My cock reacts suddenly. I release a soft groan. “I’ll be fine.”
I bend down to retrieve her clothes and hand them to her. The slight pout of her lips makes me want to forget everything I’ve just said, and contemplated, and give in to her one last time. My eyes glide down her soft, smooth body.Christ.I can still taste her on my lips.
I turn away.
This isn’t going to help me to keep things simple between us. Panic slowly sinks in. We’re only a week into the semester. I have another three months of her in my class, and two months to help her whip her project into shape. I can handle the classroom. There are about a hundred students in that one lecture hall. I’m sure I can manage to keep my distance and focus on something other than how wonderful her climax sounds.
But our meetings for her proposal is another story. Sitting across from her, one-on-one, and not touching her, seems like a torture reserved for the second circle of hell. I won’t be able to control myself until the end of the semester. I can’t even control myself now.
An idea strikes me. I clear my throat and tread lightly. “You know, Marianne dual-majored in public relations and mental health counseling.”
Silence.
I face her. She stares blankly at me, the only article of clothing yet to be replaced is her shirt. Another second of uncomfortable silence, and she slips the shirt on over her head. “And why are you telling me this?”
“She and Derek work together on consultations. Helping charities get up and running. Things like that. I think you could learn a lot from her.”
A shadow forms at the center of her brow. Not a full-on crease, but enough to show she’s suspicious. Her hands plant themselves on her hips. I’m in trouble if I don’t execute this properly. “What are you saying?”
“I think Derek would be the better one of us to advise you on how to revise your proposal.”
The shadow on her brow deepens. I’m completely screwed now. There’s no way I could have delivered this any more artfully. But no matter whether my intentions are good or not, she is quite clearly having none of it.
“That’s not what you’re saying,” she says. “You’re saying you don’t want to be my advisor anymore. Though I can’t imagine why after how well our working relationship has been going.”
The sarcasm in her words wounds a small part of me I didn’t realize existed. I want things to work out. I want us to have a relationship where I can kiss her in public without ruining our futures. Where my closest friends don’t look at me with concern and pity in their eyes, knowing I’m already in over my head.
Now hearing her talk about our relationship like it’s the stuff of ridicule takes these feelings of hopelessness to a whole new level. I don’t want her to feel like we can’t ever be together. I just need her to know, it can’t be now.
“Aly this isn’t going to work,” I explain. “You know it’s true. There’s too much at stake for you to risk it all now.”
I reviewed her file the day before I took on her proposal. She’s had to work since the age of seventeen, sometimes pulling two jobs just to help her mother pay the bills. Then that heart-wrenching soliloquy she gave in my office a few nights ago, detailing her feelings of helping others out of depression. It had to be someone close to her. Her mother, most likely. If winning this apprenticeship gives her any relief, then it’s worth me staying away from her for a few months.
“And what exactly is at stake here, Zach?” she asks. “Your job? Are you afraid I’m going to tell on you? That I’m going to giggle about it with all my classmates?”
I roll my eyes toward the ceiling and pray for strength. Yes, my career is in jeopardy, but I can manage. Billionaires are like cats. We always land on our feet. “Aly, this isn’t about me. I’m not the only one with something to lose in this.”
She takes a step toward me. That shifting shadow at the peak of her brow wrinkles further. “Whatever I put on the line is mine to sacrifice. It isn’t your decision to make.”
“I’m not going to stand by and let you throw away something you’ve worked this hard for just because we can’t control ourselves,” I explain. It’s taking all the strength within me to keep my voice level. “We’re both adults, Aly. We can wait a few months until the-”
“A few months?”
Shit.Why did I say that? I got so caught up the argument, I completely lost my train of thought. Way to ease her into the decision.
“So now it’s not just the advisor you are trying to change,” she says. “You want us to stay completely away from each other? Formonths?”
How do I answer this without digging myself into a deeper hole? I could easily give her the money for the apprenticeship, the money to pay off her family’s debts, pay for her own practice even. Whatever she wanted. But how would that look? Me throwing money at a woman just so I can finally sleep with her.
That wouldn’t ease my guilt, and Aly would never go for it either. She wouldn’t want anything she didn’t rightfully earn. Yet there is no other way around this. We either stay away or risk it all. She may be willing to put her future on the line like that, but I am not so easily persuaded.
“Yes,” is the only answer I can think of at the moment. Even as a voice inside me cries out,no.
Her face relaxes.
All lines of frustration give way to an indiscernible emotion. The wrinkle in her forehead smooths, and her crystal blue eyes moisten. A muscle in her jaw flexes as she clamps down on her teeth, and I can tell she is struggling to convince herself I’m right. She lifts one hand in the air and shrugs.
“Fine.” She nods. “We wait until the end of the semester. And if there is still a connection...”