Page 22 of Too Hostile

“Or we could kiss again,” I blurt, and okay, so I didn’t behave very long, but I tried.

“We really can’t.” But I hear the disappointment there. He wants to. He so wants to. “It’s not a good idea, Fletcher.”

I smile. Fletcher. I really like when he uses my first name instead of calling me Mr. Moore. So much less stuffy. “Because I’m a student in the fall, and you’re a professor at the college I’m going to.” I say it, hoping he understands just how dumb that sounds.

“Yes.”

“I’m not enrolled right now. It’s summer. Right now, I’m not a student,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I actually feel.

“Fletcher . . .” There’s that lightness again.

“It’s a summer loophole. We could have three months of absolute bliss. Think about it.”

He climbs off the rock and then holds out a hand for me. I take it, and for a moment I think he’s going to kiss me again, but he just leans into me, his voice in my ear. “I can’t.”

And then he walks back to my Jeep and opens the door, climbing inside.

Can’t.

Not doesn’t want to—but can’t.

I smile to myself as I walk to my Jeep and start it up to drive us back to campus.

I can work with that.

RONAN

Ican’t stop thinking about Fletcher. This is a real problem. It’s been three days since we kissed and he took me out to the lake and we talked.

And he mentioned a summer loophole.

God, how badly did I want to take him up on that. Just let go and go for it for once in my life. Do something without really thinking about it. But I can’t do that. I won’t let myself.

I worked too damn hard to throw it all away for a summer fling.

And that was exactly what he was offering.

Hearing his story was eye-opening and tragic, but it doesn’t really change anything. It can’t. He’s a student. A student I need to stay away from.

But because fate loves to fuck with me, as soon as I get settled at my desk in my office, in walks Fletcher. Man, does he look good. Of course he does. He’s built and strong. His arms are bare because he’s wearing a tank top—bright blue today. It matches his eyes. And his charcoal shorts cling to his perfectly sculpted ass far too well.

“Fletcher, what are you doing here?” My voice has no edge to it whatsoever.

I expect him to flirt, maybe even bring up the summer loophole again. Could I resist it if he did? But then I see Annie walking in right behind him, and my entire demeanor freezes.

Of course he’s here helping the professor he’ll be assisting next semester. Because he’s a damn student, and that’s why he’s on campus.

Fuck. Me.

“Hey there, Professor,” he says with a flirty smirk, but my smile has faded into a stern glare. Doesn’t bother Fletcher in the slightest. “I’m here to help Professor Briggs.”

“It’s summer,” I say in Annie’s direction.

She doesn’t seem bothered at all by my salty tone. She just waves me off. “We’re done now, actually.”

Fletcher parks his ass on the corner of my desk, making himself right at home. “She has a couple of classes this summer, and I told her I’d help with anything she needed. Even though I’m not a student at the moment.” His eyes hold mine, and his intention is clear.

He wants to make it very well known that he’s not a student. But he is. No matter how he spins it.

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