Lunar Crest University (Forbidden Fruit)

Chapter Nineteen

FINLEY

MONDAY, OCTOBER 23RD, 2023

P assport. Headphones. Suitcase.

I’m forgetting something. I know I’m forgetting something.

Repeating the list in my mind for the hundredth time this morning, I pull my luggage behind me on my way to the English Hall. It’s a crisp October morning, and I can see my breath as I pant anxiously across campus. The trip to England is finally here, and my nerves twist in my stomach at the thought of flying. I’ve flown a couple of times, but it never gets any easier. That, paired with being in another country with Luca, has my heart palpitating.

Being on our best behavior is imperative—it isn’t just going to be the two of us. The risk of getting caught is ineptly high with this trip.

The wheels of my suitcase crush the leaves scattered across the sidewalk, and I can feel tiny drops of rain starting to hit my cheeks as I enter the building. My body shudders all the way down to my toes as the warmth inside shrouds me. It’s quiet as I walk to the classroom, the hallways completely empty in the early hours. I was up before the birds this morning, and the burning behind my eyes is testimony to that.

As I lug my belongings through the classroom door, the bundles of nerves in my stomach quickly shift into nausea to see Genevieve Pierce is the only other person present.

Perfect.

Where is everyone?

Genevieve hums in disappointment as she peers up at me from her seat. “And here I was, thinking it was just going to be me and Professor Serrano.”

Jealousy at the mere thought of them being alone together makes my nostrils flare, but I swiftly compose myself and force a semi-friendly smile instead.

“I’m not sure the dean would allow that.”

There’s a strange smirk on her face as her blue eyes look me up and down for a moment. Her perfectly plucked eyebrow raises, and it only draws my attention to how put together she is. Her skin is so clear, there’s not a single hair out of place on her head, and her makeup is…perfect. How annoying. “Where’s your boyfriend? Is he not coming?”

“B-boyfriend?” I practically choke out. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Then who is the curly-headed guy you’re always with?”

Oh my God. “Levi?”

“I’m asking you , babe.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I manage to say, shuffling into the seat a few chairs down from her before my wobbly knees give out. “He’s my best friend. But no, he didn’t sign up to come on the trip.”

Of course, she knows Levi exists, but only because she’s under the impression we’re dating. The thought makes me want to blanch. The new revelation would send Levi into a pout fest for weeks, so I definitely opt to keep this information to myself for now.

It’s silent for a while as we sit there, but for that, I’m thankful. I’d much rather forget the last ten minutes ever happened and never speak to her again, but as the seconds keep ticking by without anyone else showing up, I can’t help but wonder what’s going on.

“Where is everyone?” I ask softly, perching my chin in the palm of my hand as I exhale quietly.

“The flu is going around.”

I hum in response, swallowing down anything else that might escape my lips. I hate small talk.

Just when I think the energy in the room can’t possibly get any more awkward, Luca enters with Dean Maddon right behind him. My heart soars and stutters in the same breath at the sight. He looks devastatingly handsome in his comfy airplane outfit—regular blue jeans and a beige-colored hoodie—but I can’t observe him the way I want when my mind is running in a million different directions.

The dean is here.

Shit.

Chills cascade down my spine because, for a split second, I’m convinced we’ve been caught. It’s over. Done. My poor stomach can’t handle any more stress. Otherwise, the next thing on the list is an ulcer. But as I overhear them talking quietly amongst themselves, I realize they’re discussing the fact that no one else is showing up.

My body relaxes at the information, and I sink into the seat as I bury my face in my cashmere scarf. Peeking up over the fabric, I watch as Luca rubs a palm down his face—very obviously stressed out. His hair is extra messy this morning, probably from running his hands through it over and over again. As disarrayed as he may seem, his face is cleanly shaved, and his mustache is trimmed to frame his full lips—lips that make my mind pitifully wander to dark, inappropriate places when I look at them.

As Dean Maddon finally leaves, he sends Genevieve and me a friendly smile. Meanwhile, Luca stands by his desk, tugging his glasses from the bridge of his nose as he heaves a sigh.

“Alright, ladies. Let’s go,” he says. “The bus is waiting outside to take us to the airport.”

It doesn’t take but a second for me to notice he doesn’t look at me. Not once. His eyes stay on his hands, his shoes, or the floor. His head doesn’t lift at all before he walks out of the classroom, not even bothering to check if we are following behind him. I try not to let the disappointment consume me as I stand to gather my things, bustling out of the room with Genevieve on my tail, because maybe he’s just being cautious.

Maybe he’s just as on edge as I am.

It’s raining steadily now as we walk back outside, the droplets painting the sidewalk and clinging to my hair on the way to the bus that waits in the parking lot designated for the English Hall. Tension permeates the damp air as Luca rushes toward the bus, flinging the compartment open on the side to load our luggage in an impatient manner. I swallow the thick wad in my throat as he takes my suitcase, still not looking at me—even as his fingers brush mine.

The annoyance creeps its way into my system as I watch the way he acts like I’m not even here. Genevieve at least got a small glance as he took her luggage, but that only further irritates me. My blood is practically boiling as I lick my lips, twist on my heel, and climb onto the bus without another glance in his direction.

I can play this game too.

Is it a coincidence that every time things have gotten physical between us, he gives me the cold shoulder afterward?

I want to believe he wouldn’t do that, but then again, I have to remind myself I don’t know him fully. I only know what he shows me, which hasn’t been much. He’s an odd professor who gets beat up in alleys and wields a gun, and when I look at it that way, I want to palm myself as hard as I can against my forehead. What am I doing ?

Since everyone is out with the flu, the bus is completely empty, aside from the three of us and the driver. I make my way toward the very back seat, slumping down onto the cold leather as I wrap my jacket tighter around myself and put my headphones in. I’m highly aware of Luca as he climbs onto the bus after Genevieve, but I keep my eyes on the rain droplets gathering on the window, honing in on each one until it trickles down and disappears out of sight.

I half expect him to sit next to me. In fact, I find myself hoping for it, but I remind myself that we’re not alone, and he has been ignoring my presence for the last ten minutes.

The ride to the airport feels excruciatingly long—between forcing myself not to look in his direction and trying not to get in my head about the entire situation, it feels like hours have gone by before we finally arrive. The weather isn’t nearly as dreary as it felt in Lunar Crest, and the amount of people bustling around makes my anxiety feel like it’s shooting through the roof. I’d never been a big city kind of girl. I’d stay in Lunar Crest for the rest of my life if I could. My soul lives and breathes for the small, quiet town with fall weather all year round.

I don’t know if he looks at me as we’re unloading the luggage from the bus, because I gaze at everything but him. My cuticles, my shoes, or my phone to respond to Levi, who told me to have a safe trip. I’m in an isolated bubble through baggage check and security, keeping to myself until we’re waiting in line at the TSA checkpoint—and I have no other choice but to acknowledge his presence as he stands behind me. I’m painfully aware of his close proximity, it makes goosebumps prick along every surface of my skin in waves, soothed every few seconds by the heat that radiates from him towering closely over me. Genevieve is in front of me, distracted by her phone when he lowers his lips down to my ear.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

I glance over my shoulder, and I’m met with dark brown eyes. “What?”

“Are you upset with me?”

I frown. “Me? I should be asking you that.”

The line moves up just a smidge, and the spell between us is broken as he leans away from me. Stepping forward, I create some distance as my head tries to get through to my heart, reminding it that I deserve an apology for the way he’s acting. The hold his dark eyes have on me makes it easy to forget that, so I choose not to look back at him again as we slowly trek our way through TSA. It’s a blur of chaos as the workers rush us through, and I scramble to place all my things into the bin as I kick off my shoes. I can feel his eyes on me as we walk through the giant metal detectors, but I ignore the feeling before collecting my shoes and belongings again at the end of the line.

It used to be easier to be angry with him, to stand my ground, but that was before I knew what it felt like to be writhing under his touch. What his skin felt like against mine. How his mustache feels when he’s kissing my thighs.

“You’re avoiding me.” Luca’s voice is low behind me, but it makes the hairs on my neck prick all the same.

“Only giving the same energy I’m receiving.”

And then, he’s a few feet away from me again as the three of us walk together to our gate for the flight. Genevieve being here makes it nearly impossible to talk about anything, and as much as I want to say screw it and confront him right here in the middle of the airport, I clamp my lips shut and wrap my arms tightly around myself as a source of comfort. There’s too much noise, too many people, and I want my brain to just be quiet .

Everything feels like a fuzzy dream as the overstimulation shrouds me, so I keep my head down and push through the process of boarding the plane. My seat . I just need to sit down. I need to sit down, listen to my headphones, and close my eyes.

My chest squeezes as I breathe carefully through my nose, letting the agent scan my ticket before I hurry down the hallway. I’m not sure where Luca or Genevieve are, but I don’t care.

My seat.

Much to my dismay, as soon as I settle down into my window seat and take a deep, grounding breath, I lift my head to see Luca is right next to me—and like a cherry on top of a disastrous cake, Genevieve is on the other side of him .

Perfect. A shit sandwich.

I look out of the window, zoning out on the guy on the tarmac with the orange wand, ready to guide the plane. Flight attendants start demonstrating the safety procedures, but I don’t turn my head to watch. I’m too scared I’ll catch his eye, and as soon as I do, my willpower will falter completely. It’s not until the plane starts gliding down the tarmac to prepare for takeoff that I face forward instead. I hate this part.

My hand grips the armrest as the plane starts speeding up, and I squeeze my eyes closed before the shaking of takeoff can happen. My breath halts in my throat as we lift off the ground, and my heart pumps erratically inside of my chest.

“Don’t hold your breath, Finley,” Luca whispers next to my ear. “Breathe through your nose.”

Wincing, I push the air through my nose before shakily inhaling again. My knuckles are white from gripping so tightly, and my other hand is clenched into a fist in my lap. Even my knees are touching as I tense up entirely.

“Are you okay?” he asks lowly.

“ Fine ,” I grit out.

“Just try to relax.”

I hum in response.

I’m not sure how long we sit like this in silence, me breathing carefully through my nose and flexing my stiff fingers, him staring down at me like I might pass out suddenly if he looked away. Apparently, it’s long enough for Genevieve to doze off, because as I twist my head to raise my eyebrow irritably at him for staring at me, I see she’s asleep.

“I was stressed out with all the students being sick,” he mutters, and my eyes flicker back up to his. The sound of the plane makes it easier to speak to each other without anyone overhearing us. “And then the dean was asking me a million questions, and I just…I’m sorry.”

I harden my gaze. “So you’re acknowledging you ignored me first?”

“ Princesa , I’m sorry .”

“You do realize this is becoming a trend, right?” My anger wilts as I say it, and I pull my eyes back to my hands in my lap. “Getting what you want from me and being standoffish afterward?”

“That was never my intention?—”

“What are you two whispering about over there?” Genevieve chimes in.

My body freezes, thinking she’d heard everything after all, but then Luca’s calm voice reassures her he was only making sure I felt okay, that he didn’t want anyone else to get sick. Knowing we won’t be able to continue talking any further, I pull out my headphones and put them in before he can try to finish what he was about to tell me. The people pleaser in me feels sick to my stomach leaving our conversation like that, but I turn up the music to drown out the thoughts trying to sabotage what’s left of my sanity today.

I’m going to be okay.