Page 38 of Arrogant Professor

“Vincent,” Wilcox said. “Just to be clear, this means I’m rescinding my offer of support for the Dean position—”

“I said get out,” I barked.

He hurried out, closing the door behind him. I bowed my head, scrubbing a hand over my mouth.

How did everything go to shit so fast?

Chapter 13

Elle

Iheard every word. After Dean Wilcox had left, Vincent’s house was so painfully quiet that I didn’t dare breathe. My heart thundered against my ribs. This is exactly what I’d been afraid of. He lost his job because of me.

It was tempting to hide in the sanctuary of his bedroom, like a safe little bubble where I didn’t have to face the ugly truth that everything was ruined. But I couldn’t leave Vincent to suffer alone.

Carefully, I made my way into the living room. Vincent was seated on the couch, staring at the floor with a blank look. I inched closer, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. He might want some distance from me right now, and I could understand that.

“Vincent?” I whispered.

He glanced up and his eyes gradually focused on me. There was a haunted look on his face and it made me sick to my stomach.

“I can’t fix this, baby,” he rasped. “I’m sorry.”

I was the one who should be apologizing. I’m the fuck up. Always have been. Always will be. And this time, I dragged the man I loved down with me.

Love.

That word seemed…huge. Monumental. But it felt warm and right, too. And it was bittersweet that I only came to the realization now amid the rubble of our lives.

Tears burned my eyes but I swallowed hard, fighting them back. Vincent had lost so much more than I did. I needed to be strong for him.

I crossed the living room and came to stand in front of Vincent. Without hesitation, he took me by the hips, pulling me between his knees. He wrapped his arms around me, resting his forehead against my stomach.

“Your sister saw us in the courtyard earlier today,” he said, muffled in the fabric of my hoodie. “She had pictures.”

Understanding dawned on me as Dean Wilcox’s words finally made sense.

Helene Roche would like you to know that she will make sure you never work in another school again.

I was going to kill her.

My gaze shifted up toward the ceiling as if I could find the solution to this whole mess written there. I combed my fingers through Vincent’s hair in a silent apology, wishing I could make everything right somehow. I really wasn’t worth all this trouble.

“Let’s go away together,” Vincent said.

I blinked in surprise and looked down at him. He pulled back, his hands at my hips, gazing up at me as if I was worthy of worship.

“We can leave Port Crowne,” he added. “Hell, we’ll leave Massachusetts altogether. Start over somewhere else with a clean slate.”

I shook my head, bewildered.

“And do what? You won’t be able to teach anymore when word gets out about us.”

He shrugged. His gaze shifted past my shoulder to the bookshelves lining his wall. Hundreds of rare books, collected over the years.

“I’ll open my bookstore,” he said. “You can go back to school, if you want. Finish your degree somewhere that your father doesn’t know about.”

I smoothed a lock of hair away from Vincent’s forehead. The idea was so tempting, so idyllic—making a life together, just the two of us. We wouldn’t have to hide anymore. We wouldn’t have to keep our relationship a secret.

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