DON’T STOP
“Then you let it go far enough. A kiss. His hand on your waist. Maybe lower. Just enough to get clear footage. The second it crosses the line you want, you pull back. Scream if you have to. ‘I’m not interested. Stop.’ Then you show him the camera feed on your phone. Tell him you recorded everything. That you’re done playing games. That unless he changes the F to at least a B, or better, an A, you’ll make sure the whole department, his fiancée, the dean, and everyone see exactly what kind of man he is.”
My stomach flipped. “Blackmail.”
“Survival,” she corrected. “He started this when he failed you out of spite. We’re just finishing it.”
I stared at the ceiling, the plan looping in my mind lik