My cheeks color thinking about our innocent—well, not quite innocent—dinner last night and how neither of us expected any of what came next to happen.
Lachlan takes a bite of egg. After he’s swallowed he asks, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Reaching over, I place my hand on his. “I’m great. Stop worrying.”
He nods, his jaw taut, but I feel better when it relaxes and he leans over to kiss my cheek.
This feels like the picture of domestic bliss.
If I allow myself I can pretend that we’re a couple, and this is what we do every morning. We sit down to eat together, exchange kisses, touches, and make love like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
But Lachlan isn’t my boyfriend.
He’s not my husband.
He’s not even supposed to be my friend.
In the walls of his condo it’s so easy to delude myself into thinking the outside world doesn’t exist, but it does, and our love would never be accepted. Definitely not at the school, or even in public if they knew the sordid details. I wonder what his family would think. My stomach clenches thinking of my brother.
If Sage knew where I was, what I’d done last night with my guidance counselor, he’d kill Lachlan. I know it as well as I know the sky is blue. It would send my brother into such a rage he wouldn’t consider the ramifications.
Lachlan reaches over, smoothing my brow. “You’re worried.”
I know it’s a statement, but I nod anyway. “Yeah. I guess I’m the one freaking out this time.”
“This is … complicated,” he agrees, bringing the glass to his delectable lips. “It worries me too. Stresses me the fuck out, actually.” He sets the glass down, running his fingers through his hair in aggravation. “It’s so hard not to look at you like I care, like I love you, but the
moment we’re outside of here that’s what I have to do and it fucking kills me.” He clasps his hands together, bowing his head. “This is fucked.”
I place my hand on his forearm. “Let’s not ruin this. Please? The last twelve or so hours have been the best of my life. I don’t want to feel ashamed for feeling happy.”
He touches his fingers gently to my cheek, making sure I look into his eyes when he says, “Okay, we won’t talk about it right now.” Sitting back, he lets his hand drop. “Frankly, there’s not much more that can be said that we haven’t already. And look where that’s gotten us. I think right now the best course of action is outside of here you’re my student, I’m your counselor. But here…”
“We’re us.”
He gives a single nod. “Exactly.”
Those words are easier said than done with this love that continues to grow bigger and bigger every single day.
The stare we hold tells me he’s thinking the same thing I am.
I’m not sure it’s possible for us to make it out of this unscathed.
Chapter Fifty-One
It feels strange to be back in school. The two-week break was a welcome relief, but I grew too used to being home and doing things on my own time. Getting up at six this morning killed me. It’s not like I even slept in that late during my time off, only until eight or so, but two sooner hours felt like no sleep at all.
Stifling a yawn, I head for the school from the bus. My coat helps block some of the wind, and the snow we had before is completely melted from the freak blizzard a month ago. A bunch of news stations claim climate change is responsible for the mountains of snow we were pelted with, but honestly, who knows.
I open the door into the school, warm air smacking me in the face.
Spotting Sasha standing against the wall with some of her tennis buddies I head that way with a smile on my face.
“Hey, Sasha, how was your break.”
She moves her curly blonde hair over one shoulder. “It was good, nice to get away for a while. How was yours?” She waves to her other friends as they say goodbye, heading in the other direction.
“Uneventful.” It was anything but, but it’s not like I can admit that I’m having sex with Mr. Taylor. Although, knowing Sasha she’d probably high-five me. “It was a nice quiet Christmas with my brother,” I elaborate, not wanting to come off as rude with my one-word answer.