his chair. His biceps and triceps strained the sleeves of his shirt. His ass fit snug in his slacks.
“I wanted to let everyone know that we have an extra-credit opportunity this Wednesday at the William Handhurst Library.”
My gaze pulled to him. It seemed like he was working to keep from looking directly at me, and as he got into his lecture, I did my best to convince myself I’d made too much of the look he’d given me before class began. But then he handed our papers back, and at the bottom of mine, I saw the note to see him after class.
Relief pulsed through me. I should have been annoyed, or bothered, or concerned about what I’d let him read, but all I wanted was to know he hadn’t glossed over it, that he’d really cared. It was a fleeting relief, however, replaced with tension and the feeling of what the fuck had I done? Had I shared too much?
No, I told myself. I could blame it all on the play if I needed to.
And yet, even if I had shown too much of myself, this was James. And I knew he would never use any of it to hurt me. That he would keep me safe.
When the bell rang, I headed for the door, veering over to him, sliding my paper across his desk.
“Yeah?” I asked, guarded as ever, curious to see his reaction.
He stood and closed the door before approaching me and resting that sexy ass against the edge of his desk.
“That was an interesting read of Gertrude and Claudius’s relationship with Hamlet.”
“It was a dumb assignment. You know I read the play, so I wrote down whatever.” I couldn’t even look at him as I lied, and for some reason, I kept feeling like he could see right through it.
“That’s all it was?”
“What else could it be?” I had to look him in the eyes this time. And I felt so fucking vulnerable, more vulnerable than I ever cared to feel.
His gaze shifted, and maybe I read too much in his hesitation before he spoke up. “Kyle, if you do want to talk to me about something, anything, I hope you know that you can.”
His words were soft, almost a whisper, as though he was letting me know how delicate he could be with the truth.
It was all right there, lingering in the back of my throat, like if I didn’t tense up just right, it would flood out and I would tell him things I had promised myself to never let another person know. And I hated myself for that.
Why him?
It’d taken me long enough to talk to Taryn and Ben about my personal life, and even with them, they knew some things weren’t up for discussion.
But with James, what was the point?
It was something I’d asked myself enough times to know it was pathetic how much I wanted to open my heart to him.
As we looked into each other’s eyes again, I felt this flutter of hope: what if none of this was as one-sided as I feared?
No, it’s all in your dumb fucking head.
He dragged out a long breath, his hand resting on his hip. “Kyle, I don’t know what’s going on. And I hope you’re okay, whatever it is. But I would like it if you had a chance to come to the library tomorrow after school. Could use an extra pair of hands.”
He had singled me out after all, treated me like I wasn’t just one of the other students in his class. But no matter what I told myself, I couldn’t get over this fear that, even if he did see me as more, what did it matter if we could never act on those feelings?
“I’ll see if I can make time for it,” I forced out, scared that anything I said would show too much of myself. “I’ve been trying to pick up some extra hours for deliveries, so…we’ll see.” I added, “You gonna tell me my grade on the assignment?”
“It’s an A for doing it.”
“Well, next time you can put it on the paper instead of asking me to come up to your desk,” I spit out, unable to hide the disdain in my tone.
He looked shocked by it.
“You know, like you’d do for any other student. Because that’s all I am to you.”
I hurried past him, toward the door, grabbing the handle.
“Kyle.”
I wanted to breeze out, act too fucking cool to be giving so many fucks in