Page 120 of Forbidden Lessons

“What? You don’t think my feet are pretty enough?”

“Are they? Last time I saw them, they were covered in mud.”

My mouth falls open. I stab a finger at him. “You promised.”

He flashes me a smile, lifting one hand in surrender. “My apologies.” Then he sets down his glass and spreads his hands wide. “Shall I compare thee feet to a summer’s day? Thou feet art more lovely, and more separate.”

“Wow,” I whisper, setting my glass down a little harder than I’d wanted to. “Okay, I’m totally hiring you to run my OnlyFeet account.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he takes a long sip of wine.

Fuck me. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes makes me squeeze my thighs together. I’m trying to stifle the sudden tingle between them, but it only makes it worse.

And he’s still looking at me, his gaze sly like he’s thinking all sorts of things he shouldn’t be.

“So I think you’ve dragged this out long enough,” I say, clearing my throat halfway through because, for some reason, it’s all clogged up with embarrassment. “Go on. Tell me why I’m here.”

The look in his warm brown eyes changes, then.

This. This is the reason I let him lure me here. It’s the way he looks at me, like he knows I can handle whatever he’s about to say. He can call me a kid as much as he wants, even though he doesn’t think of me like that.

“You have to go back to class, Haven.”

I drop my head, my hand rising absently to stroke the side of my neck. When I realize what I’m doing, I pluck it away and sit on it. “I told you I’d?—“

“Not soon.Tomorrow.”

There’s no way I’m looking up at him.

And here I was just thinking about how he never treats me like a kid. But his tone of voice, those short brook-no-nonsense sentences?

This is what I imagine being disciplined feels like.

“That’s not your choice to make,” I murmur.

“When someone under my tutelage is about to fuck up their life, it becomes my decision.”

“Would you do it?” I snap, my chin still down, but my eyes flashing up to glare at him through my lashes. “Would you go back there all bruised and battered? What do you think they’ll say about me? It’s already out that I live in my fucking car. You have no idea what it’s like being on the receiving end ofthatkind of attention.”

He blinks, like my barrage of angry words surprises him. Then he leans back his head and laughs.

I’m close to shouting now. “How is this funny?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, studying me for a moment before looking away. “I knowexactlywhat you’re going through, Haven.” He pushes away his bowl, considers his wineglass for a moment, and then tosses back what’s left in one gulp.

“But we’re not here to talk about me.” He glances at my wine glass. “Are you done?”

There’s still an inch of wine in the bottom. I drain it like he had, and he takes it without a word and sets it down on the counter beside the fridge.

I know exactly what you’re going through

Was Bastian bullied too? I guess if he was half as smart in elementary school as he is now, he’d probably have drawn the wrong attention more than once.

Shit. Never judge someone until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes, I guess. Even if you’re muddy and barefoot and he’s wearing…

“Why are you looking at my feet?” Bastian asks as he takes a bottle of amber liquid from the top shelf of one of his kitchen cabinets.

Does he have eyes in the back of his head or something?

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