The air has somehow gotten colder, and it’s snowing lightly as we walk the two blocks to the bar. The fat flakes stick to everything, and I feel giddy at the prospect of a white New Year’s Day in Prague.
As we enter the old bar, Blake gets us a table as Felicity and I order him a beer. We each get a coffee, still nauseous and not up to the task of drinking anything remotely resembling alcohol. I can tell he’s trying not to laugh when we sit down across from him in the booth, clutching our hot coffees like two sad, hungover puppies.
The night passes quickly, and we talk about the museum Blake visited today, as well as college, graduation, and our majors. I end up telling him my plans of going to NYU for history, and his face softens. I have to look away. When Felicity gets up to use the restroom, Blake stops playing with his beer bottle and clears his throat.
“NYU, huh? That’s exciting.”
I nod. “Yeah. I’d love to work in restoration, or maybe archaeology. I like the idea of doing something hands on. There’s a good Medieval Studies program at Columbia, so I’d love to go there for grad school. If I can get a scholarship.”
He almost gives me a full smile at that. “I went to Columbia. But that was over twenty years ago.”
Right.
I smile, and when I look over his shoulder, I spot Felicity talking to a guy that looks vaguely familiar. I realize with a start that it’s Hans, the German guy from the club last night. I don’t see his friend. Blake follows my gaze and looks behind him. The lines on his forehead deepen, and I see the way his lips thin. When he looks back at me, there’s a hint of annoyance on his face.
“Did you have fun last night?” he asks, finishing the rest of the beer. He must notice the confusion on my face, because he continues. “It seemed like you were having fun when I showed up.”
I knew it.
“I was.”
“Was?” he asks, the corner of his lips tilting upward.
I laugh and shake my head. “What am I supposed to say to that? Yes, I was having fun dancing with his friend,” I start, nodding to Hans. “And yes, you abruptly showing up to drag us home killed the vibe we had going,” I add, and the smile he’s giving me makes me want to flirt with him some more. “But truth be told, I think I had way more fun with—”
“Stop, Wren.” His words cause the smile to drop from my face. He sighs and puts his face in his hand. “If you admit that, I won’t be able to—”
“Ten, nine, eight, seven…”
Everyone is shouting numbers, and I realize with a sickening feeling that it’s the countdown to midnight. And arguing with Blake—as he denies whatever’s between us—is not where I want to be when I ring in the new year.
“Four, three, two…”
I glance over at Felicity. She’s dancing with Hans, her arms around his neck, and I see her tilt her chin up for a kiss.
Traitor.
“One!”
The bar erupts with shouting, and someone blows a horn. I flick my eyes to Blake, and he’s watching me with a firm expression, his eyes lowering to my lips as the patrons cheer and shout, some people kissing several people in a row. We could… and we could play it off…
Blake’s hand on the table clenches and then unclenches, and he licks his lips. I look away, massaging my throat so that I don’t think about what it would feel like to have his lips on my skin.
“Wren.”
My name on his lips and everything that’s happened in the last day come crashing down on me. I feel myself bolt upward before I can answer him; before I can process the things I’m beginning to wish for. I stalk past Felicity, who is still locking lips with Hans. Pushing against the bathroom door at the back of the bar, I let out a frustrated growl when I realize it’s locked. I turn around, and as I do, a strong, hard body presses me against the wall. Soft lips crash against mine intensely before I can protest.
Blake.
I moan as his tongue parts my lips, and then my whole body begins to tingle as his leg knocks my knees apart like a pro, all the while his hands pin mine above my head. He smells fresh, and his lips feel like warm velvet. He presses into me again, and this time, I know why he spread my legs.
Because he can move himself against me, his firmness fitting perfectly between my legs.
Nothing like Taylor—not a boy, but a man.
A man who knows what he’s doing.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he snarls, and I swear, if I feel him move against me again, I’m going to pull him into the bathroom with me.
All I can do is moan in response. We’re both panting as he kisses me, and I pull my hands down so that I can run them through his hair—his dark, thick hair. He hums into my mouth as my fingertips graze his scalp, and I can’t get enough of him—of his mouth on mine, of the feel of his hard body, of the forbidden aspect making everything sweeter, because neither of us knows when we’ll get to do this again.
I pull away slightly, looking at his crazed expression. “Blake,” I plead.
He must understand, because one hand cups my ass as he grinds against me, and oh fuck, I can feel his thick cock rubbing me through my jeans.
“Fuck me,” I whisper. “I want you inside of me.”
I don’t even care that I’m begging. I just want him—however I can get him. I know if I don’t, I’ll never be able to replicate this feeling with anyone else.
He pulls away suddenly, taking a few steps backward. “Wren,” he says softly, and I know in an instant what he’s about to say. “This is wrong. You’re Felicity’s friend, you’re my—”
“Student?” I accuse, my voice a little too shrill. I cross my arms as tears sting my eyes. “And? I’m an adult.”
A smile tugs at his lips, and I hate him for it. “Barely. And I could lose my job.” He looks down. “And my daughter.”
Fuck.
I take a deep breath. He’s right. I know he’s right. I’m just overcome with lust—this isn’t me. Is it? Am I the girl who kisses her history teacher? Am I the girl who sleeps with her best friend’s dad?
Felicity.
I could lose Felicity.
The rational part of my brain is screaming to behave, yet… every other part of me wants him. Every other part of me needs to feel him again.
“I want to go back to the apartment,” I say quickly, feeling the bile rise in my throat. “Can I have the keys?”
Blake watches me for a second before nodding, pulling them out of his pocket. “Happy New Year, Wren.”
I take them from him without responding.
Chapter 7
Wren
* * *
Felicity and Blake come home about an hour later, but I’m tucked into bed, pretending to sleep. My heart is still racing when Felicity crawls in beside me a few minutes later, and I squeeze my eyes shut when I think about losing her—about what Blake and I did tonight. For almost four years, she’s been by my side—breakups, makeups, school, our first jobs, our first cars, rolling joints, drinking at parties together, and now, finally, spending our last Christmas together in Europe.
And I ruined it all by kissing her dad.
I toss and turn most of the night, and by the time the sun begins to peek through the window shade, I’m out of bed and making coffee in the kitchen. Blake is already up, and he’s sitting at the dining room table reading a book. I have to do a double take.