Page 98 of Forbidden Lessons

“Don’t be dramatic. It was barely drizzling.”

“You were soaked.”

“I didn’t know you’d be home so late.”

“How rude of me for not predicting the future.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “I thought a face-to-face thing would be the more…mature way to go.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then glances at me from the corner of his eyes. He’s still dressed like he went to class today, but thankfully he’s buttoned up his white shirt again.

“Nothing more mature than rubbing someone’s mistake in their face.”

Indignation blazes over my cheeks. “What?”

“I shouldn’t have called the other night, and then said all those things. Shouldn’t have left it like that.” He shakes his head. “I’ve had other things on my mind. I’m only human.”

I let the silence filter down between us, silently drumming my fingers against the warm coffee cup in my lap.

“I’m sorry too. I’m still trying to get a handle on how this whole professor-student thing works. None of my teachers ever got involved in my studies. It’s kinda overwhelming.”

“Should I back off?” His voice is barely audible, his attention still directed to the fireplace. “Let you destroy what I assume is your one and only opportunity for a better life?”

If it hadn’t been drizzling, I swear I would have heard crickets.

“What makes you think?—?”

“Applying for that grant was your Hail Mary. I know it. You know it.” He takes a slow sip of his coffee, and then shifts to face me on the sofa, one knee sliding up onto the cushion. “You’re not as good a liar as you think you are, Miss Lee.”

My envy for him is violent and sickening.

He looks so comfortable in his own skin. This wealthy, educated, confident, sexy fucking man. He makes me feel like a pathetic piece of shit. I thought he didn’t know how bad off I was, but I guess he’s really good at poker.

And here I thought I was playing solitaire.

“So why don’t you pretend for a moment that we’re both adults here, and tell me what the fuck is more important than your future?”

Kai broke something inside me.

I used to be real good at smothering things with a pillow until they stopped squirming.

My shitty childhood.

My even shittier family.

My lack of everything that makes for a decent life.

But Kai fucking shredded my defenses.

There’s no holding back my resentment. My indignation. The fury Professor Rooke’s condescending smirk sets off inside me.

I slam my coffee cup down on the table. When I turn and duck my head toward him, he leans back like I’m attacking him. I grab the back of the sofa with one hand, the front of my warm, gray hoodie with the other.

“This, Professor,” I hiss, tugging down the fabric.

He’s frowning, coffee cup hovering over his lap where he lifted it so it wouldn’t spill, his eyes glued to mine.

But then his gaze darts down to my throat, and his face slackens. He straightens, our faces inches apart, and slowly sets his coffee cup on the floor beside the sofa.

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