Page 52 of Too Hostile

“You’re the professor who hates him,” Blair says, and wow. Okay, I see the mama bear there, and I’m a little—okay, very—intimidated by the petite blonde.

“Blair.” Her husband’s tone is calm but firm.

She places a hand on her hip and looks directly at me. “I’m hoping you don’t still hate him.”

“No. I never did,” I say honestly. “I just... we just...” I’m a stuttering fool right now, and that never happens to me. But damn. I think she might claw my eyes out at any minute. “I didn’t know...”

“Mom, stop. He had his reasons.” Fletcher moves to stand directly beside me. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this. It’s just he’s a professor, and I’m, well, I’m not a student right now.” He just had to say that.

I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop the smile on my face. “He’s a student. I could lose my job. I should lose my job,” I say, the statement paining me, but it’s the truth. I’m sleeping with a student.

“Why’s that?” she asks, and she sounds truly confused with her head cocked to the side.

“Because he’s a student, and I’m a professor. I crossed a line.”

She studies me closely and then looks over at Fletcher. “Did you ever feel like you had to sleep with him, Fletcher? Did you feel like you couldn’t say no?”

“Hell no,” Fletcher says immediately. “I wanted every single second with him from the beginning. If anything, I seduced the hell out of him.”

His father groans. “Not something a dad needs to know.”

His mother, however, looks oddly proud. Her pretty eyes meet mine. “My son doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do. And lord knows he didn’t sleep with you for grades. He has no trouble in school. If he slept with you, it was because he wanted to.”

“I did,” Fletcher says, and my neck heats.

“It’s not really that simple,” I say because it’s just not. It’s black and white. If anyone finds out about this, I’ll be fired. The rules are there for a reason.

“It is,” she says, and yeah, she did say it quite simply. “Are you two in love?”

“Mom . . .” It’s Fletcher’s turn to groan.

“What?” She looks at her son, and I almost laugh because she just does not back down.

But then Fletcher speaks, and that darkness starts to bubble up again. “It’s just a summer thing.”

My heart actually aches in my chest at his words. They’re my words. Words I’ve made sure to say over and over again, but man, do they hurt. Blair frowns deeply at that, and I want to run, but I stay there as she looks at me with extreme disapproval. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Fletcher answers, even though I think she was asking me. “I’m eighteen, and I know what I’m doing.”

She turns to look at him, but it’s him now who doesn’t back down. She’s quiet for so long, I start to fidget, but then finally she sighs softly. “Okay, sweetie. You’re right.” She turns to her husband. “We should go get a hotel room.”

“Oh no. You don’t have to do that,” I say, feeling like a total heel, taking them away from their trip.

She waves me off. “The things I have planned, I can’t do with my son under the same roof.”

“Mom, God.” Fletcher covers his ears. “My ears are bleeding.”

She cackles at that as her husband goes to their room, coming back with a new shirt on and sandals for Blair. He slings a bag over his large shoulder and pats Fletcher on the shoulder. “You need anything, and I mean anything at all, you call.”

Fletcher nods, not goofing around at all as he agrees, “I will.”

Rhys gives me a quick nod before he heads out of the house, and Blair pulls Fletcher into her arms. “I love you, kiddo. I’ll be popping in at your place soon.”

“Maybe knock first,” he says, and his mom laughs, her eyes trailing to me before they settle back on Fletcher.

“Okay. Fine.” She smiles and kisses his cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” he says easily.

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