“You could totally pull it off.” She laughs in agreement before I slam the car door and walk inside. The hallway lights are on energy saver and won’t flick to full power for another twenty minutes. I head to the classroom and find it empty. Nate must be in his office.
I put my bag down and walk back down the corridor to find him. I stop in front of a massive oak door and knock. The plaque to the right of the door says NATHAN SMITH and gives office hours below.
The door swings open, and I’m face to face with him again. He’s looking at me funny, almost like he feels sorry for me. I don’t do pity, so I act like it’s not there. “Hey, you wanted to talk?”
“Yes, please come in," he says, standing aside while holding the door for me. As I walk past him, the scent of his cologne hits me hard. It’s the same scent he wore the night we met. It’s perfect for him and that artistic, shy, and confident thing he has going on.
I stop in front of his desk and turn around to see that he didn’t close the door all the way. Male teachers do that when they’re alone with a female student. It’s supposed to make things less awkward, but it makes me think of sexy things neither of us should think about or want. I'll have to change my major to French Lit after tonight. I’ve alienated all my friends in this department, and I know I’ll have to be around them for the next few years. Too bad I can’t speak French. Maybe I should be a PE major. I already own the wardrobe.
Nate stops my inner ramblings, “I appreciate your offering to model for this class, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
I bristle. I didn’t expect him to do this. “Why?”
“Kerry, you’ve lost all your friends over this, and I’m hearing uncomfortable rumors. Coupled with the incident in the quad today, it’s just not prudent. I’m afraid I need to ask you to quit.” Nate is standing between me and the door. I refuse to rush out in a burst of tears. Actually, I’m pissed.
I keep my temper in line and shake my head. I find enough confidence to pull it off and spit out the word. “No.”
He flinches, surprise blowing apart the serene expression on his face. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am. I’m staying. I’m going to get ready.” I point past him and step forward, but he doesn’t move.
My forehead is at his lips. I stand there and stare at a pearly white button on his blue shirt. “Kerry,” he breathes my name, and when I feel his finger under my chin, lifting my face up toward him, I want to melt into his chest. I want his arms around me. Why does this guy feel like home? I’m a fucking nomad. I don’t belong anywhere, so I don’t understand this reaction.
My chest fills with warm, muted hope. I won’t let it grow beyond recognizing how he makes me feel. It’s not reciprocal, not like that anyway. He thinks I’m hot and likes my voice. That’s a million miles away from 'you feel like you’re part of me.' I could write a manual on how to get rid of a guy in ten minutes or less. I should ask him about having my babies and just get it over with.
Then his hand is on my arm, just above the elbow. His fingers brush against my bare skin and images flash behind my eyes of the night we were together, of slick skin on skin, of the way he felt beneath my fingers. I nearly choke and step back. I can’t endure his touch and still hold the crazy thoughts inside my head. They’ll tumble out of my mouth like an old lady tripping down a flight of stairs.
I force a smile, and he just watches me, standing there—close enough to kiss, but far enough to not touch. My heart pounds harder, thrumming in my ears. It sounds like a death march. I know what’s coming, what he’s going to say. If I stay, he goes. I feel it.
When his lips part, I don’t want to hear the words, so I back away and hang my head. “If it means that much to you, I’ll find a different job.”
The corners of his lips lift. He seems surprised. “Kerry, thank you. You have no idea how much that means t
o me.”
I glance up at him and see the relief on his face. His blue eyes soften and lock on mine. He steps toward me and wraps his arms around me, hugging me tight. At first, I want to pull away, but it could be the last time he touches me like this, so I stay. I wrap my arms around his waist and hold on tight. When I look up, he smiles down at me.
“I’m glad I met you. I’m glad you’re in my class.”
“Really? Why? It just jacked everything up.”
“Maybe fate wanted us to be something other than a one night stand.” He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips.
My eyes close and my knees turn to jelly. He’s kissing me. What the hell just happened? I don’t get it. One second he’s telling me goodbye and the next his mouth is on mine. I’m still his student. I’m still in his class. This relationship still can’t happen.
“Hey, Nate! I’m sorry, but I think I’m going to have to drop tonight’s class.” Carter’s voice comes from the hallway at first and then he pushes inside.
We break apart quickly, but it’s too late. He saw us together.
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