Beauty and the Professor (A Modern Fairy Tale Duet 1)

The engine was probably cool by now. She suspected he knew she was out here, but he hadn’t come out. Wouldn’t come out. The note had made that much clear. He was going to quietly go away because she’d asked him to. God. She hated herself. Was he pissed at her? He shoul

d be. Strangely, she was pissed at him for respecting her request, since he seemed to know about Melinda’s threats. Didn’t he know she’d been desperate and distraught? Didn’t he care?

Well, she would speak to him today. He deserved that much. So here she was, gathering up the courage to go inside. Trying to figure out whether she would ask for him back or just give him the closure he deserved.

With a sigh, she stepped out of the car and went to the door. He answered after only a minute, confirming her suspicion that he knew she was out there. That he knew how hard this was for her. His expression was reserved, eyes revealing nothing. None of the hot desire he usually let her see. None of the love. The anxiety in her stomach grew heavier. Her heart beat faster.

“Good morning,” he said, and what did that even mean? She felt anxious and not totally put back together after her little breakdown.

“Morning.”

He stepped back to let her in. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as she passed. The green T-shirt he wore hung off his broad shoulders, loose where his waist narrowed. His jeans rested on his hips and sloped over muscular thighs. He was barefoot and smelling of soap…in a word, edible. But he wasn’t hers, because she’d panicked. Because she’d caved.

She turned to face him. “You look good.” A blush heated her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to say that.

He quirked that lopsided smile. “That’s one benefit of looking like I do. A few shadows under my eyes don’t make much of an impact. I couldn’t sleep.”

Her breath caught. “Blake. I’m sorry.”

“Yes, I read that in your note.” There was a reserve to his voice, making him foreign and intimidating. Not the Blake she’d lain in bed with. Not even the Blake who’d chatted with her when she came to clean his house.

“I freaked out. I made a mistake.”

“We all have our moments.” His words were forgiving. His tone was not.

She stared at him. “So, that’s it?”

“If that’s all you want, then yes. For now.” He was still courteous. Still cold.

“What do you mean for now?”

“I mean I’m not going to push you. This semester. There’s a few weeks left. If you don’t want to see me during them, I’ll respect that.”

She made a face. “And if I don’t want to see you after that?”

“You will.”

Hope bloomed inside her, fast and powerful. “You sound very sure of yourself.”

“I’m a work in progress, but this much I know, you want me. I want you. Nothing’s going to change that.”

She frowned. “How did you know what happened?”

“About Melinda? Because you aren’t the kind of woman to cut and run. It hurt like hell to get that note. Even Melinda said her goodbye face-to-face.”

Guilt squeezed her throat, making it hard to breathe. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away. She’d hurt him worse than she thought. Imagining herself so very different, so much better than Melinda and then doing the same thing. Worse.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

He looked over at the windows, where thick cream-colored drapes blocked the view. Now those were definitely new. He had been busy.

“It didn’t make sense, though, for you to do it. You’ve told me so many times you don’t care about how I look—”

“I love how you look,” she interrupted.

He smiled slightly. “Sometimes I just like hearing you repeat it.”

“Nice.”