#Chapter 3: From Bad to Worse

[Elara’s POV]

Oh my God! What the hell is wrong with me?!

The level of my embarrassment had grown to be so overwhelming that I was nearly certain I was going to pass out.

How on earth could I have allowed myself to become so carried away? This wasn’t who I was—I wasn’t some easy, desperate girl who openly threw herself at random strangers.

Only, this man wasn’t a stranger at all. Killian Knox had been the center of all my teenage desires when I was younger. For years, I had imagined the day when he and I would cross paths again.

I would have presented myself to be the confident, mature woman that I had strived to become. But now...Oh, God. Now, there was no chance of that happening.

Killian would never think of me as a grown, mature woman, but rather a reckless flirt who couldn’t keep her hands to herself. The moment he’d let go of my hands, I covered my face in sheer mortification.

I took in a shaky breath and lifted my head to catch his stern gaze.

“Killian, I can expl—”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he stated coldly. “This is no place for you. The drinks that they serve alone aren’t suitable for someone like you.”

Someone like me...

Another wave of fierce emotion slammed into me. First Brad and now Killian...How many more times was I going to be inflicted with those exact words??

Just what exactly was so wrong with me? Why did it feel like everyone was determined to make me feel so different and obscure?

For some reason, Killian was the one who made me feel all the more insecure. It was no surprise that he still saw me as a child. I clenched my jaw and glared back at him.

“In case you’ve failed to notice,” I said tightly. “I am an adult.”

His eyes studied my face with a frown, as if he didn't agree with what I'd said. Yet he stayed silent and let his gaze drop. It lingered for a fraction of a second over my chest before he looked away entirely.

In the next moment, before I could even process it, he shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to me in silence.

My brows furrowed in confusion until I glanced down at myself to discover that the front of my dress had become completely translucent from the water that had been dumped over my head earlier.

The material clung to my body, making both my bra and the hardened peaks of my nipples visible. My cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. Quickly, I snatched the jacket from him and wrapped it around myself.  

“I’m taking you back,” he said firmly.

“That won’t be necessary,” I told him tersely. “I’m here with a friend.”

Killian’s doubtful look turned somber when he turned his head in the direction that I pointed at Ava. His shoulders briefly relaxed.

“Just get home.” And with that, he turned on his heels and left.

I wasn’t prepared for the overwhelming sense of loss that washed over me as I watched him walk away. God damnit. I didn’t even get a real chance to talk to him and ask him what his life had become since he vanished years ago.

Ava scurried up to my side with a buzzing look of curiosity. “Ooo, so who was that?”

“No one,” I muttered.

“Really? Cause, I gotta tell you, the two of you looked pretty well-matched just from your silhouettes alone,” she explained. The two of us watched Killian’s figure retreat through the crowd. “Hmm, not gonna lie. He looked oddly familiar. You sure nothing happened?”

I shook my head, not wanting to relive the embarrassment. “Let’s just head back to the dorm.”

That night, while Ava was busy taking a shower, I began getting ready for bed. I’d placed Killian’s jacket over the back of my desk chair and noticed something sticking out of one of the side pockets.

I crossed the room and reached out for it. My brows jumped in surprise as I gazed down at the Fairmont University pamphlet.

Just when I thought I had successfully pushed Killian Knox out of my thoughts, it all came rushing back like a maddening storm. This damn pamphlet brought on a whole new slew of questions.

What exactly were his plans when it came to this university? Was he planning on staying in town long? Was he still staying in the same house next to mine?  

Placing the pamphlet back in the pocket, I grabbed my phone to send a quick text to my dad. It came as no great surprise when he didn’t respond. That familiar feeling of disappointment came, knowing that our communication was always one-sided.

The next day, I settled into my honors Biology class and couldn’t help but overhear the chatter that surrounded me. Apparently, we were expected to get a new professor today.

“I heard Professor Abram transferred here from across the country,” one student remarked.

“This guy is a pretty big deal. I heard that he’s behind this major theory in our field.”

“Sounds like some big-shot Alpha.”

That last statement caused me to turn my head in their direction. Alpha? That was an unusual term that one didn’t normally hear on a regular basis. With a raised brow, I gave them a questioning look.

“What does that mean?”

The group shared a knowing smile amongst each other.

“It just means that this new professor is highly accomplished,” one of them explained.

“Has anyone actually met him yet?” I asked.

They all shook their heads, leading me to feel deflated and left wondering about this mysterious new professor.

The rest of class went by smoothly. By the time the bell rang, I grabbed my bag and headed toward the library.

Buzz. Buzz.

Just then, I glanced down at my phone to find that I had received a new email from the university’s supervising department.

My heart raced with anticipation. In order to support myself financially through the semester, I had applied for a part-time teaching assistant position in our Biology department for incoming Freshmen.

I opened the email and discovered that I’d been accepted into the position and felt a great wave of relief and excitement. But as I read through it, I soon came to realize that my new supervisor was none other than the new hire, Professor Abram.

I swiftly sent him an email, wanting to formally introduce myself and put my best foot forward.

Much to my surprise, and contrary to most arrogant academics, Professor Abram had replied to my email rather quickly. He seemed already somewhat aware of me as a student and even passed the remark that since I showed so much interest in the field, I was likely enrolled in another course that he taught.

Professor Abram had recommended that I look into a short list of literature on the course. I was touched by his insight, as it reminded me of a certain someone who once went out of their way to recommend books to me when I was younger.  

I was honestly feeling pretty amenable about the whole ordeal. Until I got to the end of the email, and my heart suddenly leaped into my throat.

‘I look forward to our work collaboration, Miss Sinclaire. And given the fact that the two of us will be seeing quite a bit of one another, I suggest that you simply address my first name. Killian.’