Forced Proximity (Bluebell House Duet Book 1)
Forced Proximity: Chapter 9

By the time I finished cleaning, I was a sweaty mess. I ducked into my room and grabbed new underwear and shorts, deciding to change before dinner. Not like I was in any great rush to hang out with the assholes who got me sent here in the first place.

Spoiled-rotten rich boys, who were clearly used to getting whatever they wanted and gave zero fucks about the consequences for anyone else. Especially innocent bystanders.

Andrew had dropped me in the shit to save his girlfriend, and therefore he was number one in my ranking of housemates—asshole rankings as it were.

It would no doubt be a rotating list, but he could take the crown today.

After a quick shower, I examined my bruises in the mirror, relieved that most of the swelling was gone. Now I just had a nice colorful remembrance of almost dying in a science lab explosion. The rest of the green and yellow bruises should be completely faded over the next few days. Unlike Laura’s. It was almost worth the punishment to know that she was heading for her plastic surgeon to get a nose job over the weekend.

Bitch.

When I couldn’t delay any longer, I threw on my clothes and headed downstairs with wet and stringy hair, no makeup, and a scowl that hopefully indicated I was in no mood to be fucked with.

The four guys were already seated around a table, which was clearly new, its surface smooth and shiny. A great contrast to the old timber boards under our feet. I’d had to put my slides back on as I was worried about splinters and tetanus.

“Evie babe!” Brodie crowed. “I missed you.”

“It’s been two hours,” I replied drolly. “But hey, funny how you disappeared right when all the cleaning happened.”

He slammed a hand against his muscled pec, a perfect look of heartbreak on his face. His acting skills were not in question at all, and I already felt myself softening, despite knowing it was all fake. “You wound me. Had I known you required my assistance, I would have been there without complaint. Your mess is my mess.”

I had to shake my head hard to clear the haze he created with his perfect existence. Pointing my finger at him, I said, “No! Stop whatever you’re doing. It won’t work.”

Before I thought it through, I jabbed my finger at each of them in turn. “All of you are in my fucking bad books, and I won’t be playing nice just because we’re roommates.”

While Brodie remained visibly heartbroken, Andrew stared at me impassively, and the big “janitor” was buried in his phone, not even bothering to acknowledge my existence. Connor was the only one who visibly reacted, his expression tightening.

Deciding I needed to stop calling him Janitor Boy, I turned and said, “Hi, sorry, I didn’t get your name the other night when you were vandalizing the school. I’m Eve.” I put my hand out to shake, pulling his attention away from his phone. “I’m assuming you’re not maintenance staff?” Otherwise, he’d have simply been fired, not made to move in with a bunch of college kids.

“This is Haze,” Brodie said, introducing the silent guy as I awkwardly withdrew my hand. “Um, what happened the other night?”

My eyes widened with recognition of his name. “Haze,” I repeated, mood souring. “You’re the one who exploded the science lab on Monday and nearly killed me.”

His unblinking stare was becoming unnerving. “I said sorry.”

That was it. I blinked a couple of times, remembering his vague sorry right before he’d disappeared into the darkness with pockets full of candy. Hardly an apology fitting of nearly killing someone, but that was just my opinion.

A chair screeched as Connor pushed it back, getting to his feet slowly, as if he really couldn’t be bothered with my female hysterics. “I have an NDA for you to sign and I won’t accept a refusal.”

I gaped at him, wondering if my ears had malfunctioned. “What did you fucking say?”

The smile that crossed his face was not nice. “You heard me, Cinderella. Before you get back to your fucking chores, you need to sign an NDA, so that nothing that goes on in this house is revealed to the world.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I shake my head. “Yeah, not happening.”

Before I could blink, there was a gun pointed at my head, and I had no idea where he’d pulled it from or how he moved so fast. “If you don’t sign the NDA, I have no choice but to take you out.”

I opened my mouth, but my throat was too tight to even make a sound. We remained in a standoff as seconds ticked by, and with it, the pounding of my heart increased. Thump, thump, thump, thump. It slammed so brutally in my chest, that the cavity around it started to ache, like I was experiencing the early symptoms of a heart attack.

“Eve.”

Whoever called my name sounded as if they were miles away, and there was an echoing in my head that slammed as hard as my heartbeat. For a moment in time, as ragged breaths heaved in and out of me, all that existed were panic and memories.

The screams. That cold voice calling my name, getting closer and closer as he took out students, searching for me. A shooter that no one could replace a motive for. The burning rip of pain as bullets pierced my flesh, and I felt my life fading on a cold ground, in the middle of my college. Alone.

I’d almost bled to death without a single person I cared about even knowing I was in trouble.

“What’s happening? She’s hyperventilating. Get her down on the floor before she passes out.”

Their voices briefly broke through as gentle hands touched me, and then all I could hear was screaming. A high-pitched wail that took me forever to realize was coming from me. “What the fuck did you do, Connor? I’m going to kill you!”

For the first time, there was a sliver of clarity through my panic. A slight relief from the pressure crushing my body. Maybe because he’d eased my last attack, or maybe it was that he’d gotten to me after the explosion making sure I was safe. Either way, as soon as I heard Ethan’s voice, I lurched desperately toward him.

His woodsy scent and expensive cologne filled my nose, and instinct controlled my actions as I dropped my head against his firm chest, desperately hoping I wouldn’t pass out or vomit on him.

“Breathe with me, sweetheart,” he whispered, his husky voice close to my ear. “In and out, regulate your breathing. No one will hurt you. I promise. I will destroy anyone who tries.”

In and out. In and out. I tried to do as he said and regulate my breaths, but they were still too fast and shallow as the fuzziness on the edge of my brain indicated I was about to pass out. As darkness filtered through the last of my consciousness, I heard, “Fuck.” And then Ethan was fisting the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair as he pulled my head back and crushed his lips against mine.

As I tasted him, our breaths mingled until his breathing slowed mine. The dark spots retreated from my mind and those fuzzy tendrils faded away. I would have fallen into a heap on the floor, but there was a professor wrapped around me, keeping me standing.

No—more than that, he kept me grounded.

The triggering event seeped from my essence, and Ethan absorbed it into his own, taking away the painful memories. I’d never found anything in all my time after the attack, not through therapy or drugs or desperation that could bring me out of a full-blown attack the way Ethan just had.

Take that, Dr. Graystone. Counting to five and grounding myself in what I could see had nothing on Ethan Sullivan.

“What the fuck?”

Connor’s exclamation was like a bucket of ice water dumped directly on my head, and I leapt out of Ethan’s arms as though he was electrified.

“Eth…dude…” Brodie said with wide eyes. “I don’t think⁠—”

Holy shit. Holy shit. I’d just kissed my professor in the middle of the kitchen with all four guys front row and center. Or had he kissed me? Sort of irrelevant, I supposed.

“Put the fucking gun away, Connor,” Ethan snapped, making me jump a little.

The gun. That was what’d sent me into a panic attack. Connor pulled a fucking gun on me.

“Not until she signs the NDA,” Connor snapped, stubbornness radiating from his every pore. The gun in question was no longer pointed at me but held loosely at his side. It was all I could focus on. Now that I’d been reminded, I couldn’t look away, couldn’t even blink as, over and over in my head, I heard the deafening sound of shots.

Brodie stepped between Connor and me, breaking my line of sight with the weapon as he snatched the document from the table. “She’ll sign it, bro. Put the gun away. Can’t you see what it’s doing to her?”

My tunnel vision blurred out everything except Brodie and the paperwork in his hands. Connor muttered something about sensitive snowflakes and the surge of anger nearly eclipsed my panic. Nearly but not completely.

Andrew cleared his throat, rising from the table and moving to Connor’s side. I dimly paid attention as he murmured something to the dark-haired asshole, his voice low and his lips close to Connor’s ear. Then Connor spat a curse and stuffed the gun out of sight in the back of his pants.

“That would have been relevant information a little sooner, Drew,” he hissed, then abruptly stormed out of the room without even so much as an offhand apology for pulling a gun on me. At least Haze had said sorry for the explosion, and that hadn’t even been deliberate.

“Sit down, Evie babe,” Brodie coaxed, giving me a very gentle push toward an empty chair.

I did as I was told, because I was in shock. What the fuck was wrong with Connor? Who pulled a gun on someone without provocation?

A warm hand stroked my spine, and I leaned back into the touch. Ethan. His magnetism was damn near supernatural with how drawn to him I was.

“Evelyn, this was a disastrous idea. I’ll speak to Dean Attworth and—” Ethan began.

“You can’t,” Andrew snapped.

Ethan’s soothing hand on my back stilled. “Why the fuck not? Evelyn isn’t safe here so⁠—”

“Oh, but she’s safe under your watchful eye, Professor? Do I need to report what we all just witnessed as irrefutable inappropriate conduct with a student?” Andrew’s voice was like fucking ice, and his glare was even harder. My jaw dropped as I looked from him to Ethan and back again, wondering if they’d come to physical blows if I didn’t intervene.

Quickly grabbing the pen from Brodie, I scribbled my signature on the paperwork without even skimming it first. “There. Done. Signed. Okay?”

Andrew relaxed ever so slightly, and his expression thawed as he shifted his gaze to me. Then he nodded tightly and took the paper from my outstretched hand. “Thank you, Evelyn. I’ll speak with Connor and ensure this unpleasantness won’t happen again.”

Ethan’s hand dropped from my back. “No, I’ll speak with him. I trust you’ll provide Evelyn with a copy of that NDA so she understands what she’s just agreed to?”

“Obviously,” Andrew drawled, and Haze slid a duplicate contract across the table to me.

Ethan gave a small grunt. “You could have handled this a lot better without involving Connor.”

“No shit,” Brodie agreed, running a hand through his messy, blond hair. It did nothing to detract from how handsome and alluring he was.

“Are you okay now?” Ethan asked me the question quietly, crouching beside my chair to meet my eyes with his own concerned gaze. “That’s the second panic attack I’ve seen since you arrived.”

My lips twitched with amusement, the adrenaline of shock fading into loopy lightheadedness. “Good thing you knew how to snap me out of it, then.”

Andrew cleared his throat, reminding me again that we weren’t alone. “We are going to need to discuss that situation. It’s not⁠—”

The doorbell ringing cut off whatever high-horse judgmental shit he was about to pop off with but didn’t stop me rolling my eyes.

“That’ll be my guys with our food,” Andrew muttered. “Eth, go deal with Connor. Brodie, get Evelyn some orange juice or something. Maybe her blood sugar is low.”

With those orders, he and Ethan both disappeared, and I found myself locking eyes with the mysterious silent guy across the table. Haze. True to what little I knew of him, he said nothing. He didn’t need to. The slight raise of one eyebrow said plenty.

Shit. Maybe living under the same roof with Ethan was asking for trouble.