Chapter 7 #2
“I… thought I was meeting friends?” Dang it, offering an explanation isn’t supposed to end up sounding like a question. A helpless little sound tears from my chest, and I’m embarrassed to realize my eyes are burning with tears.
“Listen—”
“A paper!” I finally get out, my voice half strangled. “I was definitely there to research a paper.”
Liar.
Luca is a lying liar who lies.
Badly.
I could say it ten times fast and it would still be true.
I glance over at Professor Levine to see if he believes me, trying to hide as best as I can behind the curls falling into my eyes.
I can tell from the way he looks at me again that he doesn’t, but he shrugs one broad shoulder with a displeased sound.
“All right.” And then. “If that’s what you need me to believe. ”
He’s giving me an out, and I don’t know exactly what I did to deserve it. It doesn’t really matter, though, because I’m going to take it. I clench my fingers so hard against my thighs that it starts to hurt as I answer.
“I do.”
His gaze drops to my hand, and he carefully reaches out, tapping against my white knuckles. Just the warm brush of his fingers against my skin is enough to make my entire arm relax, and I blow out a breath.
“Good.”
There’s that word again. It makes me want to melt in my seat, and I know he realizes it, because he’s being really dangerous with his driving, watching me more than the road.
There’s another span of silence where I’m wondering if I can merge with the soft seat beneath me.
I’m not sure if it’s because I’m embarrassed, confused, or because my head is going to that fuzzy place again.
Whatever it is, I let out a small sound when he breaks the quiet. “Which building are you in?”
“The sports dorm,” I answer automatically. When he hikes his brows, I actually manage a grin. “It was a housing error, but my roomie was fine with it.”
Zandy was so nice when he realized he’d been roomed with a nerd like me instead of another football player. He said something about me taking up less space and being fun, and then he’d ruffled my curls.
Of course, things had been perfect until he’d started sneaking mean psychopathic blond guys into the room to confuse me.
I make another small sound, and Professor Levine glances at me again.
“As long as you’re happy with it.”
I blow out a breath as we pull onto the main road to campus. I really should have looked for a club further away so nothing like this could happen. What if I’d run into Zandy and his boyfriend?
God, I don’t even want to think about them at a place like that, probably with Zander in leather and Kerian…
No. Nope. Not doing it.
“I’m happy.” Lying Luca lies again, but…
“Are you?”
God, why does it feel like he can see right through me when he asks the question?
I press my lips together and nod, electing to stay silent instead of somehow messing up further.
I manage to stay that way until we pull into the parking lot attached to my building.
I’m not sure why I hesitate when the car idles, why I feel like I need to say something—anything—to salvage this situation.
Because as much as I messed up, as much as I’m not sure I’m going to be able to look him in the eye ever again…
I still need the TA position. And if I’m being honest with myself, he was completely drowning in paperwork and disorganization without me.
Yeah, I’ll tell myself I’m saving him and that’s why I want to stay. Not because my brain is trying to quietly shuffle away how his body felt near mine for spank bank material later.
Nope. It isn’t that at all.
“Thank you again. And I promise I’m not always this big a… a mess.” His brows knit together at the self-depreciation, so I quickly add, “I’ll do a good job for you in class, I swear.”
That word is plaguing me tonight. It’s like we both realize I said it at the same time. My face goes hot and his attention drops to the jump of my pulse at my throat.
His fingers skate across my knuckles again, and his eyes are dark when he lifts them up to meet mine. “Do you like being good, Luca?”
Oh God. Is it possible to get hard enough that you pass out? I want to sway forward, to fall against him. I want to get lost in the bulge of his pecs beneath his stupidly tight shirt.
“I… I don’t… I mean, I think…”
He leans a little closer, and I whimper. I actually whimper when he tickles his fingers along the back of my hand again in a soft, silent question that I don’t have the answer to.
The tension in the air is so thick it’s like it’s filling my lungs and making it hard to breathe.
I’m choking on how warm his eyes are, how I can remember the feel of Professor Levine pressed against me, like the memory is going to chase me to my grave.
When I’m on my deathbed, I’m going to think “Damn, I really should have let him kiss me.”
And I…
“No… nope… No. I can’t do this.” And then, as fast as I can gasp in the air, I spit the word out again. “Teacher. Teacher, teacher, teacher.” I’m half stumbling out of the car as I say it, completely drowning in the confused and somewhat amused look crossing Professor Levine’s face.
I’ll deal with Zandy figuring out that something is wrong, because I’m very positive that if I stay in that car for another second, I’m going to end up doing something I can’t take back.