Page 82 of Boiling Point
But the sigh caught in my chest. Cal was still here. The week was still ours. I wasn’t going to let someone else’s scandal steal it from us.
Cal crouched in front of the sofa, bracing his forearms lightly on my knees so I couldn’t look anywhere but at him.
“What was that last bit about?” he asked, voice low and even. “You went stiff.”
I forced a smile, but it cracked. “It’s nothing.”
He brushed his thumb along the outside of my knee—barely there, like a touch meant more to soothe than to persuade. “Gabrielle,” he said quietly. “Talk to me.”
I swallowed, my throat dry. “It just caught me off guard. She was talking about her colleague—a professor who…crossed a line with a student. And got caught.” For a split second, I saw Cal in that story—career in ashes because of me. The fear hit sharp, and I shoved it down hard before it could take root.
His expression didn’t change, but I saw the ripple beneath it—something fierce and protective rising fast.
“She doesn’t know,” I said quickly, like the words could unspool the tension coiling between us. “She has no idea about us. She was venting about work. It just…hit close to home.”
I blinked hard, surprised by the sudden sting behind my eyes. Cal exhaled, curling his fingers a little tighter around my knee before relaxing again. He didn’t try to kiss me. Didn’tcrowd me. Just stayed there, steady and warm and waiting for me to come back to him on my own.
“I hate this,” he said quietly. “I hate putting you in a position where you have to hide. Where you have to lie for me.” His voice wasn’t angry—just low and raw, like it cost him something to admit it out loud.
“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” I said, meeting his eyes. “I know what I’m doing. And I know what we have to do to keep us both out of hot water. You’re worth every bit of it and more.”
For a moment, neither of us moved. The room breathed around us, heavy and light all at once.
Then, mercifully, Cal eased the tension with a small, lopsided smile. “All right,” he said, sitting back on his heels. “Tell me about your midterms. Before I take you away and corrupt you for the rest of the week.”
I huffed a laugh, the tightness in my chest starting to ease. “Yours was brutal,” I said, pointing an accusatory finger.
He looked wholly unrepentant. “Good. Would’ve been a disappointment otherwise.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re lucky it’s spring break and campus is closed. Otherwise, I might have to report you for academic cruelty.”
“Why do you think I schedule my midterm the Friday before spring break?”
I shook my head, but a smile tugged at my lips, smoothing the jagged edges of the previous conversation. I clicked my tongue at him. “Driving your students to the brink and skipping town before they can riot? You’re positively evil, Professor Hawthorne.”
“Now you’re catching on.” A smile played on his lips as he stood and reached for my hands. “Speaking of skipping town…”
I let him pull me off the couch and into his arms. “Yes?”
“I booked us a week at The Waverly on Lake Rayburn starting Sunday, if that’s not too presumptuous.”
I pulled back. “The Waverly? Seriously? How much did that set you back?”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I told you early on I wanted to wine and dine you in splendor. There’s not much opportunity up here, so please allow me this.”
“Wow. Okay. That sounds amazing.”
“Truth be told, I chose it for the seclusion and exclusivity. I want a whole week where we don’t have to hide or pretend, constantly glancing over our shoulders. I want a week where it’s just us. And I don’t care where it is, as long as we get that.”
I had no words. But he didn’t seem to mind.
“I do need to finish grading tomorrow. But the weather should be lovely if you’d like some flight time whilst I drown in exam papers.”
“A week at a luxury resortanda few hours in the sky? You spoil me.”
“That’s the idea.” He pressed a tender kiss to my lips. “In the meantime…”
“Yes?”
