Page 13 of Where We Met

“I think so.”

“How old are you?” I ask because I have to know. Nothing about this interaction feels like talking to a young college student.

“Twenty-two.” She looks at me, and her eyes scan my body. It’s unnerving because I can see those green eyes appreciating what she sees. If only she knew what I would do to her if I could. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-four.”

When our eyes meet, the electricity between us could power a city on its own.

“Twelve years,” she whispers before biting her lip.

I suppress the groan that comes up as I focus on her mouth, wondering what it would feel like on mine. What it would feel like wrapped around my dick. Shaking my head, I peel my eyes away and face forward again.

“Twelve years is a lot,” I say in an effort to remind myself how wrong these feelings are.

She looks at me inquisitively. “It’s notthatmuch.”

I rest my head on the back of my seat and turn my head toward her. “It’s a lot. I need it to be a lot. I need as many reasons as possible to remind myself why this attraction to you is wrong.”

I think she senses how serious I am, just how much I need this for my wavering self-control.

“Fine. It’s a lot. It’s disgusting. You’re like a grandpa to me. Take me back to my car, old man. I need to go hang out with people my own age who don’t bore me to death.”

She mimics my position in the car as her head falls back, and we smile at each other. I know what she’s trying to do, but dammit, it’s not working like it should. It just makes me adore her more.

“Nice try, but you’re not a great actress.”

“I’m trying,” she breathes.

I nod my head, understanding that I need to be the adult here and end this before we go too far. I put my car into reverse and make myself focus on the road ahead instead of the beautiful woman next to me.

Chapter Five

Savannah

I'msittingonTricia'sbed, only halfway listening as she rambles on about this new guy she’s been talking to. I’m struggling to absorb anything that she’s saying because I can’t stop replaying my afternoon with Luke on Saturday.

On one hand, it was nice to be open about how attracted I am to him and to know my feelings are reciprocated. On the other hand, we both know we can’t act on it, and I have no clue where that leaves us.

Clearly not updated on the forbidden nature of it all, my stomach is all messed up with excitement knowing class starts in less than an hour.

Ugh, if he wears his slacks and button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up again, I’m screwed. How am I expected to focus when his insanely sexy forearms are on display like that?

I can see it now. Me begging the university for a break on my failing grade.

“Please give me a break, I just couldn’t focus.”

“Why couldn’t you focus, Miss Davis?” they’d ask.

“Well, you see, my professor’s forearms were showing. They were so muscular and veiny that I kept fantasizing about what they would look like trailing all over my body or flexing while his hand pumped his dick.”

Yeah, I don’t see that going over well.

"Let's go bitches. Time for class," Shannon says as she pops her head into the room.

The four of us grab our things and start the walk to the building in the freezing weather. I keep my head down to avoid it getting hit by the wind.

It’s colder than usual out today, the lake effect weather making the wind so cold it stings your face as it whips through.

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