49. COLD LUST.

MIA’S POV My heart wouldn’t stop hammering. The hallway outside his office was quiet. I stood there for a second, staring at the dark wood of his door, trying to steady my breath. Then, I lifted my hand and knocked. Once. Twice. “Come in,” his voice came out low. I pushed the door open and walked inside. He was at his desk, sleeves rolled up again, a single lamp casting a warm pool of light over his papers. His head was bowed slightly as he flipped through a file and a pen tapping against the page. He didn’t even look up. “Sit.” That was all he said. I swallowed and crossed the room, listening to my pulse thudding in my ears. The leather chair squeaked softly as I sat down. The air in here felt heavier somehow and scented faintly of his cologne. I clasped my hands in my lap, then unclasped them. My fingers started fidgeting with my thumb, and I rubbed my skin until it tingled. I wanted to say something, but words didn’t even come into my mind. Was this about the essay? Or was it abou