Chapter 16
Cara
I can’t believe I slept with my professor. What was I thinking?
Like, sure, it might have been the very best sex of my life, but the entire situation is so out of character for me.
Christ. I haven’t even heard from him since I left his office yesterday, and I’m honestly starting to feel a little used.
Not that I expected him to email me right away, but it’s been a whole day.
The rational part of my brain tells me this is normal for him. Our communication always has these gaps. Pockets of time that I never questioned before we slept together. Deep down, I hoped it would be different now.
Even though I’ve been keeping busy with assignments and coursework, that thought lingers in the back of mind. God, what have I done?
When I finally had enough of my moping, I messaged Reagan and asked if she wanted to go shopping.
My best friend is a die-hard shopper, so it was an automatic “hell yes, bitch.” It’s not often I initiate the whole mall date thing, so I’m not surprised when she picks me up in Carter’s car and demands to know what’s going on.
“Alright, harlot, spill. You rarely enjoy spending hours at the mall, let alone being the one to bring it up. What’s going on?”
I sigh, not ready to tell her what actually happened. “I just needed a break from studying and overthinking, that’s all. This semester is kicking my ass.” There. That’s not technically a lie.
She glances at me from the corner of her eye but says nothing. I don’t think she fully believes me, but she doesn’t press. My best friend knows I’ll share when I’m ready.
I turn up the music, letting the energetic beat flow through me until we’re both singing and dancing as we drive down the highway toward the mall. When she’s parked the car, she pulls her sun visor down to reapply her lip gloss in the mirror, and I check my phone.
There’s a notification from him.
I swipe it away when I sense Reagan watching me.
Shit. Did she see it? I don’t even know what it said, but just having his name on my screen would be incriminating enough.
Not to mention I don’t know if I’m ready to see what it says, which is funny considering how disappointed I’ve been that I haven’t heard from him.
I’m an absolute mess.
But it’s fine. He took this long to message me after fucking my brains out yesterday, and despite how badly I want to see what he wrote, I’m not going to rush. He can be the one to stew this time.
I tuck my phone back into my crossbody bag, resolve settling in my gut, and catch Reagan watching.
She obviously saw my reaction, but I can’t tell if she saw his name on my screen.
She tilts her head, and I nod, giving her the slightest bit of reassurance that I’m okay.
Someday I’ll tell her what happened, but things are just too messy right now.
How can I explain it to her when even I don’t know what’s going on between Lucian and me?
“Coffee first?”
“Duh,” I reply, and just like that things are back to normal.
After we grab iced coffees, we make our way through each floor of the mall, stopping at any and all stores that catch our eye.
We try on shoes and each buy a surprise bag from this cute little accessory store that we open immediately.
Each bag has a large claw clip, earrings, a scrunchie, and a few other hairpins.
We trade claw clips without even having to ask each other.
The one in Reagan’s bag was a cute butterfly, and the one in mine was black and glittery, so it just made sense to swap.
With our hair pulled back in our new clips, we keep going until we each have a few bags to lug around. At this point, I’m kind of done with shopping. We still have one more floor to go through, but two hours of shopping is long enough if you ask me.
Reagan is in the changing room of her favorite boutique, so I take the quiet moment alone to read Lucian’s email.
Sorry for taking so long to respond. Do you have any more questions about the feedback on your latest assignment? If our chat yesterday didn’t clear things up, I’d be happy to discuss further.
Despite how inappropriate this is, I’d love to see you. Will you come to my place?
Lucian
My eyes scan over the words once, then twice. I can’t tell for certain, but I’m pretty sure he’s being funny. As long as discussing my assignment is an innuendo for the magical things that man did to my body, I’m in. But to invite me to his place? That kind of feels like a big step for us.
You fucked the man in his office. Seeing where he lives normally happens before you see his dick.
At the thought of our hot and heavy moment together, I hope he wants to meet and offer further discussion in the form of orgasms. My reply is short and sweet, agreeing to meet later and asking for the location.
His response comes as Reagan struts out to show off a one-piece romper with a long skirt that doesn’t connect in the front and reveals cute shorts underneath. Honestly, she looks hot.
When she returns to the changing room, I read his email and almost can’t believe it.
Not only did he give me his phone number, but the address he sent is mine.
Reagan and I shop for another hour before she drops me off at home. I check in on Cooper and find he’s managed to get the nametag off. Again. I promise him I’ll find something better and ask that he leave it on until I do. I’m pretty sure he understands, but I’ll never know for sure.
Once his tag is back on, I take him for a quick walk so he can pee before I shower and change my clothes.
I have no idea if this meeting with Lucian qualifies as a date or not, so I keep it casual with comfortable wide-legged pants, a tank top, and a cardigan.
The bra and underwear set underneath is anything but casual, though.
I just haven’t decided yet whether I’ll let him see them.
I check the time on my phone. When I got home, I’d sent him a text to confirm. I’m right on time as I stand in the lobby of my apartment building—or I guess our apartment building. How have I not run into him before now?
If it were anyone else, I might think he’s stalking me or something, because this is one hell of a coincidence, but for Lucian this just makes sense.
This place is the perfect distance from campus.
It’s partly why I chose it, though Mom had more to do with that choice.
She said all the other places nearby were “dumps” and that “no child of mine would live in a rundown place like that.”
Hopefully, his reasons for living here are more selfish.
A door opens behind me, and I turn to find Lucian exiting the stairwell. The smile that stretches across his face when he sees me is infectious. Damn, he looks good in a simple T-shirt and shorts. That chain I saw before is still there, peeking from beneath his collar.
“You found the place okay?” he asks, further solidifying my belief that he has no clue I live here.
“Crazy story, but I actually live here.”
His eyes widen and then narrow playfully. “You’re not stalking me, are you?” he asks, his voice holding the same tone he had that first day in class when he asked if I was going to stand there all day and stare. Why is it so freaking hot?
I shrug. “That’s classified.”
He chuckles. “Come on. I’m on the fourth floor.”
Even though he’s standing in front of me, we haven’t touched. I want to reach out and hug him, take his hand, anything to have contact, but I know it’s safer if we keep our distance. For all we know, there could be other professors living here, too.
We enter the elevator alone, and electricity races across my back at the thought of all the things we can do in here, but before the doors shut, an older woman comes in.
Beatrice lives on my floor. She’s a sweetheart who always smells like freshly baked bread and has even given me a loaf or two when she’s baked too much.
“Cara! How are you, dear? Is this your boyfriend?” She eyes Lucian up, not bothering to hide it. “A big strapping boy like this must help control that new beastie you have.”
I laugh, feeling awkward. “So nice to see you, Beatrice! This is my—” I almost say professor before I catch myself. “Friend. Just my friend.” Without knowing exactly what it is Lucian wants to talk about, friend seems like the easiest answer for now.
“Uh huh,” Beatrice says before snorting. “I may be old, dear, but I know sexual tension when I feel it. Might be time to kiss and end both of your suffering.”
Oh God. She did not just say that.
Lucian laughs as he grabs my hand, lifting it to his mouth where he places a kiss on the inside of my wrist. “We’d be fools to ignore the words of such a wise woman.”
My face flames, but I can’t focus on the embarrassment when he’s touching me.
The elevator doors open on the fourth floor, and Lucian pulls me out.
“I’ll make you a fresh loaf for when you’re done, dear. Nothing beats a slice of buttery bread after a romp in the sheets,” Beatrice calls to us as the doors close.
“Oh God,” I mumble while Lucian chuckles in front of me. She did not just say that!
“Is she your neighbor?” he asks as he unlocks the door to his place.
I nod. “She’s always baking, especially bread. After what she just said, I don’t even want to think about why she bakes it so often. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gets more action than I do.”
“We’ll have to change that,” Lucian says, holding the door open for me.
I sure as hell hope we do.
His place is almost identical to mine in terms of layout, with only one bedroom instead of two, but where my furniture consists of modern pieces picked out by my mother, his gives off a cozy, lived-in vibe that I absolutely love. He offers me something to drink, but I tell him water is fine.
Damn. Why is this so weird?
When he hands the cup to me, our fingers touch, and an electric current passes between us. “What did you want—”
“I think we should—” Lucian says at the same time.