Campus King | 18+

Chapter Fifty-Four

I could only try and slow my swing, but having the reflexes of a quarterback saved him. His hand shot out, grasping the thicker part of the bat, and probably saving any future children he wanted.

"You're very trigger happy, aren't you?" He laughed breathlessly, and I think I heard a hint of fear in his voice. "I'm attacked every time I surprise you."

I gaped at him, eyes wide as my heart continued to thump against my ribs. What was he thinking coming here at this time of night without telling me?

Still holding the bat, he climbed the rest of the way in, and the curtain fell closed behind him, rippling from a soft breeze. Standing tall, he looked down at me, his gaze sweeping over every inch of my body before settling on my neck with a visible tightening of his jaw. The sight of him brought so many emotions I'd been suppressing in the chaos of yesterday. Tears welled up in my eyes as I released my grip on the bat, rushing forward to collide against his chest. My cheek pressed against his heart as my arms wound around his waist. I didn't care about the ache in my neck.

I felt the hitch in his breath betraying his surprise before he gently propped the bat against the shelf next to my window. And then he wrapped his arms around me, enveloping my completely as he squeezed me to him. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply — needing him like I needed my next breath.

In his arms, the tears came freely, soaking the front of his shirt as he simply held me in a comfortable silence, rubbing my back and softly combing the tangles from my hair while I cried. I cried because of everything that had happened, but mainly because I'd missed him.

My hands fisted the material at his lower back as I pressed even closer to him, greedy for that abundant warmth he always had. It seeped into my bones, taking the ache and cold away, and with it, the tension that was coiled tight down my back was gone. In his embrace, I melted and found my strength again.

"Babe, let me see you."

I softly shook my head against him, sniffling and tightening my grip around him and his shirt. I wasn't ready to let go yet.

"Hannah, we need to talk. Well, I need to talk — I know you can't."

I frowned at that. How could he know? In fact, how did he know where to find me? And then it clicked when I remembered Jace's odd behavior with my window latch. Which meant him and Tristan had spoken. Why didn't he tell me?

But now I wanted to know what Tristan had to say after going through all this effort. Reluctantly, I loosened my grip on his shirt and leaned back, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. The movement sent a jolt of pain through me, and Tristan must have seen it because he grabbed my wrist, holding it away from my face. His finger pressed under my chin, gently lifting my face to see my neck. It was bandaged, but there was a visible bruise peeking out from the top. It was dark and angry-looking, and it probably looked worse than it actually felt.