“Did he kiss you back?”
“Huh?” I asked, not seeing her point.
“When you kissed him, did he kiss you back? Even for the slightest moment?”
I thought back. I’d instigated the kiss, but he had definitely reciprocated it. That was not all one-sided. There had been something between us.
“Yes,” I muttered. “But that’s not the point.”
“What is the point? What do you want from him, Wrenn?” she asked, pointing her spoon at me.
I couldn’t answer that. Did I want him to risk his career, sneaking around with me? No. But I couldn’t ignore my feelings either.
Chapter Twelve
Dalton
I stared at the phone after she’d hung up, telling myself over and over that this was the right thing to do. The kiss had been amazing—she was amazing—but it couldn’t happen. If only for the fact that I was her fucking teacher, this was wrong.
It didn’t feel that way, though. When we were together it felt equal. She was as bright and mature as me. That wasn’t saying much, but she wasn’t your average eighteen-year-old.
Eighteen. I was only twenty-three. She was only five years younger than me, a socially acceptable age difference. The surge of anticipation that had rushed through me when I’d found out she was eighteen had shocked me. I liked Wrenn a lot, but it was only when we kissed that I realized my feelings for her extended beyond attraction. Her comment about how, had things formed differently, we could’ve both been in college at the same time had gotten under my skin.
She was right: I wouldn’t have blinked an eye about asking out a pretty freshman.
God, those lips—so soft and smooth. And the way she’d touched my face had made me numb. My body tingled just thinking about her.
Stop! This wasn’t going to happen. Tomorrow, you are going to tell her that, and then you will distance yourself from her.
Except something told me Wrenn wasn’t going to be so easily swayed. And I knew it wouldn’t take much pushing for me to snap. I have to stop thinking about this or I’m going to go insane.
Opening the fridge, I grabbed a soda and sat down at my computer. I logged into Skype to see if Cam was around. He wasn’t, so I sent him an email.
Dude,
How’s it going? Let me know when you’re around and we’ll Skype.
Say hi to Amy.
Dalton
I’d just clicked send when a notification buzzed through from Cam saying he was online. I clicked Call. His face popped up, and I laughed. His usual shaggy blond mop of hair was styled into place, and he wore a suit instead of his usual T-shirt and jacket.
“Nice look,” I snorted.
“Yeah, well, I had an interview, then I had to do this thing for Amy. Anyway, it’s not important. What’s up?”
“Not much, dude. Just wanted a familiar face to chat to.”
“Aww, poor Dalton’s not homesick, is he?” Cam tsked as I laughed.
“Fuck off. I’ve had a hard week. This just keeps getting worse.”
“That bad?” He winced, scratching his ear.
“Let’s just say I’m making this much more complicated than it needs to be,” I sighed. Did I tell him about Wrenn, or not? I wanted to, but something was stopping me. The less people knew about this, the better. “Anyway, things will get better. They have to, right?”
“Yeah, sure,” Cam said, raising his eyebrows and not looking convinced. “So when are you back home next? We’ll catch up.”