Page 49 of Pink Ink

A research paper to draft.

Someone to kill.

A brother to protect and a woman I’m meant to be marrying to protect said brother.

Yet as I move through the dim-lit library, ostensibly to chip away at the endless list, something intrinsic in my soul, like a compass pointing north, makes me turn my head right and peer around the shelves.

Reyna.

The organ in my chest gives an unfamiliar stutter as I come to a stop. Finishing to the thought of her three nights ago has only worsened my desire for her.

The very last thing I have time for is a student who already occupies far too much of my thoughts. Every part of my brain is screaming at me to leave her well be.

But that compass is still pointing, and my soul and body are at its whim.

“Miss Sinaga.”

She doesn’t hear me, lightly bobbing her head to the music playing through her headphones as she concentrates on the screen. The cold glow of the library computer brushes her tanned skin, creating a stark contrast against the green light streaming from the desk lamps.

Dark-brown eyes flick my way, and she jolts back, yanking her headphones off. “Mr. Shaw,” she gasps, glancing at our deserted surroundings.

She’s beautiful. I think that every time I see her.

There’s no one around to witness our interaction. This place is usually a ghost town past dinnertime. The idea shouldn’t thrill me, but it does—if she tries to run, I’d be the only one here to catch her. I almost wish she would so I would have an excuse to chase her. I’m sure the faculty would love if I did exactly that.

Reyna’s too busy being shocked—and just as confused as I am by my stupidity in approaching her—to notice those dark thoughts.

“Another late night?”

And there I go starting up an actual conversation. No wonder Roland thinks I’m a fool.

Reyna glances at her screen. “It’s seven.”

“As I said, it’s late. Not exactly the safest hour.” I frown at the bright-yellow object sitting a couple of inches from her bag. “Why is there an EpiPen on the table?”

This is the second time I’ve seen her with one.

Red kisses her cheeks. “Just in case I need it. I thought there were nuts in my takeout a couple hours ago. I took some antihistamines as a preventative but… yeah. Sorry. Coast clear, I guess.”

Reyna laughs nervously and shoves it into her brown leather satchel.

She has a nut allergy? Why was this not underlined in red in her student profile? This is pure negligence on the university’s part. I’ll be having words with the administration manager to ensure this doesn’t happen again.

“What specifically are you allergic to?” Ignoring her protests, I take the EpiPen out of her bag.

“You can’t just grab things out of my—” She reaches for my arm, and I hold my breath in the hopes she closes the distance. My pulse hammers as she drops her hand back onto her lap, stopping short of touching me.

I turn the pen in my hand until I find the small black inscription. It expires in two months. “Is this the only one you have?”

She nods. “I only need one.”

Incorrect. She should have one in her bag and another in her pocket at all times.

There should also be one in every room she enters, and every class she has. Another oversight on the university’s part.

“What type of nuts can’t you eat?”

“Um, just tree nuts.”