Chapter One
Blake
Three weeks until the end of semester
Blake Morris stared down at his coffee, trying to force his sluggish mind to wake up. His throat was dry. His whole body ached, as if reminding him of what he had lost, of the emotional IED that had gone off when he and Erin had gone on a break.
Two weeks of not touching her, not smelling her.
Not feeling her sweet body surrender underneath him.
He saw her in class, but that only made the pain more acute. She was forever in front of him, apart from him—and he, in a constant state of wanting.
The sound of tires on gravel drew his attention to the window. A beat-up sedan pulled to a stop in his driveway. His heart began to thud with a hope he could not afford. She was no longer his. If she’d come to fight for him, he would have to turn her away. And if she’d come to curse him out, it was no better than he deserved.
If it were only his reputation at stake, he would throw it away in a second. It was hers. The woman always took the blame in this situation. He wouldn’t let that follow her around, even if it killed him.
He felt like shit for fucking her.
He felt like shit for not fucking her.
It was one hell of a conundrum, but the only thing he knew for sure was that he couldn’t wait to see her. The brief moments in class were not nearly enough.
He was starved for the sight of her.
The doorbell didn’t ring. Knuckles didn’t knock. She still had a key, and he supposed she was using it. Footsteps came from behind him. He turned slightly.
Ah, there she was.
Hopeful. Bright. There wasn’t any accusation in her brown eyes, so he supposed she had come to fight for him. Somehow that made it worse. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure he would win this fight, not when he wanted so badly to lose.
She sat down on the stool next to his. They were seated at the granite bar that capped his kitchen, the same place where they’d shared a light breakfast so many mornings. He made her pancakes once. “Hey, stranger.”
There were things he should say to her. You shouldn’t be here. That much was true. I don’t want you here. That would be a lie, though it almost definitely would make her leave. He couldn’t say the words through the lump in his throat.
Hey, stranger, she’d said.
So he would play along with her game, for now. That seemed to be the only thing he was capable of doing. If only she were a little bit less pretty, a little bit less strong. If he loved her just one fraction less. “Do I know you from somewhere?” he said, his voice rough.
“We may have met. I think you taught one of my college courses.”
If the course were really in the past, if it were over, then he could touch her, kiss her. He wouldn’t be her professor in the future. It was only the present that hurt so much. “So tell me, how’d I do?”
“Oh, excellent. You got five chili peppers on the professor rating site.” At his raised eyebrow, she explained, “That means you’re hot.”
He swallowed the remainder of his coffee. “Now I know you’re lying.”
“I would rate you six chili peppers if I could.”
Even though she was just being kind, something panged in his chest. She meant he was beautiful on the inside, or she’d just gotten used to the way he looked, and it was more than enough for him. “Why did you come?” he asked softly.
She glanced down at her clothes, which he now realized where the same stretchy material she wore when she cleaned his house. “I’m here to work.”
His eyebrow rose. “You are?”
“You fired me because we were sleeping together. We’re not doing that anymore, so there’s no reason why I can’t vacuum and dust and do the dishes.”
A throb in his chest. “Erin—”
“Don’t tell me it’s a conflict of interest for a student to work for her professor. People do it all the time as research assistants or teaching assistants.”
God, the temptation to say yes overpowered him. It was impossible to say no. And it was equally impossible to say yes. He wanted Erin a thousand ways. Over him. Under him. He even longed to take her out in public, on lunches and trips to the museum and evenings at the Tanglewood symphony. And once the semester was over, he would do all those things.
If she would still have him.