How did he know my name?
How the f**k did he know my name?
I had never spoken to him. I had never taken his class before. This was my first day in this room. He hadn’t asked us to introduce ourselves. There hadn’t been a roll call. No paper passed around. No name tags. No introductions.
So how. Did. He. Know.
He didn’t look confused.
He wasn’t guessing.
He said my name like it belonged to his mouth.
My whole body went stiff in the chair. My palms were damp. My thighs pressed together under the desk. I wasn’t breathing right.
“Elena Vale,” he repeated, and the sound of it the second time made my stomach twist tighter.
Oh my Goddess. I think I was wet. Not from anything he did. Not from anything he touched. Just from his voice. From the sound of my name on his tongue.
Zia’s fingers
