it might be like with nothing between us. Just our bodies.
I bite my lip, unable to keep myself from tracing the contours of his muscled chest and abdomen with my gaze and my fingertips. Literature professors aren’t supposed to look like this. It’s unfair to the entire student body.
“You’re really hot, you know that?”
“Thanks,” he says with a laugh.
“You know how many girls at Alameda would kill to see what Professor Maximus looks like under his sweater-vest?”
“Hmm. How many?”
“Probably all of them. Funny thing, it’s not even my favorite thing about you.”
I meet his eyes. Something glimmers there. Warmth. Happiness. I don’t have to strain to sense it. Pressed this close, everything he’s feeling radiates right into me. A beam of sunshine through a cloudless sky.
He brushes his thumb over my cheek tenderly. “What’s your favorite thing about me, then?”
I smile, already enjoying the list my mind is making. All of my favorite things…
“The way you read the cantos. Like you forget other people are in the room.” I cover his hand with mine. “The way you touch me, like I’m…”
“Like what?”
I close my eyes and rest my cheek against his chest. “Like I’m precious to you.”
“You are. You should know that by now.”
His heart and the way it speeds up when we’re this close is a steady reminder of the sentiment.
I take in a deep breath, grateful how the pain in my chest is slowly receding. The simple gift of his presence is pushing the misery away little by little. Even if it all comes back tomorrow, I have this right now. This one perfect moment with him.
Our fingers hook and thread.
“Your turn,” I finally say.
“My turn?”
“You have to tell me your favorite things about me.”
He blows out a long breath. “Well… That’s a long list. You don’t need me to tell you how brilliant you are, but I’ll put it at the top. We could put everything else aside, and that alone would knock me to my knees.”
I feel my cheeks warm at the compliment. I’m tempted to remind him about the time he tried to cut me from his class for my supposed shortcomings, but I resist. I knew better anyway.
“You surprise me…all the time,” he continues. “I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth.”
I laugh. “That’s probably not always a good thing.”
“At least it’s real. You’re real.”
I sigh…relax into him a little more…wonder how it’s possible to be this content with someone else. I’m happier than I can ever remember being, even in the wake of all that’s gone wrong today.
Everything…
But I refuse to think about that. Not now.
“What else?”
“Are you fishing for compliments?”
I smile. “You said it was a long list. I’m just curious.”
“It’s just a hundred other things that make you unfairly perfect. Your sexy little body. Your smile.” He touches my chin, lifting my gaze to his. “And I’m kind of a fan of the way your eyes light up like a forest fire.”
I bite my lip, unsure how to feel about that. I should be ashamed of the eerie abnormality, but what if I didn’t need to be?
“How does that work anyway?” He murmurs it like it’s a secret between us.
It could be.
I lift my shoulder and release my lip, feeling brave. “It’s genetic.”
He pauses. “Your mother too?”
“All of us. Well, not—”
“Not your grandfather.”
I shake my head. “No.” But I don’t want to talk about that either. I want to talk about us. The way Maximus stimulates my mind and everything else. The way he flips every switch on my body. My thoughts race over our more intimate memories, making my skin heat. “It happens when I’m feeling things strongly. Usually when I’m really pissed off. And I guess when I’m…aroused.” Suddenly shy, I look down. “The other night…I didn’t realize that would happen. That’s why I left so fast,” I add quietly. “I don’t have that much experience, if you couldn’t tell.”
He doesn’t say anything at first. Every second that goes by, I worry I’ve said too much, until I can’t take the silence anymore and break it.
“Does that bother you?” I ask, looking up.
His gaze intensifies. My attraction to him skyrockets when those cobalt rings in his irises are more defined. “Why would it bother me?”
“I guess it’s one of those things people hype up to be more of a big deal than it is.”
A corner of his mouth quirks up. “Call me a romantic, but it seems like a big deal to me. You trusting someone