Page 71 of Hate To Love You

Our pants mix together as we come down from our high. We stay together for a few silent moments, Ryker slumping forward so his forehead meets mine.

Then, gently, he lowers my legs and slowly pulls out of me, gazing at me with dark, satisfied eyes.

I smile up at him, my hair tumbling around my flushed face, pieces sticking to my cheeks and forehead.

“I think we can call it even,” I tease, reaching up to tug playfully at his hair. He chuckles softly, shaking his head.

“How do we always find ourselves in this situation?” he asks with a grin.

“In what situation?” I ask, my head cocking to the side.

He looks around the bathroom and chuckles to himself.

“Fucking in public places,” he smirks. “Is it like, our thing?” he asks teasingly.

I shake my head, unable to keep a giant grin from taking over my face.

“We don’t have a thing,” I state. Ryker’s grin widens.

“I think it’s our thing,” he says, leaving a few small kisses along my neck and nipping my ear before setting a soft peck on my lips. “Get dressed. I’m taking you home.”

I hop off the sink and get dressed quickly.

Ryker isn’t wrong. It does seem to be a recurring thing for us now, having sex in public spaces. Something I have never done and never even thought about doing until I met Ryker.

This is not the way I saw tonight going, mostly because I had no idea Ryker would even be here.

Honestly, I was kind of looking for a reprieve so I could think. I can’t believe I let him rattle me so much, completely distracting me during our presentation.

I’ve never been distracted during class. I worked so hard on that project, and I barely remember even saying anything. I rushed out of the room so quickly; I didn’t even get to hear what Professor Whitely had to say about it.

Did we pass? There’s no way we didn’t. We both spent so much time on it, and something tells me Ryker didn’t really have a choice but to pass.

When we started working together, I thought there was absolutely no way I wouldn’t kill him. I didn’t think I’d get through one day, let alone three whole weeks with him. He was mean, he was callous, he was arrogant. Okay, well, that hasn’t really changed. But the rest?

He's different. He’s kinder, gentler, and I’d like to hope it’s because of me.

A small part of me wondered if it was all bullshit. I’m letting this man who just three-ish weeks ago hated me and treated me like shit use me for sex. I guess I’m using him for sex too, but this time, it felt like more than that.

I know we were in a bathroom, but the way he looked at me, the way his eyes met mine with desire and lust, it almost felt like he wanted more. Which is ridiculous right?

Ryker Steele has never had a girlfriend, so why would I think I’d be the first?

I’m nothing special, but Ryker makes me feel like the most beautiful woman on earth, and I haven’t felt that way in a long time. He feels good, warm, safe, and I find myself hoping to God that nothing ruins this. That nothing ruins us before we even get a chance to explore what we can be.

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My leg moves rapidly, up and down and up and down. My pointer finger taps my outer thigh repeatedly. I feel clammy and uneasy as I look around the small office space.

There’s one window facing main campus, a desk and chair that look like they’ve been there since the school opened its doors, two chairs sitting across the desk, and a large bookshelf against the wall.

There are a few pictures on the wall of the beach and the school, but other than that, there is nothing in here other than the nameplate on the desk that reads Aurora Whitely.

I’ve never been called into an office by a teacher. I’ve always done as I was told, followed the rules, and kept to myself. School is a means to an end.

All I need to do is get my degree and then I’ll be a teacher and my life here at Ellington will be nothing but a distant memory.

But sitting in this stuffy office with Professor Whitely sitting in front of me feels like I’m in some sort of trouble.

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