Lunar Crest University (Forbidden Fruit)

Chapter Ten

FINLEY

MONDAY, OCTOBER 9TH, 2023

S taring up at my bedroom ceiling, I wince as I blink slowly, my eyes burning. I’d fallen asleep for maybe two hours after I cried myself to sleep, still soaked from the rain, but I woke up when I heard Luca close the door on his way out early this morning. I desperately need a shower—I feel icky. Every part of my body feels gross, but I know it will take more than a hot shower to fix that. The warmth of my bed is my only source of comfort, so I don’t have much motivation to get up.

And I’m stalling.

Stalling because the mere thought of seeing Luca in class later, having to look him in the eye after last night, has the tears welling up in my eyes again. My stomach churns uneasily just thinking of why he had to leave so early this morning. What he needed to take care of .

Of course, I want to believe he’s not dangerous, but then I remember the gun. The man touching me. The dirt. He may have saved me from something much worse, but he may have also killed that guy.

Don’t think about it.

Whining softly, I pull myself from my bed, peeling off my clothes leisurely on my way toward the bathroom. Combing my fingers through my tangled hair, I twist the shower knob until hot water is filling the bathroom with steam.

I’m too tired to deal with my brain, too tired for the quiz I know awaits me in British Lit, and too tired to face him. The thought of using what energy I have to respond to him, even in the smallest of talk, makes me want to curl up at the bottom of this tub. My energy has to go to the quiz, and I’m not even super confident about that .

It’ll be the worst Monday in the history of Mondays. The worst Monday of my entire existence.

I can’t remember the last time I kept up with my planner, or the last time I felt organized or prepared. My eyes water at that, and I shove my face beneath the shower head to wash any stray tears away.

The hot water feels amazing on my skin as I close my eyes and let my head fall back, rubbing the tense muscles in my neck. I want to stay here for the rest of the day, basking in the steam and scent of my lavender body wash, any traces of last night swirling down the drain. It’s peaceful here.

As soon as I step out of the tranquil bubble, my worries hit me like a freight train, practically knocking the wind from my chest as I smudge the steam on the mirror to stare at my pale reflection.

Take a breath.

The dark bags underneath my eyes are pitiful, somehow making my porcelain skin seem pastier than usual. After a few layers of concealer, lip gloss, and mascara, I don’t resemble the Grim Reaper anymore, at least. I could pass for death’s distant cousin. The sidekick, maybe. As I put on my uniform, my dark hair dries in kinky curls, past the point of brushing out, so I decide to leave it alone.

My curls are from my father, who could pass as my twin. We have the same green eyes, the same dark, naturally curly hair, and the same soft, pale skin. The only things I inherited from my mother were her full lips, thick eyebrows, and stubbornness. Thinking about my parents makes me miss them, and I make a mental note to try my best to visit them soon.

It has been three months since the last time I saw them. I stayed for a few weeks over the summer at my childhood home. I call them when I can, but it’s never the same as physically being home and hugging them. They have the best hugs—the kind that make you feel warm and instantly cured of all the problems in the world.

I could use one of those hugs right now.

What do I do ? Call the police? Report that guy in the alley? The repercussions could possibly get Luca in trouble, too… Did I want that? He was trying to help me. That’s all he has been doing since we met. We help each other. We…

I shake my head, sniffling.

Take. A. Breath.

It’s the first day in over a week that it’s not raining in Lunar Crest. Instead, the blue sky is clear, not a cloud in sight as I make my way to the bus stop. The crisp morning air nips at my cheeks and nose, making me pull my blazer tighter around me as I wait for the bus to arrive. Birds chirp excitedly for the pretty day, whizzing around the trees planted on the side of the road in dirt squares that line the street.

I try to focus on the picturesque fall day as long as I can, staring at all the bright shades of orange and yellow on the trees as the bus drives through town toward the university. Every time I feel the phantom hand on my chin or get a flash of Luca holding that gun in my mind, I concentrate on the rays of sunshine beaming through the bus window on my skin.

Nothing felt as warm as Luca’s chest against my cheek last night for the few seconds I allowed him to hold me. His cologne is still stuck in my nose.

Jesus Christ.

Sliding down in my seat, I groan quietly, squeezing my eyes shut. Luca Serrano has completely ripped my world right out from under me. I feel so out of control. I’m grasping at the loose strings of tenure I have left, but I can’t reach it. My nerves are one big bundle of panic settling into my stomach, weighing me down.

Seriously—even my footsteps feel heavy as I get off the bus and walk to the English Hall. My feet are dragging, or maybe I’m subconsciously stalling again.

I even hesitate outside the classroom door for a bit before I muster up the courage to whisk it open and walk inside, keeping my eyes on my shoes as I make my way up to my desk with a minute to spare. My curiosity peaks multiple times, coaxing me to peek at him, but I focus on the desk as I pull the chair out to sit. The magnetic pull to look up at him is intense.

Do not look at him.

“Finn?”

I twist my head to look over at Levi, who’s staring at me like I’ve got a third eye on my forehead or something. Clearing my throat, I say, “Hey, sorry.”

“Are you okay?” he questions softly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look awful.”

“What other way should I be taking that, exactly?”

He deadpans. “No, you just look tir?—”

“Good morning, class,” Luca greets coolly, interrupting Levi as his deep voice echoes around the room. “Let’s knock this quiz out.”

Swallowing thickly, I pull out a notebook from my bag and start to doodle mindlessly on the blank page to avoid the gaze I can feel burning into me.

However, as a copy of the quiz lands on my crappy drawing of a sun hiding behind a cloud, I’m forced to reluctantly peek up as Luca passes a paper out to each student, one by one. His dark eyes linger on me for a moment as he gathers the next sheet between his fingers, and his eyebrows twitch faintly in question before he continues walking past my desk.

“Quiz is timed,” he states. “You have ten minutes. When you’re done, bring it to my desk.”

As if my Monday couldn’t get any more horrendous, now I only have a handful of minutes to get myself together enough to complete a quiz I’m not nearly in the right headspace for. My brain is already too full of problems, pushing everything quiz-related out. It goes against every bone in my perfectionist body. Perhaps I’m broken.

At my wit’s end, if anything. I’m only able to answer two questions in those ten minutes.

With a mortified expression, I rise from my desk to take my quiz down to the front. Hoping to toss it on the pile and dart away quickly, I groan inwardly as his eyes flicker down to it just as I place it on top of the stack. His eyebrows raise as I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Finley.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Is everything okay?” he asks lowly, just loud enough for my ears.

My jaw hangs open in disbelief just before I clamp it shut again as I step aside to let another student drop their quiz on his desk. When we’re alone again, I suck in a deep breath before glaring down at where he sits in his chair, looking annoyingly perfect. His black button-up is tucked into his khakis, and his maroon-colored tie fits snugly to his neck. His glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose. He looks too fresh for someone who left my house so early this morning. He doesn’t even look tired.

“Is everything okay ?” I hiss. “No, everything is not okay, Professor Serrano.”

He licks his lips. “See me after?—”

“Class,” I finish for him. “Yeah, I know.”

Turning away from him, I retreat to my desk. The rest of class passes in a blur, fleeting conversations about our next segment, Shakespeare and his sonnets, while Genevieve sucks up to Luca in a desperate attempt to grab his attention. For most of the sixty minutes, I zone out, staring aimlessly out of the glass windows of the classroom.

It’s crazy that a singular moment caused this. If I’d left work earlier that day like I was supposed to, none of this would’ve ever happened. I’d be a normal person in college, just like everyone else in this room.

It isn’t until students start filing out of the room that I snap out of my daze, shuffling to grab my things as I mosey down to the front to get the lecture I’m about to receive out of the way so I can go home.

But Levi stops me at the bottom step, gently grabbing my arm and turning me to face him. His hazel eyes are soft, which is the only reason I swallow down my attitude and sigh.

“Want me to come over tonight?” he asks. “We can watch a movie.”

I know he’s worried about me, but the last thing I want to do is entertain company.

“Not tonight, Levi,” I say, giving him a weak smile. “I’m fine.”

“Call me, at least?” He lets go of my arm before pulling me into a side hug. “Just so I know you’re okay. Please?”

I press my cheek into his chest. “I will. I promise.”

He leaves a chaste kiss on the top of my head before we part ways like he does sometimes, and the weight on my shoulders lightens just a smidge.

Luca stands from his desk as I approach him, his arms crossing in front of his burly chest as his tongue presses against his cheek. He looks bothered by something, but the expression is gone before I can try to decipher it further.

“Two questions.”

“I had a long night,” I mutter. “I have a lot on my mind, and I can’t focus.”

“Well, sit down,” he grumbles, rubbing his chin. “You’re going to retake it.”

Growling heatedly, I step closer to his desk and slam my palms down on the wood. “What did you do? I heard you leave early this morning.”

Taking his glasses off, he pinches the bridge of his nose as the other rests on his hip. Sighing aggravatedly, he tosses his glasses on the desk before mirroring me, placing his hands in front of mine as he stares at me. His expression never gives anything away, another maddening thing about him. A million thoughts could be flickering through his mind, and none of them would show on his face, not even a glimmer in his eyes.

“I left to get ready for class. I had to clean up.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I plead hoarsely.

“I just told you?—”

“ Tell me!” I yell shakily, swiping my hand across the desk, making quizzes scatter everywhere.

My heart thuds rapidly inside of my chest as I watch him storm through the tornado of papers flying around, straight for me. A tiny squeak escapes my lips as he grasps my jaw in his large hand, whisking me around with his other one as he walks toward the wall, pressing me firmly against it for the second time. Except this time, he clamps his hand over my mouth to shush me, peeking around the corner at the door to make sure no one comes to see what all the noise is about.

I should be scared. I should be shrinking away from how he’s holding me, the same way that disgusting guy was last night, but I’m not. My thighs would clamp together if it wasn’t for his knee pressing between them. I find myself fighting the urge to brush his thigh against my center.

What. The. Fuck?

A few seconds of silence pass, and the only sound is the faint scraping of papers falling at our feet. Taking his hand from my mouth, his fingers linger on my chin.

“I handled it, Finley.”

I wince as I cock my head, tears pooling in my eyes. “Tell me.”

Stepping back, his jaw clenches as he observes me. “I took care of it. That’s all you need to know. You’re safe. Leave it alone. Please .”

My stomach churns nauseatingly at his words, which somehow don’t settle the chaos inside my mind. It only leaves me with more questions. His response is too vague, too open-ended. I was safe, but at what cost? What did he have to do to ensure the disgusting man wouldn’t come back for me?

He’s right. Leave it alone.

Maybe it’s better not knowing.

“I have to go,” I rasp, swiping away the tear that falls down my cheek.

“Finley—”

“I can’t do this right now.”

As I twist on my heel to flee, he locks his fingers around my wrist to pull me back, tugging me close enough to lower his mouth next to my ear. His breath tickles my neck, making the hair prick up. My nipples harden as the chills encapsulate me, betraying my emotions as my body reacts in a way I try to fight against.

“He put his hands on you. He forced himself on you. I made it so he would never lay a finger on you again. I’m not going to apologize for that.”

I shudder at the low octave in his voice, the way it reverberates through his chest and in my ears.

“How do I know you’re not just like him?” I question breathlessly, peering up at him through my lashes. My cheeks are on fire from the proximity.

“You don’t.”

My chest heaves as I frown up at him, ignoring the alluring pull between us that makes me want to lean toward him as I gnaw at the inside of my lip. His fingers are still wrapped around my wrist, his other hand clenched by his side. His face is mere inches from mine. All I have to do is stand on my tiptoes?—

No.

“But tell me, Princesa ,” Luca continues faintly, his eyes flickering down to my pursed lips before meeting my unsteady gaze. “Have I ever made you feel the way he made you feel?”

Grinding my molars, I drop my head, staring down at his fingers wrapped loosely around my wrist. I know the silence is deafening, an answer all on its own, but I didn’t want to admit it to him. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of hearing it come from my lips—how he makes me feel safe. Warm. Electric. So, I say nothing at all.

“Stay after class on Wednesday to retake the quiz,” he whispers after a few beats. “Go home. Rest.”

Letting go of me, Luca turns to walk back to his desk, picking up his glasses and putting them on as he starts gathering the scattered papers without another glance in my direction. The guilt settles deep in my stomach as I watch him clean up the mess I made.

Readjusting the bag on my shoulder, I swallow thickly as I hurry from the classroom, bursting through the door with so much force, it makes me flinch when the door bangs against the wall from the momentum. I don’t stop until I run down the steps of the English Hall and find myself at the bus stop. Rubbing my wrist gently, I still feel the heat from his touch.

What does it mean that I crave to feel it again?