Page 40 of Kept

“I probably just had a bad reaction to something in the school’s food,” I mumbled, my appetite lost.

“Oh, Jane, don’t worry! I’m not gonna pry, you know me.” Rachelle mimed zipping her lips, even though prying was her bread and butter. I don’t think she could’ve stopped if she wanted to. “But I have to say, you make for some very juicy drama. I can’t help but wonder who it is. Don’t tell me, though! It would ruin the mystery. I like to think he’s tall, dark, and handsome.”

No matter how close I’d come to being found out, I just couldn’t be upset with Rachelle. She clearly loved the idea more than the actuality, and if she wanted to think I was carrying on some secret relationship- no matter how true it might be- as long as remained in the realm of speculation for her, it was fine.

I would have to tell the three of them to start being more careful. We’d been so careless already it was amazing we hadn’t been caught at it yet.

I still wasn’t convinced they didn’t want to be caught.

Rachelle’s mind had pinged on to the other things by the time Sean got back, and we opened the wine she’d brought.

Three interminable hours later, Baby Blue bounced out to the car Sean was driving. I waved until they were out of sight and released a small sigh of relief.

Mom didn’t mention anything until we were cleaning up. She paused with her hands still submerged in soapy water. “So…doyou have a secret boyfriend, Jane?”

This time I was prepared. “Nope. I’ve been loaded down with so much stuff, I wouldn’t have time for anything else.”

I told myself it wasn’t really lying. I didn’t have a ‘secret boyfriend’, after all… not just one, and there was no way they fit that description, anyways.

“Well, you know I wouldn’t judge you, honeybun.” Mom kissed my cheek and started drying the dishes I stacked on the drainer. “You can always talk to me.”

I smiled, but there were some things I would never be able to talk to her about. She might not feel judgmental, but she’d certainly feel even guiltier if she knew why she had in-home care now, and that guilt wasn’t her burden to bear.

“I know, Mom. Love you.”

* * *

My burgundy panties were gone.

I searched the back of my drawers, upended the latest basket of clean, unfolded laundry on my bed, and checked under every piece of furniture in my room.

Vincent would be back today, and I’d locked my internal mouse in her cage. I had no room for her spineless worry today, not after an entire week of waiting.

But the sole pair of underwear I had in the color he liked was gone. The bra was hanging off a hook on the back of my door, and I was positive the panties had made it into the wash.

Midnight blue it was, then. I made a mental note to check the dark abyss between the washer and dryer as I buttoned a pair of black skinny jeans and pulled a wine-colored top on. I was probably making too much of it anyways.

He didn’t need to text me to come to his office. Monday’s morning classes passed like syrup again, but when I hit that free period and raised my fist to knock on his office door, my knuckles had barely met wood before he called, “Come in.”

As soon as the last morning class had let out, the nervous jitters had set in. What if I was crossing a forbidden boundary without knowing it? Maybe they liked thinking I was a reluctant participant in their game.

Another faculty member passed me in the hallway as I pushed open the door. “I just had a question about the scholarship contract, and Professor Spears is busy,” I said evenly, fooling even myself for a second.

The teacher in the hall- Professor Harrison- glanced at me and kept walking. My racing heart steadied a little, and I slipped inside the office and shut the door behind me.

Vincent raised an eyebrow when I locked it without being told.

My hands had a slight tremor, but I crossed the room in several strides, spun Vincent’s chair so he was no longer hidden behind the wall of his desk, and bent down to kiss him.

I nibbled his lower lip, grazed my lips over the edge of his beard, and whispered, “Thank you,” in his ear.

His chair didn’t have arms, and I hesitated for the briefest second before straddling him, telling my inner mouse to shut up before she could put doubt in me.

I’d never been the aggressor in relationships. Maybe the blandness of my previous love life was at least half my fault, but none of the Demons made me want to be boring and wait for the first touch. I settled myself on his lap, never breaking the kiss.

Vincent’s hands rose to my waist, but I grabbed them and planted them firmly on my hips. This was my moment to taste him, not his chance to turn the tables and control the situation.

He made a noise low in his throat, squeezing my hips compliantly. I threaded my fingers through his hair and kissed him harder, moaning when his tongue slipped between my lips.

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