Only the Dons

**ROMANY**

*Matthew's new girlfriend?*

As far as I know, Matthew only ever dated one woman during his tenure at the university, and that was when he first got hired. Coincidentally, she was also the Dean at that time. Marjorie Albrook. She was replaced the year *prior* to my attendance and unsurprisingly for most, she left the job as single as she began it. The entire fiasco had all the makings of a scandal, but Matthew never caught any fire for it the way he should have. Even when Marjorie made routine visits to the campus to humiliate Matthew, accusing him of doctoring his college transcripts and claiming she caught him flirting with students online, the presses remained cold.

Other than Dean Albrook, I couldn't think of one single consort, besides Charlotte Scottsdale and I *would not* be dragging her into this.

*Unless... it's me he's talking about!*

Scowling at him with sudden apprehension, I snap my teeth at his fingers on the seat, hiding my annoyance when he eludes me yet again, and places his hand flat on the other side. "I *was not* his girlfriend at that time," I practically growl, my chin jerking up and out from behind his butter soft jacket as I pull it in closer and shrug my terry cloth sleeves through the arms.

*There! Now if he decides to leave as abruptly as he did before, he can go without his perfectly tailored coat!*

The left side of Mickey's mouth quirks up, hiking into a half smile as he gazes sadly at some point past my shoulders. "But *you were* kissing him," he rasps out, his voice thick with some buried emotion from the past as his eyes drag back toward my own. The muscles of his jaw pulse avidly, his eyebrows drawing together and forming a strained line between them. "I felt like I'd been punched in the chest when I saw it. Nothing had ever hit that way," Mickey admits with a low, guttural growl. "That's when I finally let myself see how ridiculous I was being. Chasing shadows and wandering after a girl that didn't even know what she had just done to me." The line between his brows deepens for a second and he rips his gaze downward when he says, "But this time... you knew. And fuck if it didn't hurt in just the same way."

I gasp, my arms throbbing with the urge to reach for him. But I already know he won't let me. He'll just knock my hands away and press himself farther back into the door, so I scoot a good five inches forward instead and although he notices, he doesn't remark on it.

I shake my head at him, the back of my throat tingling as blood rushes up from my neck so quickly it's painful. "I didn't know you were there! Alex said you were all gone! And just because I said what I said to him, that doesn't mean-" "Don't!" Mickey snaps, his muscles coiling, and his leg bouncing again. "Do not even attempt to feel sorry for me! I am not a charity case."

*sorry for you*?" I retort, recoiling from him with a snap of my neck. *Is he serious? Are all of these fucking mafia dudes as equally self-centered as Alex DeMarco and his cousin Mickey? Does this fool honestly believe that it is him that I should be feeling sorry for? And why? Because he purposefully walked into the room, knowing that Alex

like a drunken Sunday School Teacher who woke up in a bar instead of the church and Mickey

rising and

he's contemplating murder. Swallowing down the last of my amusement, I flip the bitch switch at the forefront of my brain to max power and throw every thread of talent that I may or may not possess into this next act. "You think I should feel sorry *for you?! You?"*

transformation of my face from sweet little doll to mad minx must truly be something to behold because every trace of cold bleeds from Mickey's eyes and what is left is a cross between panic and self righteous suffering. He doesn't *like* being called a jerk, and it appears he *really* never expected to hear *me* accuse him of being one. "Well... I..." he begins, only falling into silence when

a whine. "I hate you so

for a moment, but then it is as if he is reevaluating everything

to do with his obsessing over me and has *everything* to do with what we lost

his gaze

Stalker in the entire world," I snark, catching his ever changing gaze and then allowing all that I'm feeling to wander into my eyes. "You don't have to tell me, but I'm going to assume that after you saw Matthew and I *kissing-"* I wince, hoping that my sudden shiver of disgust is visible "-that you left in a hurry." I pause for a moment, studying him as he grants me a quick nod. "Why?" I moan out, sadness trickling from every pore in my body as the night in question filters into my mind. There are only a handful of times that Matthew has ever kissed me in public, and only

mean, why?" Mickey asks, his voice growing thick with regret. "I

said you were obsessed with me," I

something?" Mickey mimics. "Do something like what,

to me on any other day! We could have been friends,

risk your life, just to

we could've been *more!"*

*on*, doll. I was practically humping your leg that first day I met you here. You had *zero* interest. You weren't

head jerks up, my eyes narrowing. "And you think for some

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