Page 18 of Learn Your Limits
A student bringing their professor lunch is nothing for others to gawk at. I can ensure the door will remain open and our conversation remains on a professional level. “Syllabus week is a drag for professors as well, I assure you,” I comment off-handedly, sorting through the food he’s brought me and noticing he remembered my order perfectly.
Today has been a special kind of hell with all the extra coursework that has fallen upon me in covering for a peer. These first few weeks will be tough if today is any indicator, so I will not overthink my current situation. Reid owes me a meal, after all.
As I watch him lift the fries to his plush pink lips, I instantly berate myself for thinking this could be an innocent lunch shared between student and professor. There is nothing innocent in my thoughts of tangling my hand in Reid’s hair, pulling him toward me, and licking the excess salt off his lips.
Fuck.
Get back on track, Milo.
You’re the one in control here.
“And you certainly shouldn’t be missing any classes because of me. I’m going to ask that you do not make it a habit of waiting around my lecture room or popping into my office unless you truly need something.” My voice is stern, but the way I hum when I take a bite of my burger might take the authority out of my statement.
“I don’t plan on missing any classes, Professor Cervantes,” he says, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs wide. “But what if what I need is you?”
My eyes dart to the open doorway. My office is tucked away in part of the Psychology building with little traffic, but if someone had been walking by, there’s a chance they would have heard our conversation. Thankfully, it’s fairly empty this time of day.
Outright ignoring his lustful display, I meet his eyes once again and absolutely do not look down. “You won’t need me. Talking strictly as your professor, if you need extra help, there are a handful of teacher assistants and tutors who may help you.”
With a casual shrug, I dismiss his question as quickly as he asked it, choosing to continue eating my lunch. Having him flirt with me over text is nothing compared to how firmly he has me within his grasp now.
For a few seconds, all he does is stare at me. But soon, Reid’s amber eyes twinkle, an accompanying smirk playing on his lips. I make the mistake of staring directly at them, and I catch the sinful way his teeth drag over his bottom lip before he speaks in his low, raspy tone.
“I’m not sure they’d be able to help with the kind of tutoring I need, Professor.” I watch as he stretches back in his chair, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. His black t-shirt rides up with the movement, revealing a toned strip of skin. His amber eyes remain locked on me as he slowly drags his other hand up his thigh.
It’s all too clear what he really needs, but I won’t give in. Just as I refuse to address the tenting of my pants underneath my desk. It’s too easy to imagine flirting with him and providing the tutelage he needs. Even through the texts and phone calls we’ve had, our chemistry has been palpable, and the small taste of him that I’ve had is never going to be enough.
He is a craving. A forbidden fruit. And he needs to leave before I succumb to him.
“I’d like to thank you for the lunch and see you out of my office now.” Standing up, I begin to gather my trash and gesture toward the doorway with a nod of my head. “You must have a class coming up, and I need to prepare for my last lecture of the day.”
“Why does it feel like I’m getting kicked out after the first date?” Reid laughs, but it fails to hide the bit of hurt in his voice.
When he realizes I’m serious in my request, he reluctantly gathers his belongings and meets me at the doorway.
“Technically, this is our second date, isn’t it?” he whispers, thankfully mindful of our proximity to the hallway, though it doesn’t stop him from invading my space again. “Can’t wait to see what happens after our third date, Professor.” On his exit, Reid brushes his fingers against mine in a way that could be considered innocent, but I know better. He’s goading me.
I’m constantly at war with pushing him away or apologizing for my actions, and I can’t take any more of it right now. Breathing room is much needed after our interactions today.
“Mr. Callahan,” I sigh in resignation, calling out to him when he’s just a step out of my office. I know these little permissions and allowances I am giving him will lead to heartbreak, but it doesn’t stop me. “I wouldn’t be opposed to another lunch like this.”
I am done for.
Chapter seventeen
Reid
Today didn't exactly go the way I thought it would, but I'm still writing it off as a success. I mean, I would have preferred if our lunch date lasted a little longer, but I also sprung it on him without warning, and I did actually have a class to get to when he showed me out of his office. I was tempted to find him when my classes were over, but figured it was better not to push my luck. He asked me not to linger around his lecture hall or visit his office unless necessary, and while I feel like seeing himisnecessary, I'm not so sure he feels the same way.
Now Wes and Matt are playing some war-type video game on the Xbox in the living room, the sounds of shooting guns and explosions bouncing off the walls of the apartment. We polished off a couple of pizzas, and then I retreated to my room, where I've been sitting at my desk for the last hour.
Crumpled balls of paper litter the ground and my workspace, a clear indicator that my mind is elsewhere. Every time I put pencil to paper, the lines are too heavy or too thin, the shading is all wrong, and the angles are a disaster. I release a growl offrustration and quickly stand, running my hands through my hair as I begin to pace my bedroom.
No matter what I do, I can't get him out of my head. I don’t understand how he can be so warm over text and yet feel so cold when he’s standing right in front of me. I’m pretty sure his icy exterior was simply a wall he put up because of the new dynamic of our relationship. Not that we reallyhavea relationship at this point. Butfuckdo I want one.
At least I think I do. I’m still torn and confused. My heart feels as though there’s some kind of invisible tether pulling me toward him, while my head is screaming at me to slow down and take a step back. Except the voice in my head doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to a man who has been drilling ideas,hisideas, into my head since I was old enough to comprehend the world around me.
I don't know how to explore this thing with Milo without diving in headfirst, but I'm worried once I do, the water will be far deeper than I could have ever imagined.
