“Because I’m your type?” I murmur. “I get that you make a habit of crossing lines. But there are some I can’t live with.”
“Why is that, Olivia?” Sawyer’s staring at me with the kind of intensity that burns a hole in my chest. His frustration is a living thing. “Are you afraid it says something about me or about you?”
Because the idea of him seeing another woman my age, of wanting her, of risking everything to be with her, hurts like hell. I want to believe what we have—had—was different.
But he never promised me that. It was only ever supposed to be hot, wild, a fantasy come to life. Maybe part of growing up is realizing when you’re expecting too much.
“You’re right,” I admit.
“A first, where you’re concerned.” He looks around at the hall. “You have to teach another class?”
“I’m done.” A notification beeps on my phone. “But I have to change and run an errand, then head home. It’s Hoes Over Brews tonight.”
His brows lift. “Excuse me?”
“Girls’ night,” I explain. “We talk about everything, including how dumb guys are.”
“Well, I’m glad to provide you sufficient material for this evening.”
The laugh bubbles up before I can stop it, and his eyes crinkle at the corners.
His apology can’t undo the hurt, but it helps.
He returned my necklace, but didn’t use that against me. He wasn’t even going to take credit for it, which is so at odds with the man I met at the beginning of the semester—the one who’d use anything to get what he wants.
I fist the pendant in my hand. “Tell me how you got it back.”
“Never.”
“I could make you.”
“There’s nothing you could do to pry that information from me.” I open my mouth. “At least not public,” he amends with a grin.
Now that we’re having an honest conversation for the first time in weeks, I don’t want it to end. “I told the girls I’d pick up some things at CVS. You could come with me?”
There’s nothing weird about running into my professor at the pharmacy, is there?
9
Olivia
“My roommate wants lube,” I inform Sawyer as I grab a basket and head down the aisle. The section with condoms and other accessories appears, and I stop in front of it.
He turns the other way, inspecting the contents of the other side of the aisle. The wraps and bandages have me swallowing a laugh.
“You need sports medicine tape, Professor Redmond? I guess bone density decreases with age—”
“I’ll tie you up with this, including covering your smart mouth.”
Heat shoots straight down my spine.
It’s not awkward to be here with him. Not at all.
Not that we used lube the one time we were together.
Really didn’t need that.
But it could be fun…
Focus.
I’m scanning the brands when his voice interrupts me.
“Tell me about your toys.”
Being back-to-back might feel safer, but it’s an illusion. I can feel his heat from here, sense the mere inches between us even through my clothes.
“I have a vibe”—which he knows, because he made me use it—“but hardly a collection.”
“Have you ever used it with another person?”
My fingers slip on the package I pick up. “No. But I like the idea of a bullet, like one of those clit vibes.” My voice seems to have lowered an octave.
Sawyer turns to my side of the aisle and picks out a box of condoms. He drops it in my basket and I gawk at him.
“Presumptuous much?”
His eyes darken as he moves to stand in front of me, his body pressed against mine. He reaches into his wallet and pulls out a twenty, setting it on top of the box. “If you’re using toys with someone, it better be me.”
My heart hammers against my ribs as I glance up to see the mirror reflecting us from above.
He’s tall, intimidating with his dark hair wild around his face. A decade older.
I’m smaller, but I look bold, too.
We look good together. Right and wrong in fascinating ways.
As we step away from each other, he says, “What else do you need?”
“Chips. Definitely chips.”
He leads the way to the aisle.
“Pringles?”
“Hell no.” I shudder. “We broke a bunch of cans working on the robot. If I never see another Pringles can again, it’ll be too soon.”
He chuckles while I pick out some Lays and add them to my basket.
“We need to talk about the other day in the supply room,” I start.
“You were dripping on my fingers.” I nearly drop the basket at the heat in his voice. “But the next time we play like that—”
“We weren’t doing anything. You were being a massive prick.”
“The next time we play like that,” he repeats, “you’ll be on board.”
More chips are needed.
“You a chips or pretzels guy?” I ask as I toss another bag in the basket so I don’t combust from looking at him. Hell, one more.
“Chips. Pretzels don’t have enough flavor per square inch.”
“You would say that. No matter that pretzels are uniquely shaped and interesting.”
“How are they interesting? They’re all the same.”
I laugh as I reach for Band-Aids.
“For?” he asks.
“I pulled out my pointe shoes the other day. Haven’t had a chance to use the studio after classes are over, but soon, I’ll find time.”
“I’d like to see you dance. Watching you tonight turned me on like crazy.”
A shiver runs through me at the thought of him across the room, unable to move or touch, aroused by the simple sight of me.
The idea of seducing him on purpose is insanely sexy. I’ve never seduced a man before. Sure, I’ve gotten dressed with a mind to how I’ll look, but that’s different than putting all of myself into making him think about, long for, beg for me.
He makes me feel things I’ve never felt, makes me brave and bold, reckless and free. The pleasure he brings me is more than I ever expected to experience—and we’ve only been together once.
I can barely imagine what else he could show me the next time—
“Professor Redmond.”
It’s a student, and I duck away to the cash register while he talks.
I sneak a look back over my shoulder as I pay.
But the way he hurt me comes back.
Think you can move on from him when he finishes this class and leaves?
I’ve dated Adam. Stuck with him long after I wanted to and had to get out.
This is different.
I’m different.
He walks me back to the parking lot outside the dance studio. Every step, I’m aware of him. I feel alive.
When we stop beside my car, he clears his throat. “I need to ask you something. It’s awkward.”
I laugh. “You talked about spanking me and bought me condoms. What could be more awkward?”
“The fish. The black one seems to be shedding. Something’s wrong.” A frown. “I’ve been feeding it, all of them, and I did some research…”