Page 17 of Forbidden Lessons

“And it’s sixteen.”

“Huh?”

“Everett’s forty-one, so he’s sixteen years older than me. Not thirty.”

Ethan’s mouth went slack. “You’re also a few weeks away from moving across the country.” He gave a thin smile. “You’re still taking that job with Promethean Technologies, right?”

“Obviously.” Alex worked to smooth his shirt collar. It had been washed too many times.

“You’ve only got a few weeks left at this prison,” Ethan said, patting his friend’s back. “Focus on your studies, spend time with your friends, and push away whatever you’re feeling for Everett. They’ll fade if you don’t feed them. Stay Mr. Practical a while longer.”

Alexlingeredoutsidethemassive oak front door to Julian’s house, rereading the sign: “Book Clubbers Come In.” He turned the polished brass knob and pushed his way inside, intending to clean the slate and confess his Silicon Valley job offer.

His resolve diminished when he stepped into the vast empty foyer. His tennis shoes squeaked against the polished marble floor, and the sound bounced off the walls in eerie echoes.

“Uh… hello?” To his right was the living room, which looked like something out of the historical TV dramas he’d flipped past. Rows of aged furniture stood in quiet dignity, crammed among what looked like relics from another era. Certainly, nothing you could buy in one hundred particle-board pieces and assemble with an L-shaped wrench. His gaze traveled up the towering bookshelves crammed with volumes old and new and stretching up to a ceiling two stories high. He’d stepped back in time, far, far away from his tech-filled, minimalist dorm room.

“Julian? You around?” Alex stepped farther into the living room, taking deep breaths to steady his spinning thoughts. He’d resisted—avoided?—texting him after their hookup. In fact, he’d emailed the headhunter after getting from The Crimson Lantern and accepted the job offer. Graduation was a few short weeks away, then Alex would box up his memories of Blue Ridge College and drive away to California. Forever.

Yet, he’d given in to his temptations, texting Julian a half hour earlier to tell him he was coming. He hadn’t had time to watch the movie, let alone readPride and Prejudice. He planned to sit in the corner and listen intently. When it was over, he would tell Julian the truth. Alex owed him that much, though part of him hoped Julian would be the one to end things. Alex didn’t trust himself around his hunky professor. Especially after a lively discussion of literature.

Before he could spiral deeper into his thoughts, familiar arms encircled him from behind. Julian’s soothing blend of amber and sandalwood mingled with the musky undertones of his skin.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

Alex turned, allowing Julian to trace the contour of his jaw before leaning in for a kiss. The soft touch of his lips sent a current of electricity through Alex’s body. All of his systems—physical and metaphorical—had overloaded, and his brain went blank like a computer screen in sleep mode.

When their kiss ended, he opened his mouth but hesitated.Tell him… “I wasn’t expecting the VIP treatment,” he said instead, cursing his quickly derailed intentions for honesty.

“VIP? This is how I greet all my guests.”

Alex chuckled. The guy cracked jokes now. “Where is everyone? You told me four p.m., right?”

“I did, but they won’t be here for another hour.” Julian tilted his head like a curious puppy. “I wanted you all to myself.”

Alex shook his head, the knot in his stomach unraveling. “Jokes and tricks. Your mask is slipping, Professor.” He took in Julian’s tailored gray trousers and midnight-blue cashmere sweater that accentuated his fit frame. Adjusting the collar of his polo, he regretted the decision to wear comfortable baggy jeans.

Julian ran a hand along Alex’s arm. “You look perfect. Handsome and comfortable, just how I want you.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “Would you be my sous-chef? I could use your help with the tapas.”

Alex snorted, recalling his first invitation to a tapas bar, which he had misheard astoplessbar. He resisted sharing that factoid with Julian and followed, admiring the antique furnishings and artwork on the walls. If he listened hard enough, Alex could hear the walls taunt him in posh British accents. Everything seemed meticulously curated by someone with sophisticated tastes—everything Alex was not.

“I’m attempting cheese crisps.” Julian reached into a high cabinet for a cookie sheet and a silicone mat. “Would you grate some parmesan for me?”

Alex shifted his feet, staring at a block of cheese and a strange metal tool he’d seen his mother scrape her feet with. “Uh… what is that?”

“Hmm?” Julian glanced at the utensil. “A zester. Haven’t you used one before?”

“Gosh, I haven’t zested since high school.” As Alex grappled with the unfamiliar tool, Julian’s light chuckle reached his ears. “When I broke my favorite zester, no other zester could take its place.”

“We all have our zester crosses to bear. Here, let me show you how it works.” He slid behind Alex and guided his hands. “Ooh, I like this position.”

That earned a smile from Alex. As a lost tourist in this lavish world, he at least had Julian as his interpreter.

A throat-clearing interrupted their kitchen banter.

“Hope I’m not too early.” Dr. Gray stood in the kitchen doorway, a bottle of wine cradled in one arm.

“Nate the Great! You made it!” Julian hopped back to greet his friend, a slight strain in his smile.

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