Oh no. He’s already trying to brush me off. He’s trying to tell me that this can never happen again.
I shake my head, removing his touch and placing distance between us. “Don’t worry. I get it. This was a one-time thing.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
He wasn’t going to tell me we shouldn’t do this anymore? By the look on his face, he certainly wasn’t intending to propose. I can’t imagine what else he needs to say that doesn’t include placing more distance between us.
“It’s just that-”
“Professor Hawthorne?” The pounding on the door grows.
Does he think Zach sleeps in here? Why the hell is still knocking on the door at this time? Why does he expect an answer at all?
“He’s not going to let up.” Zach reaches for me. His arm encircles my waist and all the heat from before rekindles into a burgeoning bonfire. “We will talk.”
I nod, wanting to believe the reassurance in his gaze. “Fine. We’ll talk.”
“Good.” He kisses me one last time, a full, impassioned kiss that awakens a whole new string of stirrings. “Wait here for another five minutes, then head out to the left. I’ll lead him away so he doesn’t see you.”
He lets me go and walks across the room to answer the door. He disappears behind it flawlessly, as if he had practiced hiding women in his office all these years. For all I know, he has. Maybe telling me we need to wait is all just an act to make me crack.
We need to talk, huh?Great.
This can’t be good.
Chapter Twenty
Zach
So much for keeping my distance.
One hot, sexy demand, and I crumbled like Sampson before Delilah. That wasn’t true. It wasn’t just the sex. All the confessions preceding it silenced any doubts in my mind. I wanted to be that man she imagines I am. Someone she can place her trust in. Someone she can love.
You’re the first man I’ve ever let into my heart.
Did Aly love me?
Was she falling as hopelessly into this trap of ours as I was? And where would that lead us? I was supposed to be dating Chloe. I was supposed to be coming up with a plan to get out of this mess my father created. Not enmeshing myself further in a web of fantasies I can’t escape.
“I’m glad I could catch you after office hours,” Jackson says, walking alongside me down the corridor. I had muttered some lame excuse about needing more coffee to sit through another meeting and all but dragged the kid down the hallway.
“Yes, well.” I stumble to concoct some ingenious excuse for still being here this late. “I still have a few papers to read over and the final revisions for your proposal.”
So much for even keeping this a secret. One stupid question and I’m floundering like a murder suspect under heat lamps. I haven’t been treating this relationship with the care it needs. We were behind closed doors. Sure. But in my office? It wasn’t even like it was that late in the evening to be doing something like this and get away with it. There are still people on campus, still night classes being taught and a few of our diehard professors who stay behind to catch up on work. There isn’t usually anyone here in this part of the college at this time of night.
We’re still going about this all wrong. I should be ten times more careful than usual. Not just somewhat careful.
This is all going to blow up in our faces.
“How is Aly doing?” Jackson asks.
An instinct triggers inside me. Like a predator acknowledging another beast trespassing onto his territory. Or perhaps a prey recognizing the potential danger of a nearby threat.
“Do you think we will be fairly close in the running this year?” Jackson adds. He knows I can’t answer that. That isn’t what he meant by asking about Aly.
He knows something.
We reach the faculty lounge and the coffee pot I’m feeling in need of more and more. If only I could toss a shot of whiskey into this, it would be perfect. Jackson doesn’t say anything else. He just takes a seat at one of the tables and starts texting on his phone.