Forced Proximity (Bluebell House Duet Book 1)
Forced Proximity: Chapter 6

The campus medical staff concluded that I probably just had some nasty bruising, but as a precaution they’d sent me to the local hospital to check for internal bleeding and concussion monitoring. Ethan had tried to accompany me, but the college nurse had waved his concerns off as unnecessary.

It was a relief, but at the same time I spent the whole eight hours of observation at the hospital thinking about how easily he’d carried me like some kind of medieval knight protecting his damsel.

Damn it. I had a massive crush on my Economics of Crime professor.

It was way past dinner by the time college security picked me up and dropped me back to campus, and my stomach growled angrily. The hospital staff had offered me food while I’d been there, but it was unappealing at best, and I’d only picked at a cheese sandwich to appease them.

Checking the time on my phone, I groaned. The dining hall had just closed for the night, and I had no snacks at all in my room. There were a couple of vending machines over near the administration building, though, so I headed in that direction with plans to at least grab a protein bar and some soda.

“…fucking idiot!” a gruff man’s voice echoed through the night as I passed a building on route to the vending machines. “…do that one more time, I will slit your throat. Dickhead.”

I stopped in my tracks, shocked.

“As if you could,” someone familiar replied with a scoff. Was that Andrew? “My guys would fill you with so much lead, you’d be a human pencil before you could get close enough.”

“Try me,” the other guy snarled. Then the voices dipped low enough that I couldn’t make out the rest.

Holy crap. Did someone seriously just threaten to slit Andrew Knightsbridge’s throat? That was treason or something, wasn’t it?

Before I could fully process the thought, a door burst open a dozen or so feet ahead of where I stood, staring at the back of a tall guy with broad shoulders as he stalked out into the night, muttering something under his breath about neat-freak mommy’s boy prick.

As tempted as I was to spy through the window and check if it was, indeed, Andrew who he’d been arguing with, I shook off the curiosity and hurried past the building. I had enough drama and excitement for one day—I was staying firmly out of Andrew’s shit.

My leg was aching—I had an enormous bruise on the side on my knee—so I limped a little as I reached the vending machines. To my surprise, I wasn’t the only one with the late-night snackies.

“Oh,” I said when I realized the man at the machines wasn’t grabbing snacks at all. “Is that one broken?”

The guy looked over his shoulder from the open control panel he was tinkering with, dark eyes peering at me in the dim light. His dark hair was buzzed so close to the scalp, it was barely more than a shadow against his deeply tanned complexion.

“Not broken,” he replied with a hint of an accent. He spoke softly, with a voice deeper than the ocean. “Did you want something?”

I blinked a couple of times, confused, then took a few steps closer to see what the options were. Maybe he was doing maintenance? He seemed too young, though. More like a student than staff. Then again, I’d have said the same for Ethan and look how that turned out.

“Um, yeah. I can wait, though. If you’re fixing something?” The control panel seemed totally dead, and he had a couple of screwdrivers on the ground along with a bunch of wires hanging out the side of the machine.

He just stared at me a moment, then gave a little frown. “What did you want?”

British. He was British.

“Just the giant cookie, and the Doritos,” I replied, pointing out the two snacks I wanted from that machine. “But I really don’t mind waiting.”

He didn’t reply, instead turning his attention back to the inside of the control panel. A moment later the machine whirred to life and dispensed the two items I’d requested without requiring payment.

“Thanks,” I murmured when he indicated for me to take the snacks. “Are you like…maintenance or something?”

“Or something,” he mumbled back, activating the machine again to dispense one of every candy bar. Then he closed up the control panel again with his little screwdrivers before collecting his loot.

When he straightened up to his full height, I sucked in a gasp. He was huge. Maybe a full foot taller than me? Basketball tall but built solidly.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a frown as I stared, wide-eyed and stunned. “You have a bruise.” He gestured to my forehead, where my skin had turned an ugly shade of purple.

I wet my lips, trying not to stare. “Um, yeah, I got caught in that chemistry lab explosion today.”

He grimaced. “Sorry.” Then he stuffed the dozen or so candy bars in his hoodie pockets and walked away into the night. Weird guy, but…also oddly intriguing. Like I wanted to call him back and ask if we could hang out.

It was nice of him to give me free snacks, though. I grabbed a can of soda from the other vending machine, then headed back to my dorm to have my little late-night feast…and take some painkillers. That all-over body bruise was really setting in.

It was going to be a long night.

The next morning was a struggle. Thanks to my private bathroom, I was able to sit under the hot shower for the better part of an hour to loosen up my stiff, sore muscles. The blotchy bruising was a sight, but it could have been worse. A lot worse. The angry, six-month-old scar on my back was evidence to that fact.

Nina knocked at my door not long after I dressed for the day, and her grimace at my appearance told me I hadn’t put enough makeup on.

“That bad?” I asked with a groan. “I used concealer.”

She shrugged. “It’s fine. Seriously. It just looks like you’ve put concealer on a huge-ass bruise, that’s all. Wanna come get coffee with Ursa and Sven?” I’d met these friends of Nina’s once. They were a brother-sister duo from Norway who I’d have sworn were twins had they not informed me otherwise.

“Sure,” I agreed, grabbing my bag. “I’ve got an hour before Applied Microeconomics and caffeine sounds heavenly.”

Nina peppered me with questions as we walked over to the coffee shop, and when we passed the vending machines, I remembered to ask her about the argument I’d heard.

“Sounds like Connor,” she said without even a hint of surprise. “He and Andrew have basically been sworn enemies since as long as I can remember—which is ages, we’ve been at a lot of the same schools—and he’s the only one insane enough to threaten someone like Andrew with shit like that. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if that explosion was one of them trying to murder the other.”

My jaw dropped. “You’re kidding, right? And the school’s just…okay with this? Andrew’s…like…”

“Oh, I’m fully aware,” Nina laughed. “They sling a lot of insults and butt heads constantly, but they both know they can’t actually hurt one another. No one here can. Didn’t you read the handbook?”

I had but just assumed it was flowery wording for the stock standard “no violence” policy at all schools. The way Nina said it, though, sort of sounded like the punishment was worse than academic suspension.

Sven and Ursa were already at the coffee shop, waving us over when we entered and gushing over how awful I looked. In a nice way, but still…sometimes a white lie was nice.

I gently extracted myself, telling Nina I’d order for both of us. There was a short wait at the counter, then I rattled off our go-to drinks before fishing around in my bag for my wallet.

“I’ll get those,” a guy said, smoothly tapping his phone to pay.

Surprise saw my brows shoot up and I tipped my head back to say thanks. Then I stiffened. “Um…thanks. That wasn’t necessary, though.” My face heated at the idea he thought I couldn’t afford the coffees somehow.

His deep green eyes studied me with curiosity. “I never said it was. You’re Evelyn…right?”

I wet my lips, wondering why in the hell he knew my name. Or why he was even talking to me. “Eve,” I corrected, moving out of the way for the next customer as I waited for my drinks. “You’re Connor, right?” I was parroting him deliberately, but it didn’t have the intended effect.

“Have we already met?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and seeming genuinely confused.

Of course he didn’t remember picking up my phone last week. “I know your”—brother—“reputation.”

That seemed like a totally reasonable explanation to Connor, who just nodded his understanding, then collected his coffee when it was called a moment later.

“See you around, Evelyn,” he said with an ominous edge, then sauntered his sexy ass on out of the coffee shop without another glance. He oozed confidence in a way I couldn’t even begin to imagine and paid no attention to the looks he got as he passed but all I could think of was how he’d threatened to slit Andrew’s throat. Which then made me picture it.

I shivered, shoving the bloody thought aside. It was just an empty threat, surely.

“Um…did we just see you chatting with Connor Sullivan?” Nina asked with a sly grin as I returned with our drinks. Then I remembered how I’d never corrected her on who I’d kissed that first day in the library.

Fuck.

“Yeah, he paid for our coffees,” I admitted with an awkward smile.

Sven pursed his lips and exchanged a long look with Ursa. “Everyone wants to check out the pretty new girl, hmm?”

“Everyone, indeed.” Ursa nodded. “I heard Brodie Keller sat with you in Economics of Crime yesterday, too.”

Nina’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t tell me that! Eve, what the hell? How am I meant to give you all the relevant goss when I don’t know what you need to know?”

Sven let out a low whistle. “Popular girly, right here. And unlike both Connor and Andrew, Brodie is single.”

Ursa scoffed. “Is that what you call what he is? Single?”

It didn’t take a genius to guess. “Brodie’s a bit of a manwhore? Shocker. I know this will sound really weak, but I’m not here to meet guys and I have zero desire to sleep with anyone I’ve met so far.”

Except maybe Ethan. Definitely Ethan. Shit, if he kissed like that when he was surprised, what could he do when he was putting in effort?

Nina’s grin was smug, but she didn’t bring up my kiss incident in front of her friends. Thank fuck for that. Sooner or later, I needed to set the record straight…without then admitting I’d kissed a teacher. Shit. It’d be easier to just kiss Connor.