Chapter 24 #2
Grayson gets distracted by the sound, and his eyes shift to Ben.
“They’re only test takes, Professor.” I catch his attention again. “Back to the soup kitchen and Marina…”
He takes a hand out of his pocket and lets out a small chuckle. Click. “As you saw with your own eyes, it’s a unique environment, and Marina is one of the key factors of that unique environment.” Click.
Grayson continues to tell me more of what I already know, but as he talks about the first day at the soup kitchen and how hectic everything was, he runs a hand through his hair while talking and laughs at some of the things Marina did that day. Click.
That’s gotta be the one.
Other than his voice, all I hear are clicks coming from the camera. After a ten-minute conversation and a hundred clicks later, Ben tells him everything is fixed, and they can continue.
I walk past Kamila, who whispers, “It might just be my imagination, but it seems like the professor is crushing on you.”
I sure hope so.
Shrugging, I keep my composure. “If he is, he hasn’t said anything to me about it.”
Not a complete lie—he hasn’t told me that.
Kami smiles warily. “Just be careful, Em.”
“Always.” I smile and walk away, nerves building in my stomach at how I was able to keep a straight face, but Grayson managed to let something slip, even if it was only him looking at me.
After ten more minutes, Ben tells Grayson to take a quick break while he reviews the pictures that have already been taken. Grayson steps back slightly from the lights but remains in the same general area.
“Hey, Em,” Ben says, moving toward his assistant.
“Yeah?”
“Do you have any powder to take away a bit of the shine from his nose?” Thankfully, my coworker whispered that, or else Grayson would’ve been flying out of the door. “It’s not anything major, and I can touch most of it up later, but I don’t want it to look overly edited.”
If only Kamila were here to hear this, but she had to head out to teach her Zumba class.
“Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”
My heart thumps a little faster at the thought of being so close to Grayson in such a public setting. Hopefully, neither of the boys will notice anything.
Opening my large brown purse, I find my makeup bag, which holds blotting papers, translucent powder, and a small brush.
Standing, the heels of my knee-length boots—courtesy of my mom’s gift from Italy—click and the sound catches Grayson’s attention.
He does a quick body sweep and rubs the back of his neck as he looks away.
Yeah, because that makes it any less obvious.
“Hello, Professor.”
“Ms. Haywood,” he says in his formal voice. “Is everything okay with the pictures?”
Nodding, I make sure to keep at least four feet between us. “Everything is great. The shoot is almost done, but I did notice a slight shine on your face that needs some fixing.”
I lift my hand to show him the two products and the brush I’m holding. His eyebrows crease. “Isn’t there some way you can touch it up in the editing process?”
“We will, although this would be a huge help.” Giving my back to the two boys behind me, I offer him an innocent smile, and beg, “Please, Professor? I’d owe you one.” Casting my eyes downward, I see him tucking his hands into his pockets and shifting uncomfortably.
When I swivel my head upward, his pupils are fully dilated. “Careful, Ms. Haywood.”
“With you, I never can be.”
Grayson closes his eyes, as if he’s centering himself and trying not to get hard at me implying owing him a blow job. “Fine.”
“Great. First, I’m going to pat you with one of these.
” I slip a blotting sheet from the open packet and move my hand to begin my work, when I realize the problem with our height difference.
Unlike the other days I’ve seen him, I’m wearing only three-inch heels because these boots go with my outfit, leaving me five-foot-three and him a foot taller. “Can you bend down a bit?”
Letting out a sigh, he leans over until I can reach and see his face properly. “This reminds me of when I’d let my sister put makeup on me when we were kids.”
Stopping all movement, I let out a snort. “No way. I can’t picture a tiny you letting her do that.”
Grayson nods and rolls his eyes. “It happened twice, and it was only because she wouldn’t stop crying,” he states.
“Please tell me that was on the record?” If he keeps sharing personal stories like this, the people reading my article will adore him.
Although with the way things are going, they already will.
These pictures will also work wonders—girls will be drooling over him.
That sparks a flare of jealousy in me, but I mentally blow out the green flame.
We haven’t talked about what’s going on between us yet, so it’s not fair for me to react this way.
His eyes narrow as I tap my brush on the edge of the powder case to remove the excess. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on. It gives me more insight into your and your sister’s relationship.” I pout.
A shadow of annoyance, tinged with defeat, crosses his face. “Fine, but you only say it was once, and I’m not giving you any more details on the record.”
Sweeping the brush on his nose, I smile widely and thank him. “Oh shoot, I almost got powder on your glasses.”
He moves to take them off before I swat his hand, and his eyebrows shoot up. “What was that for?
I lean forward. “Leave them on.”
Grayson’s low chuckle is deep, warm, and all-knowing.
“Are they turning you on, Princess?” he says in a sensual tone that causes my core to tighten and my hand to move slowly across his T-zone.
There he goes with that nickname again. Is it because I act like a princess, or because, to him, I look like one?
Worried that my coworkers are watching us, I glance over my shoulder to find Ben focused on his laptop, explaining something to his assistant.
Grayson takes my chin and turns me back to him.
“Do you want me to fuck you while I wear them? Do you want to pretend I’m your professor?
Is that your fantasy?” His eyes roam and lazily appraise me, focusing on my breasts, which look larger than usual due to the push-up bra I decided to wear.
“That tight plaid skirt is killing me, Emma.”
My body suddenly feels heavy and warm, but still, I attempt to keep a clear head, as difficult as that may be with him talking dirty to me in public. What is it with us and public settings?
“Amelia told me she thinks I’d make a great editor and that I should run for the position at the end of the semester,” I blurt out. “Although features would be my first choice, it’s a great opportunity.”
“Emma, that’s great—”
“If I do well the rest of the semester…” I let that hang in the air.
I want Grayson. My body craves him, but I won’t continue this if he keeps making it obvious that we’re more than just a professor and student. This is me taking a risk on something that doesn’t happen very often.
Understanding clouds his face. “I was offered to teach another course and an extra lab next semester.”
I drop my hand. “Grayson, congrats—” I pause, and we both stand still, taking it all in.
Three minutes ago, he wanted to fuck me, three days ago, he kissed me as if his life depended on it, and last week, he took the risk we’d both been wanting to.
Now, here we are, facing reality. “I did some research on the rules of a professor and student having a non-professional relationship at Driscoll…”
He lets out a short laugh. “Of course you did.”
“And…” I continue, annoyed, “when it comes to the article, things aren’t clear, but since I’m not your student, neither of us would be punished unless we don’t let someone on the university board know.
” Grayson stares at me, not a single lick of surprise on his face.
It doesn’t shock me that he might’ve already known, but why not tell me?
“Maybe we can be cautious now, and in January, we can go public the proper way.”
I stand there, feeling as though I’m going to throw up, waiting for his response.
“Go public with what, exactly?” Grayson asks.
Right, we haven’t spoken about what we want yet.
“Um, uh, I’m not sure,” I say, tripping over my words.
He straightens, a muscle in his jaw ticking before he cracks his neck. “I’m not looking for anything serious right now, Emma. I want to go with the flow.”
“Go with the flow?” What decade are we in? “As in friends with benefits?”
Grayson puts his hands in his pockets, about to answer, when Ben says, “Haywood, I need you out of the shot.”
I put a hand up to silence him. “Professor Hayes is answering an extremely important question right now, Ben. I need a minute.”
He scoffs. “You’re the boss.”
Looking back at Grayson, I catch his nostrils flaring. “He likes you, you know?”
My eyes widen, and I glare at him. “Oh no. You do not get to switch topics. Not when it’s something as important as where this is going. Besides, you don’t want anything serious. I’m assuming that means we aren’t going to be exclusively fucking each other.”
“I don’t share either, Emma,” he practically growls.
“Then what do you want?”
Grayson mumbles a curse and taps his foot. “I’m not sure, okay? Can we talk about this after the photo shoot?”
“God, you can be so…so…”
“So what?”
“Insufferable,” I grit out. “I swear, you drive me crazy sometimes.”
His sarcastic laugh catches Ben’s attention, and I give my coworker a reassuring smile before turning my focus back to Grayson.
“You drive me fucking nuts, Emma,” he whisper-yells. “You’re in my head all the fucking time, but I just went through a divorce, and I need some time.”
I flinch at his last statement. It sounds as if he is genuinely confused about how to feel, yet he said I’m in his head all the time, and that has to mean something.
“Why did you get a divorce?”
His eyes close, and he shakes his head. He’s been putting it off for too long, and I need to know. He takes a moment, and his lips tighten. “Off the record.”
“Of course,” I confirm.
“We got married too young, she moved to Europe for me, and that caused resentment throughout the years. It led to a lot of pointless fighting, and eventually we fell out of love with each other.” I don’t move, expecting something dramatic.
“We were separated for a while, but it was over long before then. We finalized the divorce, as you already know, and moved on. We haven’t spoken in months, but overall, it was amicable and neither one of us holds any resentment toward the other. ”
I stare at him wordlessly. That’s it? I mean, of course it means a lot, he was married to the woman, but why was he so reluctant to talk about it? It’s not even interesting enough to put in the article.
“Is that enough?” He continues to tap his foot impatiently.
“What’s her name?”
He hesitates for only a moment. “Chloe. Now is that enough?”
“Yes. Thank you for telling me.”
He gives me a quick dip of his chin. “As I said before, I need some time.”
Nodding, I close the container of powder. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats.
“But, Grayson,” I speak quickly. His eyes bore into mine with impatience. “If all you want is something casual and you see absolutely no future between us—”
“I never said I didn’t,” he interrupts. “I just need some time right now. If you can grant me that and keep this between the two of us for the rest of the semester, I’m willing to take a chance.”
My hands tremble slightly as I take him in—his eyes, the creases in his forehead, and the sincerity in his body language.
It’s a huge ask. I’m not only risking my heart getting broken if I fall for him, but I’m also risking my future on the paper.
I’m assuming I won’t be punished if we’re discovered, and he will most likely get a warning.
Still, it could ruin his reputation at the university and mine at the Driscoll Wolf Weekly.
Is he worth it? Is he worth going on this venture with?
The article won’t be edited or published until our big December issue. In between that, we can’t tell anyone, or it’ll be too obvious.
And then what? I’ve never done this before, and I can’t help but picture two scenarios. One where we end things in a few weeks or months, and another where we become something more in January, eventually gaining acceptance from others at the university.
Could we be more? Would my friends feel comfortable hanging out with someone ten years older than them—and I’m getting way ahead of myself.
I need to think small for now if this is going to work.
I also need to set a couple of ground rules that people often forget in this kind of situation. I only hope he respects them.
“Just promise me two things.” If he says yes to this, then I know it’ll be worth it.
“What?”
“One, we’re only sleeping with each other. I don’t want to feel jealous or have you feel jealous, and I don’t want to worry about STDs.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He nods, not a hint of doubt on his face.
“Okay, and…if you get cold feet, we’re talking about ‘barely dipping your toes in room temperature water’ kind of cold, you’ll tell me so we can end things right then and there.
Grayson doesn’t hesitate. “I will.”
My shoulders sag in relief. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
“We’d better get back to this photo shoot.” I begin to walk away. “Oh, and Professor?”
“Yes, Ms. Haywood?”
“From now on, I expect you to text me back within a reasonable time, not twenty-four hours later.” He smirks, and I walk over to Ben. “He’s all yours.”
“Took you long enough. Must’ve been one hell of a question.” A click goes off.
“You have no idea.”