Chapter Sixteen
I figured that the library would be a safe spot to study after my embarrassing scene in the parking lot last night. Plus, the fact it was quiet was an added bonus since I was currently nursing a hangover from hell.
Unfortunately, it was really bright in here. Very, very bright. I desperately wanted to wear my sunglasses, but I didn’t want to attract attention to myself; instead, I just suffered.
“I’m never drinking again,” I mumbled to myself as I laid my head down on the table, so imagine my surprise when someone answered me.
“I figured you’d be struggling this morning,” Tobias said. “Here, I brought you something. Caramel macchiato, right?”
I looked up at him through half-squinted eyes. “You remembered?”
How did he manage to look so good when I felt like death? Oh yeah, because he wasn’t the one who drank Melissa’s Jungle Juice like it was Kool-Aid last night.
“Of course,” he said, sliding the cup over to me.
I take the to-go cup from him and take a small sip. It wasn’t as hot as I expected, so I took a bigger gulp. “Thank you.”
“So about last night,” he began.
I groaned. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I’m so embarrassed.”
“Why? You have no reason to be.”
“Oh, sure. I just got drunk and then threw myself at you like some hussy. What’s embarrassing about that?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Do you have any idea how much control I had to exert last night?” he asked, and I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.
“I have an idea,” I said, thinking about how hard it was even now not to reach out and touch him. “But…”
“I had to stop us last night. It wasn’t the right time, but more importantly, if we are going to go there, I’m going to need you to be sober first,” he said with a smirk. “But I also need to know it’s what you actually want. After all, you have spent an exorbitant amount of energy trying to convince me that we can’t be together because I was your teacher.”
“TA,” I clarified, as he had so many times before. “Not my teacher.”
“Ah, so you finally see the light.”
“What can I say? I’m a slow learner,” I said with a shrug, wondering when it was exactly that I changed my tune. Maybe it was after he took me sledding? Or maybe when he thoughtfully hunted down my favorite ice cream? Or maybe it was the way my body reacted when we were together. But one thing was for certain, there was no point denying that what I felt for him was no longer friendship. I wanted more. And why shouldn’t we see where this went? After all, as he had repeatedly pointed out, we weren’t that different—I mean, we both were technically students after all.
“Good,” he said, pulling me up to my feet and keeping my hands firmly in his own. “Because there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. Somewhere between that day we met in the park and then finding out I was your teacher—”
“Not my—” I started, but he gently pressed his finger to my lips, interrupting me.
“Tamsin,” he said, exasperated. “I’m trying to say something here. Somewhere between all of that—all the secret looks,our inside jokes, and everything in between—I realized that I have fallen for you.”
And just like that, everything made sense in the world. Everything I had been trying to deny, since that cold day in December when we first met, melted away like snow in a spring rain.
Our second kiss was slower, sweeter, no longer desperate, but rather an act of confirmation of our feelings that we were both finally ready to contently accept.
“We should go somewhere,” I said, breathless.
“My place?” he suggested, after all my dorm room wasn’t exactly private.
“Yes,” I agreed.
Tobias lived in a townhouse not far from campus. It was brick with cream trim and an olive-green door.He unlocked it and held open the door for me as I entered, and it looked exactly how I imagined it would.
The front entrance opened right into his living room. The walls were a deep burgundy and there was the faint smell of leather, citrus wood polish, and old books, which made sense because the room was full of bookcases on three of the four walls, each one as tall as the ceiling and overflowing with books. His tan leather couch had a cream, hand-knitted throw blanket and mismatched pillows that looked cozy, and the space looked just like I would have expected the living room of a self-proclaimed professional student like Tobias to look like. What I hadn’t expected was the cat; nor was I expecting the cat to be hairless.
“Um, what’s that?” I asked teasingly when the pinkish creature greeted us at the door.
“That’s Atticus.”
“As in Finch?” I asked, and he nodded with a smile. “You know, I should have known you were a cat person, but I never would have guessed the hairless variety. Aren’t these things extremely expensive?”
“He was discounted,” he said with an affectionate smile. He picked him up and held out his paw. “See the fur on his paws and tail? Well, the breeder who imported him from the Ukraine didn’t want any fur on her cats, so she sold him to me for cheap.”
“He’s from the Ukraine?”
“Has his own passport and everything.”
“Your cat has seen more of the world than I have.”
“That’ll change.” He put Atticus back on the ground, and the cat weaved through his legs purring louder than I had ever heard a cat purr before. I wondered if all cats purred that loudly, but it was just muffled on regular cats by their fur.
“So how come you never mentioned you are a cat person?” I asked, reaching down to pet Atticus. His skin was warm and softer than I expected, almost like a warm peach.
“Must have just slipped my mind,” he said. “What about you? Cats or dogs?”
“Definitely cats,” I said, continuing to pet Atticus. He licked my hand with his sandpaper tongue. “Look, he likes me.”
He smiled. “So, um, want the grand tour?”
I nodded and followed him down the hall from the living room into a small kitchen, with black and white tile, a huge window above the sink, and a sliding glass door that opened into a small backyard.There wasn’t a kitchen table, but I supposed there wasn’t a need for one since he lived alone. Well, assuming you didn’t count Atticus.
“Bathroom is there if you need it.” He pointed to a closed door before leading me up the wooden staircase.
I realized the only room left to see was his bedroom, and that thought alone had my heart racing. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous. I knew where this was going as soon as he invited me to his house, but something about being just steps away from his bedroom had my stomach doing somersaults.
“This is my room,” he stated, which was obvious. The bed was large with a mahogany headboard and dark gray bedding that almost looked black.There was a stack of books on his bedside table, including the copy of Lonesome Dove I got him, along with a half-empty cup of coffee.
He trailed a finger down my spine, and I shivered in response as I turned to meet his gaze. We picked up where we left off in the library. He brushed his lips across my jawline, ending at my mouth, as his hands were tangled in my hair. He eased us both toward his bed.