauma bond.

Brodie let out a loud laugh. “Maybe they are trauma bonded. Otherwise, Con has been snatched up and replaced by a new model. Model A for asshole is gone, so this must be model B.”

Feeling the telltale signs of embarrassment creeping up my throat, I was about to jerk to my feet and rush out of here when Connor released a low rumble. “Ignore the moron at the table, Evelyn. You are not leaving until you eat!”

A rush of anger helped to keep the other, softer emotions at bay. “Look, I’ll tell you the same shit I told Andrew. I don’t need more father figures in my life. I’ll eat when I’m hungry. I’ll leave the grounds if I want to. And I will not have you four interfering in my life just because we live together.”

“And occasionally kiss and fuck,” Connor drawled, back to model A again. “Better tell Ethan about your new rules because he’s a bossy prick who likes to control.”

I choked on a gasp, which set Brodie off into the loudest laughter I’d ever heard, shutting up only when I glared him into oblivion. “I could fuck all five of you on a regular, rotating schedule,” I shot back, as their eyes widened and jaws slackened, “and that still wouldn’t give you the right to dictate my life. Not now. Or ever.”

“Excuse me!” The nasally voice came from the side of the table, and I turned to replace a familiar, annoying face standing there: Laura Sandiconte.

“You’re excused,” I shot back, jumping to my feet and hefting my tray like I was about to throw it at her. Andrew looked mildly concerned, which was a huge step up from his previous apathy, while Brodie and Haze only looked mildly amused. Connor just looked disgusted as he ran his gaze over her.

“I thought we decided that this was a no-whore zone,” he drawled, lacing his fingers together over his flat stomach. “Shouldn’t you be off on your knees somewhere, making Andrew some money?”

Laura’s face turned to a shade of red that I had no idea a human could attain. “You lowlife thug. Just because all of you share a house now, doesn’t mean you’re anything but scum.” She swung toward her boyfriend, voice lowering into a whine. “Andrew, I don’t understand why you’re sitting here with them. Are you sure the dean would enforce this punishment? Have you spoken to your mother? They’re your enemies, for Fletcher’s sake.”

If only you knew, bitch. These boys had never been enemies, and she was clearly not important to Andrew if she didn’t know the basic facts of who his best friends were. These four and Ethan were the ones that appeared to have a lifelong trauma bond.

Now I just had to get them to admit the whys and hows of their odd friendship—and soon.

They already knew too much about me; it was time to even the scales.