Epilogue
Ivy
S omebody, please pinch me.
I can't believe I've finished my first term in New York.
I can't believe I've fallen in love with my hot professor.
Harrison reaches for my hand, squeezing my fingers as our flight is about to land in Ohio. “Nervous?”
I'm bringing him home to meet my parents. They know I'm coming but don't know I'm bringing a guest. I turn my head and grin as I look at him, amazed he's mine. When I first saw him at the front of the lecture room, all the girls in the class panting for special attention from the cute young Professor Ashe; I never imagined I would be the winner. That he would teach me so much more than famous authors and poets.
He taught me how to love.
“A little.”
“Do you think they'll like me?”
I'vetold Harrison about my parents and my sheltered upbringing. I warned him they wouldn't be openly hostile but might take time to warm up to him. They didn't support my leaving home to begin with. They certainly didn't plan on me meeting an older guy and losing my virginity in the few months I've been away. “They're going to have a million questions.”
Harrison lifts our joined hands presses a kiss to the back of mine. “You have nothing to worry about, Ivy. I'm a big boy. I can handle it.”
His deep voice vibrates through me, shivers claiming every inch of my body. I smile at the memories we've already created: the first time we kissed, him pushing me up against the books in the deserted library, my first time with him on his desk in his office, our sightseeing trips, and then hours in bed afterward in his penthouse.
In January, I'm transferring to another class. Even though he told the dean his colleague marked my work, and it was verified, we decided the optics weren't worth the fight to stay in his class. Thankfully, the other professor also agreed to take me on as her TA. Harrison and I are now free to be a couple in private and in public.
I can't help but think about last night at his apartment. He'd told me he needed one more night with me before leaving for Christmas at my parents' home. Knowing Dad, even if he and Mom accept Harrison in my life, he won't allow us to be together under his roof, and we respect that. We'll have to be creative while we're in Mount Vernon. Maybe I can finally check out the local make-out spots I never had an opportunity to find when I was a kid.
But right now, all I can think about is how he cradled my head as he guided me, showing me how to pleasure him. My name like a prayer on his lips as he fisted my hair and urged me to go faster. His moans as he came down my throat. Then afterward, as I rode him, sliding up and sinking down on his cock while he sat on the couch in the darkened living room of his penthouse apartment, snow falling slowly outside the wall of windows, his Christmas tree lit with white lights casting a warm romantic glow from the corner of the room.
“I know what you're thinking.”He whispers into my ear as the plane starts its descent.
My cheeks flush.
He chuckles low in his chest, and if public displays weren't frowned upon—and we didn't have to remain in our seats with our seat belts fastened and tray tables upright—I would have straddled him right there, frantically moving up and down on his lap as the wheels hit the tarmac.
The plane lands, and while we are taxiing to the terminal, I work feverishly to focus on something less intimate. I don't want Mom to take one look at me, and… Let's just say I want her to like and welcome Harrison because I can't fathom any other option.
After we grab our bags from the baggage claim, we start for the exit hand in hand, and although I’m fearful of how this will go, I’m also excited. I’m bringing home my boyfriend. I purposely did not tell Mom exactly when the flight landed, so I'm more than a little surprised when we step outside, and I nearly run her and Dad down as they head inside.
“Mom?”
“Ivy!”
She wraps me in her arms, and it's like I'm a little girl again—the scents of baking flour and cinnamon cling to her—and I feel like I'm home. Tears well in my eyes.
After leaving Mom's arms, I'm swept up in Dad's. “Hello sweet girl.”He presses a kiss to the top of my head and then hugs me tight. He's never been big on displays of affection—not like Mom—but from the squeeze he's putting on me, he missed me.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Oh my, have we missed you,”Mom's eyes are bright with tears. “I can't believe you've been gone for three whole months. I've been busy baking all your favorites. Your father found the perfect tree, and we've been waiting for you to get home so we can decorate it.”
Dad reaches for my bag and notices Harrison for the first time. “Oh, hello.”He looks at me and returns to Harrison again, confusion tightening his brows.
Mom looks just as puzzled.
I step back beside Harrison and take his hand, drawing their immediate attention. “Mom, Dad, this is Harrison Ashe. Harrison, these are my parents, Margorie and Tom Kendrick.”
Harrison stretches out his hand. “Mrs. Kendrick. Mr. Kendrick. It's nice to meet you both. Ivy has told me so much about you.”
“Has she now? She hasn't said a word about you, Harrison Ashe.”
“Dad.”There'sa warning note in my tone, and he shoots me a look as his eyebrows try their best to meet his receding hairline. “Well? Youhaven't.”
“Harrison, how do you know my daughter?”
I decide not to beat around the bush. They'd find out soon enough anyway. “He was one of my professors, Mom.”
Her gaze flits between us. “But you don't look old enough to be a professor.”
“He's very smart.”
“Not smart enough to keep his hands off my daughter, I'm guessing.”
“Dad!”I can't believe he said that out loud, and in public, but guessing by the disapproving glare, he's not one bit sorry. “Look, why don't we discuss this at home.”I urge them to agree with me, and the ride home is strained, to say the least. But at least they didn't drag me away and leave Harrison stranded at the airport.
During the scenic drive to Mount Vernon, I use the hour-plus ride to update my parents on everything related to school and New York. I excitedly tell them about my apartment, classes, grades, and all the fantastic experiences I've had in the city. In contrast, Harrison sits quietly next to me in the backseat of the car, admiring the festive decorations and snow-covered landscape of the small towns we pass along the way.
I catch Dad's frequent glances in the review, while Mom and I work to keep the conversation upbeat and away from the elephant-in-the-car discussion we'll be having soon enough.
Finally, we arrive at my childhood home. It's a typical middle-class, well-maintained two-story house adorned with strings of white lights, a large wreath mom made years ago on the front door, and garland with red bows hanging from the porch railing. The entire neighborhood radiates a sense of tranquility and holiday cheer, with each house decked out in festive decorations. When I climb from the car, I inhale the fresh wintery air into my lungs, a slow smile spreading wider with each moment that passes.I’ve come to love New York, but it's good to be home.
Harrison and Dad battle to carry the bags—Dad wins—and Harrison follows me into the house. I glance over my shoulder at him, trying to gauge what's going through his mind. He simply shrugs, winks, and grins.
Mom switches on lights as she enters the main living room. “I'll start some coffee.” And she disappears to the kitchen.
Dad removes his coat, takes ours, and nods his head, indicating we should grab a seat.
I lead Harrison to the sofa and take his hand in mind as we sit, resting them on my thigh.
“You can start talking anytime,”Dad says as he drops into his recliner.
“About what?” I ask.
He gives me the look I've seen countless times during my childhood—the one where only his left eyebrow is hiked up and his chin is tilted down. The one that clearly states he’s not pleased with my response.
“We fell in love.”
“I want more than the short story. You were supposed to go to New York to get an education.”
“And I have. I am. And I love it. But I also love Harrison.”
“Your daughter is doing very well, sir. In fact, she's an excellent student.”
Dad gives Harrison a stern look. “Of course she is.”
Mom reappears with a tray of mugs, a pitcher of milk and the sugar bowl, and sets it down on the table before she settles in the armchair. She even included a plate of decorated Christmas cookies. “Help yourselves.”
Nobody moves.
“Tell us about yourself, Harrison. Where are you from?”
I knew I could count on Mom to start the conversation on a civil footing.
“As a child, my parents split our time between New York and Washington, but I now live in New York. I'm an only child, and all I've ever wanted to do is teach. And then I met your daughter.”He swings his adoring gaze toward me. “Now, all I want is to be with her.”
“And how do you plan to support her on a professor's salary? You're so young.”
“I've actually applied for tenure,Ma'am.”
This almost makes me laugh. Though we haven’t specifically discussed it, I’ve come to realize that Harrison is a very rich man.
“At your age?”
“I skipped a few grades.”
“Must have been more than a few,”Dad adds.
“Yes, sir. I've worked very hard in a short time to get to where I am today.”
“I love him, Dad. And he loves me.”
“So you've said.” His attention swings back to Harrison. “How old are you anyway?”
“Old enough to know I love your daughter, sir. I've always considered love at first sight to be a romantic notion fit for romance novels and fairytales. But I can tell you, with all sincerity, from the moment I heard your daughter's voice, turned and saw her standing in my classroom, my heart has belonged to her.”
I think Mom swooned.
Dad, I think he can be swayed.
Me? I may not have been ready for my hot professor when I got to New York. But now I can't imagine a single day without him.