Page 22 of Devilry

The attraction is there. I can feel it, and it’s nothing like the innocent and harmless flirting from Aiden.

It’s dangerous.

It’s addictive.

It’s wrong.

He hands me back my folder, as I mull over the decision. When I take it off him, he purposefully grazes his fingertips over mine in the exchange, and his touch zips through me like an electric shock. Pulling my hand back, I catch the sliver of desire that he can never seem to hide when he’s around me.

Certain that this is the best and worst decision of my life, I answer with the only real option he’s given me.

“Yes.”

5

Cole

Like a warm whisper that kisses every inch of my skin, his answer is needy and wanting; sending my mind into a spiral of scenarios where I could feel him under me saying the same word.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

My cell chooses this moment to ring, and it gives Elijah the chance to—literally— run away from me. There’s no goodbye, no I’ll see you soon, just the back of a young man who’s probably trying to figure out what the hell he just signed up for.

When the head of the History department came to me with the idea, Elijah was the first person who came to mind. Take away whatever physical attraction I have to him, there’s no denying he’s a dedicated and deserving student.

I stopped myself from seeking him out after class to see if he was interested;, told myself I needed to remain professional. Every student needed to be given a fair and honest opportunity to apply for the positions, and my biased dick didn’t get a say.

Until I saw him again.

It wasn’t an accident that he bumped into me, but rather stupidity on my part for standing so close to him. I had planned to tap him on the shoulder, and possibly enjoy the look on his face when he turned around and saw it was me. What I didn’t expect was the way the air thickened around us once his eyes found mine and recognition set in.

The smallest part of me wants to believe the attraction I feel for him, and that he seems to have for me, isn’t real. I want to be wrong about how flustered he becomes when he looks at me. I want to be wrong about the electric current that zips through me whenever I think of him. I want to convince myself that his interest in me is because of what I teach and not because of how I make him feel.

But I’m not wrong, and trying to persuade myself is hopeless. It’s there, plain as day, written on both our faces.

“Hello. Hello? Is anyone there?”

Shit.

“Yes. Hello. Sorry, it’s a bad connection,” I lie. “Who’s this?”

“Hello. It’s Liam from Century 21. I’ve got some details on some of the properties you inquired about.”

Still frazzled by Elijah’s rushed exit, it takes me a while to respond. “Yes. Okay, what do you have?”

“There is an open house for two of them tomorrow night, if you’re interested.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I do my best to concentrate. This call is important. “They’re only a few minutes away from one another, so you could come and check them out and discuss prices.”

“Yeah,” I answer, finally focusing on the conversation. “That sounds great. What time?”

“Both houses are open from seven thirty to nine.”

“That works fine with my schedule,” I inform him. “If you can email me the details and directions after we get off the phone, that’d be great.”

“Not a problem. I’ll do that right away.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you then.”

---