The lecture hall emptied slowly, students filtering out in clusters of conversation and laughter.
Amelia lingered at her desk in the back, gathering her books with deliberate slowness, avoiding the front of the room where Vance stood erasing the board.
She could feel his eyes on her. Had felt them for the entire hour — burning, hungry, furious.
Let him look. Let him want. She was done being his secret, his w***e, his dirty distraction from his perfect girlfriend.
The last student left. The door clicked shut.
Amelia stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder, and walked toward the exit. She didn’t look at him. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“Amelia.” Her name on his lips stopped her. Rough, broken and barely controlled.
“Don’t,” she said, not turning. “Whatever you’re going to sa
