Lunar Crest University (Forbidden Fruit)

Chapter Three

FINLEY

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 30TH, 2023

I t’s my senior year at Lunar Crest University, and the only parties I’ve gone to are the ones Levi has practically dragged me to. If it wasn’t for his nagging and pouty lips, I wouldn’t bother showing my face at all. A bunch of drunken fraternities and loud music isn’t really my scene. Still, after my conversation with Professor Serrano yesterday, I could use a few drinks—preferably strong ones.

The past two weeks have been…exhausting.

I’m just as attracted to him as I am angry with him—and I’m not an angry person. My rage and magnetism with him are one and the same, creating a lethal concoction that makes my common sense fly out of the window whenever I’m in his presence. His grip on my chin should’ve scared me, and maybe it did, but it made my body react in ways I’d never felt, as if my stomach was turning inside out and butterflies were filling my chest, constricting my oxygen.

It’s infuriating . As someone who needs to be in control at all times, losing every shred of dignity I have left is maddening. I feel powerless under his gaze, his hands.

So powerless that I succumbed to peer pressure and tagged along with Levi to this back-to-school party with stale beer and hormonal college kids making out on the staircase. My plan is simple: don’t talk to anyone, drink a few drinks, and get out. As much as I’d rather be drinking an entire bottle of wine while watching reruns of Gilmore Girls on my couch, at least the booze is free.

“Why are we here again?” I ask warily as I grimace at the couple shoving their tongues down each other’s throats against the marble island in the middle of the kitchen.

Levi slides a red solo cup of beer toward me. “To have fun. Like a normal college kid.”

“ Right. ”

“What?” he quips, touching his cup to mine in cheers before taking a sip. “Too good to hang out with me anymore?”

“We could’ve hung out at my house,” I offer. “You know? Wine and?—”

“ Gilmore Girls .”

I shoot him a pointed look.

“Genevieve is supposed to make an appearance tonight.” He shrugs casually, avoiding my gaze. “But that’s beside the point.”

I partially wrap my arms around myself as I sip at my beer, rubbing the sleeves of my knit sweater tucked into my ripped jeans near my belt buckle. Tapping the tips of my black boots together, I sigh. Who Levi decides to have a giant crush on is entirely up to him, but I can’t stop feeling sorry for him every time he shrinks himself down to allow her to be the center of attention—the girl who never bothers to glance his way.

I can’t blame or criticize him, though, because I’m starting to do the same thing.

My nostrils flare at the thought of Professor Serrano again , giving me the courage to down the rest of my cup in two seconds. I ignore the curious eyes of my friend as I refill my cup, drowning out more of my rage as I sip at the bread-smelling liquid. It’s foamy and gross, but it will do the job just fine.

“Do I worry?” Levi asks, glancing between me and my drink.

“Nope.”

He swings an arm over my shoulders. “You know you can talk to me, don’t you, Finn? About anything.”

“I know,” I reassure him, resting my head into the crook of his neck. “Just…not tonight.”

He nods. “One of those, huh?”

I empty my cup for the second time.

“Got it,” he chuckles, taking it from me and walking toward the keg to pour me some more. “Getting drunk, it is.”

And this is why Levi Matthews is my best friend. He can read me like a book without me even saying much, and he never pressures me to either. We can comfortably exist in silence together for hours and just be content with each other’s company. In all the four years I’ve known him, we’ve never been interested in each other romantically, but he’s been attached to my hip since—movie nights at my place, study sessions, and holidays at my parent’s house. Levi’s relationship with his family is rocky, and mine accepted him with open arms. We just…fit.

And he’s the best drinking partner.

Five cups of beer later, I’m stumbling down the steps of the frat house toward the English Hall with the intent to wreak havoc on my mind.

My sound judgment is so impaired that trashing Professor Serrano’s office seems like a good idea. I’ve always been a lightweight. The alcohol has me all tingly and fired up, like there’s nothing that can possibly stop me, until I finally stagger my way there and decide to just be nosy instead. I rest my hand on the doorknob, twisting slightly and finding it unlocked. My curiosity piques as I carefully open the door, flicking the light on and waltzing inside. My need to meddle takes over my want to destroy his desk and everything that sits on it.

Which is quite tidy, now that I inspect it up close. Trailing my finger along the darkened wood, I examine the perfectly aligned stacks of paper, the two sharpened pencils that lay side by side, and the nameplate that reads Luca Serrano . Reading his full name sends chills down my spine, little electric shocks that prickle my nerve endings.

There are no photos, nothing personal to even give me an inkling about the kind of person he is.

A yelp escapes my lips as the door slams behind me, making me whirl around with my hand fluttering over my chest.

“Finley?”

I gulp as I peek up at Professor Serrano, who stares down at me. His eyes are shadowed in the light, his glasses folded and hanging from the collar of his sweater, his sleeves rolled quarter-length with his jacket draped over his arm. In my drunken stupor, I pitifully notice the veins on his muscular forearms, and my cheeks flush a deep crimson as I glance down at my boots.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“What’re you doing here?”

Swaying faintly, I peer back up at him with my bottom lip tucked between my teeth.

“Are you drunk?” Luca questions firmly, the wrinkle between his brows furrowing.

“No…” I hiccup. “... Yes .”

He appears troubled as his fingers extend out toward me before yanking them quickly back to his side. “Are you here by yourself? Did you walk?”

His rapid questions only make my brain spin even more. The room is even turning a bit. Shaking my head, I rub my forehead as I turn back toward his desk, leaning over it to place my palms against the cool wood.

“I was looking…around,” I squeak, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to stop the churning in my stomach.

Now is not the time to throw up, Finn.

“At eleven o’clock at night?”

“You’re also here at—” I pause, lifting my wrist to check my imaginary watch as I twirl to face him. “Eleven o’clock, sir .”

If I wasn’t entirely buzzed and could trust my own eyes, I would have sworn I’d seen the corner of his lips twitch. If it had, he composed it before I could even study him through a squint to find out. Instead, he sucks in a deep breath, rubbing his chin as he examines me for a moment.

“I left some papers here,” Luca explains gruffly. “I came by to grab them and saw the light on.”

Another hiccup. “Well, here I am. Here to ruin your night. ‘Cause the sight of me annoys you.”

His lips press into a thin line as he walks around me to grab the stack of papers from his desk, stuffing them inside the bag he has slung over his shoulder. Clearing his throat, his eyes fall on me again, and his tongue presses against his cheek. The movement makes my breath halt in my throat as I watch him. It shouldn’t be such a turn-on, but it is—or is that the liquid courage talking?

“I’ll take you home.”

I frown. “Oh, no . Don’t need you to do that. I can?—”

“What?” Luca cuts me off as he arches a brow. “You’ll walk? Not at this time of night. I’m driving you home.”

“So you can murder me?” I blurt. “No thanks.”

His glare narrows.

“You get sliced and diced in alleys.” My finger raises to point at him, and my body sways. “No way I’m gettin’ inna car with you.”

He leans his head down until his face is inches from mine. “You’re getting in my car, and I’m taking you home, either by choice or by force. It’s up to you.”

I clamp my mouth shut as I watch him walk out of the room, swiftly following him as I tuck my hair behind my ears. The air is piercing as we make our way outside into the moonlight that cascades across the dark campus, stars dotting the night sky. Hugging myself tighter, my teeth chatter as the chill seeps through my clothing. Leaves rustle across the ground in the frigid breeze, crunching underneath my boots as I walk.

My head is spinning again from trying to match his quick pace, and my stomach heaves as my mouth dries. Oh no.

As we rush into the parking lot next to the English Hall, I stop in the grass. I peek up at him to see him walking to his car, gripping the rock wall that lines the perimeter—knowing exactly what is about to happen next.

Leaning against the stone, I hunch over as I prop my palm against my knee. I slowly inhale through my nose, my breaths coming out shakily through my lips as I try to focus on anything but the nausea. But it’s the only thing I can think about as it overcomes me.

“Finley?”

“I’m gonna be sick.”

“Right now?”

“ Yes , right now?—”

I convulse faintly as the vomit interrupts my sentence, toppling forward as I throw up in the grass. If I wasn’t so busy emptying the contents of my stomach, I would focus more on the fact that he brushes my hair from my face just in time—holding it behind me as I puke, much to my dismay.

The blush creeps into my cheeks as the embarrassment settles in my veins. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I groan softly.

“How much did you have to drink?”

“A few beers,” I mutter feebly.

“A few beers ?” Luca repeats, letting my hair fall as it cascades to the middle of my back. “ Ay , Dios mío , Finley. You’re throwing up from a few beers?”

“I don’t drink much, okay?”

I watch him rub the spot between his eyebrows with an aggravated sigh. If I could disappear into thin air, I would undoubtedly do so. The humiliation feels like it’s eating me from the inside out as I wince down at my boots, digging the heel into the dirt patch beneath my feet as I swallow the last bit of morale I have left.

“Let’s just get you home,” he mutters.

As I lift my head to nod reluctantly, I freeze as I realize he’s standing much closer than before. My mouth falls open as he throws his jacket over my shoulders, wrapping it around me before pressing his palm against my lower back—gently guiding me out of the grass toward the empty parking lot. My heart thuds severely inside my chest as I try not to focus on the fact that he’s touching me.

Get a grip.

I’m not sure what I expect Luca to drive, but it isn’t the freshly-waxed, spotless luxury car he leads me toward. I quietly observe him as he whisks the passenger door open for me, giving him a sheepish look as I climb inside. It smells of leather seats and him , a musky sandalwood with a hint of spice. It’s sad that I know that.

“You were drinking tonight.”

I frown as he speaks while getting into the driver’s side, starting the vehicle without even glancing my way.

“Huh?” I rasp.

“You said you don’t drink often.” He sighs, pulling out of the lot. “But you’re drinking tonight.”

Shrinking down in the seat, I shrug as I stare out of the dark window up at the crescent moon that looks like it’s starting to spin. “My friend wanted me to come to a party and I agreed, so.”

“Your friend couldn’t drive you home?”

“He’s drunk too,” I mumble.

“Where was he when you were snooping around my office?”

“I wasn’t snooping,” I say quickly.

“What were you doing, then?”

“I told you.” My cheeks grow hot. “I was looking around.”

Luca falls silent, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he drives. The whirling of my brain seeps back in as the car flies down the road. The moon and stars don’t look so beautiful now as my stomach churns again. Closing my eyes with a silent exhale, I lean against the window, pressing my warm cheek to the cool glass—anything to get the nausea to subside.

I would’ve never forgiven myself if he’d caught me trying to destroy his office out of drunken frustration, but perhaps this is karma’s way of handing me a dose of what I deserve for even having the thought. Getting inebriated and yakking in front of him is my slap on the wrist for almost doing something stupid.

The world gradually stops spinning as I doze off in the warmth of Professor Serrano’s jacket.