“For one minute, I’ll be your rubber band, and then I want you to focus on the worksheet and on practice. Alright? I’m not doing this because I feel sorry for you. I’m doing it for my ownanxiety. I can’t sit next to you or exist next to you when I feel the darkness. You went to a dark place. I felt it.”
She always did see through my emotions, and I sometimes hated her for it. “I pulled back.”
“You’re still there,” she said gently.
“You know what? This is bullshit. Whatever voodoo you think you’re going to do to calm me down or make me stop thinking about my fucked-up life isn’t going to fucking?—”
She jerked me by the shirt. I stumbled against her so hard that we slammed backward against the wall, blanketed in utter darkness and the musty smell of old books.
“Don’t think,” she whispered. The kiss was slow and purposeful. It was both heat and release at the same time. My lips parted briefly before I clutched her by the face and tasted her. My only focus was her. Not my dad. Not football. Not the darkness.
It was her.
Her kiss gave me freedom.
And focus.
Her hands tangled in my hair while I lifted her into my arms and pressed her against the wall. Our mouths collided only to pull back and work together. The kiss was a reminder and a release, a cosmic demonstration of the way their bodies would always remember one another. Damning and forgiving all at once. The warmth of her breath mingled with mine, the way the silence was suddenly full of our mouths moving across one another’s.
Abruptly, she pulled back, our foreheads touching briefly before I gently set her back on her feet. “Better?”
Better and worse. How could I possibly answer that?
She pressed a hand to my chest, and my heart raced beneath the heat of her palm. “Focus. Get through today. And then getthrough tomorrow. Screw your dad, Vaughan. Also, this never happened. You’re still my enemy, and we won’t ever be friends.”
I cracked a smile. “You’re the devil of sexual torment. You understand that, right?”
She smirked and walked past me. “Hey, at least you aren’t thinking bad things anymore.”
“Oh, Cinderella, I’m thinking all of the bad things right now, and none of them involve you wearing any clothes.”
She picked up her bag and looked over her shoulder with a coy smile. “See? I win again. I have to admit it feels good. Oh, and I’d like…” She pointed at my dick. “Take care of that. It’s going to be distracting to the students. Then again, if they’re studying anatomy, it might be helpful.”
I grabbed a book and covered my dick, only to see her burst out laughing. “That’s a classic.”
“What?”
“Moby Dick. Must be in the wrong place.” She shrugged and walked off, calling behind her, “See you later. Our session's done.”
No. It was just beginning.
CHAPTER 19
TRU
Then
I walked downto that lake to be alone.
With my thoughts.
My memories.
My trauma.
As much as I hated to admit it, I liked Vaughan. The sight of him, the scent of him, the sound of his voice, the feel of his warmth, his sadness, his happiness…
His love?