31. Eleanor #3
The sudden change in him takes me by surprise, and I melt against his chest, burying my nose in his shoulder, inhaling his musky sandalwood scent.
He shoves everything from his desk, sending papers, his nameplate, pens, and empty coffee cups clattering onto the carpet, and leans over me, sinking inside me on a long sigh.
“Much better.” His elbows fall beside my head, chest flush with mine, and I wrap my legs around him as he kisses me tenderly. “Now I can see that beautiful face as you come undone.”
“And I can see yours,” I breathe, stroking his beard, gazing at him.
The look in his eyes hits me like a jolt of lightning straight to the heart—raw, reverent, stunned, as if he can’t believe I’m his.
And I know, in this moment, that I’ve fallen in love with him. That whatever happens between us, I’m not prepared to give him up.
My throat tightens at the realization, my pulse scattering. I blink rapidly to clear the emotion welling in my eyes, breath catching.
I love him. I love him.
“Baby,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to mine, hands on my face, in my hair, like he knows what I’m thinking, how I feel. He doesn’t say anything more as we move wordlessly, mouths fused, bodies in sync until we reach our breaking point.
We collapse together in a breathless heap, limbs entangled, his hand still cradling the back of my neck as if he can’t quite let go. Our breathing slows, but the ache in my chest doesn’t. I don’t know if it’s from the intensity of what just happened, or the fear of what it means.
Eventually, the hard wood under my back becomes too much, and we peel ourselves apart.
He tucks himself back into his pants, motioning to his private bathroom in the corner of his office.
I wash up, hands shaking, wondering how he feels.
If it’s what I feel. If he’d ever consider taking the risk of making this something more than stolen moments in his office.
Theo leans against his desk, deep in thought, gaze lifting when I enter.
I don’t have the courage to ask what I really want, so instead I simply say, “I think Margaret knows.”
“You might be right. And…” He grimaces. “Danny knows too. He didn’t say anything outright, but…”
My pulse scrambles. Danny knows? Margaret I was less worried about, because her job is to support Headmaster Wright, but Danny?
“Will they report us?” I ask breathlessly.
Theo considers this. “I don’t think so. Both of them seem to be surprisingly supportive.”
I let my breath out in a long stream, not feeling the relief I should. Because it’s not a solution, is it? It’s a Band-Aid over an already precarious situation.
“We can’t keep doing this.” It’s not what I mean to say, but it comes out anyway.
“I know,” he murmurs, wiping a hand over his beard. “As hot as it is, you’re right. I’m tired of sneaking around.”
My heart falls. Is he ending this? Because that’s not what I meant.
He gazes at me for a long moment, releasing a weary sigh. “It’s Veteran’s Day weekend tomorrow. Come to the city with me, sweetheart. Just you and me. Let’s find out what this is when no one’s watching.”
Oh. Wow.
“Really?” I breathe.
He nods, smiling hopefully, and my heart stutters. A weekend in New York with Theo. I want that. Want him. But more than that, I want to see what we are when we’re not hiding behind school schedules and titles. Behind closed doors and fundraiser meetings.
The reminder brings me crashing back to reality.
“We can’t.” I rub my forehead in agitation. “We’re only one week out from the fundraiser…”
He reaches for my hand, so gentle. “I meant what I said in the meeting last week. You’ve worked hard. You deserve a break.”
“But—”
“We’re on schedule. We have support from the team. We’ll only go for one night. The fundraiser won’t fall apart if we take one night off. Besides, you’re the one who said we need to do things outside of work sometimes, remember?”
He’s right, but there’s something else gnawing at me.
Guilt.
That’s what it is. What it’s always been. I feel so damn guilty about being with him, about acting on this, that I’ve been working round the clock on Safe Harbor to overcompensate for it. And now that I stop to reflect on that, I can see it’s taken all the joy out of it.
Even with my class, I’ve been designing increasingly complicated lessons, bringing home extra work to do. It’s like I’m trying to prove this thing with Theo won’t affect my work.
And with Theo, it’s the same. Guilt. I know he feels it too, in his way, but I’m so consumed by it that I won’t let myself spend any time with him.
Instead, we’re reduced to clandestine meetings in the copy room, his office.
And while that’s fucking hot, there’s no room for a true relationship to grow.
I sigh, realizing the irony. I finally have two things that really matter to me—the fundraiser and Theo—and I won’t let myself enjoy either. I’m too busy punishing myself for wanting something I’m not supposed to want.
And I’m tired of it. Tired of feeling bad about something—someone—that makes me feel so good.
I gaze at his handsome face, waiting patiently for me to answer, and decide I can’t do this anymore. Can’t keep punishing myself. Can’t keep agonizing over how wrong it is.
Not when everything about Theo feels right.
“Yes,” I breathe, pressing my mouth to his. “Let’s go to the city.”