tell literally everyone else in the class ‘good job’ when you observe their work and stay absolutely silent about mine, that says a hell of a lot about what you think of me.”
“I don’t think anything about you.”
“That’s a lie.”
Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. “Look. Miss Sinclair…”
“Elliot.”
“Elliot.” He drops his hand and gazes at me, his dark blue eyes doing that thing where they seem to see right through me.
I bite my lip. Maybe it’s a little shitty to insist he call me by my first name now, when I wouldn’t even give it to him after we had sex. But I can’t stand the formality in his tone when he calls me “Miss Sinclair”.
God, I hate that I still want him, that I’m still just as attracted to him as I was when I first saw him at the bar. It hasn’t gone away, not even when I’m pissed as fuck at him. If anything, it’s gotten worse. Now that I know what it feels like when he kisses me, how his hands feel on my body, what it feels like to have him inside me… I just crave him that much more.
Roman clenches his jaw. “I thought it would be best if… if there was not even the slightest hint of favoritism. Given what happened.”
My jaw drops in angry disbelief. “What? That’s bullshit! Neither of us knew who the other person was when it happened. It was just a random hookup; it’s not like we were aware. The admins can’t fault us for that if they find out, which they won’t. And it was just one fucking time! Unless I’ve got a twin who’s been boinking you on the side, I haven’t done anything with you since then. So why are you still acting so—so weird?”
“Because I didn’t want it to be a one time thing, Elliot,” Roman growls. When he says my name this time, there’s not a hint of formality in it, and his deep voice sends shivers down my spine. “I wanted your name. I wanted—” He breaks off suddenly, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he clenches his teeth. “I wanted more. If I hadn’t had to come to the academy, I would’ve gone back to the bar the next night to look for you. What happened between us was—”
He cuts himself off again, and his nostrils flare as he presses his lips into a thin line. My stomach flips, and I’m both glad and disappointed that he didn’t finish that sentence. What happened between us was incredible. At least it was for me. It was the kind of incredible you go back for again and again—because you just know that somehow, it’s going to get better and better every time.
And I didn’t even give him my name.
He wanted more, and I ran away.
With deliberate slowness, he rises from the desk and takes a single step toward me. “Miss Sinclair, do not mistake me for some pathetic moron who can’t get over a random hookup being in his class.”
Ouch. That fucking hurts. I’m aware I just used that exact same phrase about five seconds ago, but hearing him say it, the emphasis he puts on those two words, makes my chest squeeze painfully.
So of course I go on the offensive, lashing out like a child.
“Oh, so it’s happened before? Is this a common occurrence?” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Very funny.” He’s looming over me just the slightest bit. I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it, but it makes me want to do something stupid like press back against the student desk a few feet behind me and make him lean over me even more, make him cover my body with his.
“That’s not an answer,” I shoot back with a challenging look.
“Jesus, Reckless.” His jaw muscles pulse again, and he closes his eyes for a moment, like he’s gathering some kind of inner strength. “No, I’ve never slept with a student before. But don’t tell me you’ve never run into a random one-night stand somewhere else. It happens. I’m trying to deal with it the best way I can, but it’s… complicated. I didn’t want us to be just a one-night stand, and I still—” He stops himself, tearing his gaze away from me with a noise of frustration.
“You still…?” I prompt, my voice quiet and breathy.
Fuck. This is dangerous.
I’m not looking for a relationship. I don’t have time for something that’ll inevitably end in disaster.