Page 37 of Classroom Confessions

A jangle from the door later in the afternoon gave me an excuse to lift my head from the statistics assignment I’d avoided for a week.

Ethan stood in the doorway in jeans, boots, and a thick leather jacket over a white T-shirt.

My jaw hit the fucking floor, my sharp gasp loud enough to draw his attention around. He froze when he saw me and his jaw hardened.

Lily skipped around the counter. “Oh, Professor. Thanks for coming by.”

What the hell?

“You said it was an emergency.” Ethan slid off a pair of designer sunglasses and tucked them into his jacket pocket. The deep brown leather brought out his tan and the richness in his eyes. His hair was tousled and windblown despite the helmet he set on the nearest table. “What’s going on?”

He came here because Lily claimed an emergency? How did she even contact him?

“Rebecca needs your help.” She shot me an innocent, wide-eyed smile. “She’s been cursing at the computer for an hour. Something about the diabolical nature of sonnets and their inability to have a happily ever after like any decent story should.”

I was going to kill my best friend.

“It’s fine.” I stood and held out a hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t tell her to call you. I had no idea.”

Lily’s gaze ping-ponged between us, her mouth puckered into a frown. “Is something wrong? Your emails said to let you know if we had trouble. I’ve never seen Rebecca struggle with an assignment like this.”

“I can’t believe you called him,” I hissed at Lily when I reached the counter.

The three of us faced off in the otherwise empty shop. Coffee percolated behind Lily, the chugging gurgles soothing and familiar. I’d had too many lattes, and the caffeine caught up with me in a rush. “I was complaining. I like to complain when I’m working on a difficult assignment. Lily never should have called you. I have everything under control.”

Ethan shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the back of the chair where his helmet rested. “I’m always willing to help a struggling student.”

Was it me, or did I hear a double meaning in the words? Like I could pretend to be struggling to spend time with him? No. Ridiculous thinking like that got me into trouble, got all of us into trouble.

“Let’s see this assignment.” He reached for my elbow but stopped before making contact. Heat flared in his eyes when I sucked in a breath and held it. “I’d like to help, Rebecca.”

Why did he have to say my name like that? He couldn’t mean anything by it. He’d agreed yesterday that we should stay away from each other.

“I’ll watch the shop.” Lily waved us off while raising her eyebrows at me in a get-it-together move she’d mastered in sixth grade.

Ethan walked over to the table where my laptop sat on the statistics assignment. He grunted at the screen and sat. “Walk me through this.”

“Through what?” Why did my body choose that moment to self-ignite? My palms sweated. An ache started behind my eyes. “You shouldn’t be here. We agreed.”

“I said you were right. I never said it was what I wanted.” He stretched out a hand, stopping again before making contact. A harsh line appeared between his eyebrows. “I want to touch you, Rebecca. But if I do, if I give in to that single second, it will all be over. So I need you to tell me, explicitly, what staying away from each other looks like.”

“It’s not this.” I made sure my story notes and word document were minimized so he wouldn’t see them if he flipped through the screens. I’d move the laptop, but I needed the barrier between us. He’d admitted he wanted me, that I held the control here. I didn’t want it. I refused the responsibility of holding his career in my hands.

A group entered behind Ethan, five college-aged kids with loud mouths and enough laughter to drown out my turbulent thoughts. “I can’t be near you, Ethan.” I caressed his name, lingering over the consonants. “If this is going to work, I can’t be near any of you.”

“We feel the same way.” He gripped the edge of the table with one hand until his knuckles whitened and the sharp points threatened to pop through the skin.

I’d never seen so much tension in five fingers, and it made me wonder what else he could do with those hands.

Those thoughts led me to one I’d tried like hell to avoid but that exploded across my vision with the force of a lightning strike. If he asked me about sex, I’d never be able to say no.

18

REBECCA

Ethan didn’t say a word about sex, about a relationship, or about anything. With a nod and a tight-lipped frown, he pushed up from the table. “Cole’s assignment is meant to challenge your thought process. He wants you to look at the individual moments each statistic portrays, then look at the bigger picture.”

“What about yours?” He was going to leave, and I had no right to even think about stopping him.

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