Chapter 34 #2
“Nothing. I think you’ve got it,” he responded, even lower. “You’re going to do well on the exam. I knew that before we started reviewing.”
“You did?”
“Yes.” His stare cut back to mine. We weren’t touching, but we were both holding the same blue dry erase marker, which was almost close enough. “And you need to believe in yourself more.”
“I don’t—”
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
“You?” I questioned, confused.
“Yes. Me. Do you think me unintelligent?”
“No…”
“I didn’t think so. And I believe in you. Your abilities. Your knowledge.”
He was the dark between the trees, and I was already lost in him.
“Okay,” I breathed, blood heating my cheeks.
My wanting felt sharp, like a blade held too close to the skin, like he already had too much power over me. But still, I wanted the hurt. I wanted.
He released the marker.
━━━━━
I worked on homework for most of the afternoon, utilizing Dr. Killshaw’s expertise when I got stuck on tougher problems. Sometimes, he needed my help with data collection, or asked me to hold tools for him while he fixed things.
Now, we were eating dinner at the cafeteria on campus, which was a little weird.
It was almost entirely deserted. When we finished eating, we started the walk back to Stanton, not talking much.
The stars looked pretty and the air was cooling down for the night, a few lonely crickets chirping from bushes.
“What made you change your focus?” I asked, referring to his switch from neon-based research to sustainability, wanting to make myself sound more mature by asking about his work.
“My interests changed. And I figure it’s important to ensure the Earth stays inhabitable, don’t you?”
“Yes. It was just such a specific focus you had before, so I wondered what made you drop it.” My boots scuffed on the sidewalk, contrasting with the polished sound of his nicer shoes.
I liked the contrast, liked how put-together he was compared to me.
Older, smarter, steadier. “If anything,” I added.
“There was no sudden change in heart, rather a loss of interest over time.”
“I see.”
“How long have you worked at the gas station?”
I paused for a second, somewhat surprised he remembered. “Almost three years.”
“Do you like it?”
“I like my manager. The job is fine.” I shrugged.
He was quiet after that, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable.
I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my hoodie, curling my fingers into fists to warm them.
My foolish heart yearned for his touch, his warmth, his care.
Some parts of me hated how much space he’d grown to take up in my head, but I knew I wouldn’t clear him out even if I could.
And I believe in you.
Back in the lab, the atmosphere felt heaver. It’d shifted, darkened with the late hour.
Dr. Killshaw didn’t speak at all, drawn back into the focus-state of his work. I wanted to sink into his silence and never be found, anchor myself on this steadiness.
Ancient fir trees, soft moss underfoot, rain-damp rocks, pine needles, the elusive sound of black feathers held by whispering winds, a labyrinth of shadows. Not a place to be violently swept under a wave, but to willingly dissolve myself into nothingness.
The back of my mind warned me to stop with this tangled line of thinking, but my body begged otherwise. My heart begged otherwise.
Dr. Killshaw was crouched forward, messing with some valve on the column, his shirt pulling tight around his shoulders, the leather of his expensive shoes creasing.
Desire skated up my spine, sprawling through every inch of my body in a tantalizing wave.
His brows were pulled together, eyes focusing.
Would you take care of me if I let you? Is that what you meant?
I crossed my legs, my veins feeling too tight, swollen with wanting.
“Could you hand me that?” he asked, pointing to a rag, already smudged with grease. I got off my stool and grabbed it from the opposite counter, then handed it to him, lower lip trapped between my teeth.
He used the cloth to carefully clean away some excess grease around a fitting, every movement of his fingers precise.
I leaned back, my butt pressed to the edge of the counter next to him.
His hair was less perfect than it’d been this morning, and I loved when it started looking like this. Proof of the day’s toll on him, proof of his effort. He wiped his hand on a clean corner of the rag, then raked his fingers through that thick blond hair, rising to his full height.
His lids lowered as he stared down at me.
I was so caught up in him already it should’ve embarrassed me, but my arousal only pulsed stronger.
Feverishly, helplessly. I knew he could see all my emotions in my eyes, and I had no strength to hide them.
There was something unspeakably intimate in this late hour, in our isolation; it made me warm.
“You should be careful with the way you look at me,” Dr. Killshaw said, not loudly but firmly. “Someone might think you mean it.”
His voice scorched me, low and cold, and shame flushed hotter than the want already biting into my spine.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my brain too clouded to figure out anything else to say.
Heat knotted deep in me, and all I could think of was his teeth against my skin, biting down until I broke. Hurting me, taking me, ruining me. Would he want me like that? Rough and messy? Or did he want something different? To dismantle me slowly, piece by piece, until I was nothing…
“You only breathe like that when you’re afraid of yourself,” he murmured, always observing my every minuscule reaction.
“I can’t help that.” Each additional word from my mouth exposed me further, and I couldn’t stop it. With him, I was so weak.
“No?” he teased.
Every look he gave me made me wetter. Pathetic.
My stomach clenched, hard and sharp, when I glanced at his lips, thinking about what they could do to me. His mouth, warm and wet on my body, skillfully turning me into a trembling mess.
He spoke again before I got the chance. “You’d let me, wouldn’t you?”
“Let you what?” I could hardly get enough oxygen to my brain, my breath stuttering like my chest couldn’t keep up. Feverish heat slithered under my flushed skin.
But he didn’t answer me.
He looked away, lightly smiling to himself as he left me for the computer.
I stared at the back of him for a solid minute, trying to catch my breath, to untangle the aroused mess claiming my thoughts.
You’d let me, wouldn’t you?
Yes. I’d let you do anything you wanted to me. Fucking anything.
With my heartbeat in my ears, drowning out all rational thought, I managed to make my way back over to my stool, sitting down and resting my head on my crossed arms on the table.
My body was tired of all the back and forth, the tension that kept pulling tighter within me begging to snap.
I’d been slowly losing my mind from the day I first met Dr. Killshaw, and I feared there wasn’t much time left until it was entirely gone.