The Trouble With Love: An Age Gap Romance (The Forbidden Love 1)

Instinctively, I climb off him to create distance between us as he takes the call. Willing my heart rate to slow to a manageable pace, Will is less than pleased with the call, arguing with whoever is on the other end and raising his voice.

When the call ends, I place my hands on my knees, unable to look at him.

“I should go. The storm has stopped.”

“Yes,” he croaks, then clears his throat. “Of course, you have a long drive back.”

I stand up, clutching my hoodie and phone, then finally grab the keys.

“Thank you for today,” is all I can say.

With a knowing smile, his stare lingers on me, but behind it lays something else, something I choose to ignore for the very reason of being able to leave this apartment with my head and heart in check.

“You know where to find me, you know, in case you want to be adventurous again.”

The corners of my mouth quirk up, a small laugh escaping me.

“I think I’ve had enough adventure to last me for a while,” I tease, cocking my head to the side. “But in case you need a nap buddy again, you know where to find me. Just a little warning, though, next time may not end as well.”

And the joke, as intended, has left my mouth before I realize exactly who I’m speaking to.

“Careful, Amelia,” he lowers his tone with a burning gaze. “You have no clue what you’re doing.”

I allow myself to bask in his longing stare, let my body feel him all over me before I walk away. Whatever just happened is dangerous.

Yet, perhaps, we allowed our weakness to get the better of us. He’s a man, and I’m a woman. Neither one of us are in a relationship, and sexual urges are perfectly normal.

That is, unless your sexual desire is toward the one man you can’t have.

Or shouldn’t have.

Either way, I’ve entered forbidden territory.

The problem is, once you get a taste of it, it’s almost impossible to turn back.

Seventeen

Amelia

I slam the door, throwing my bag and laptop onto our sofa in an annoyed huff.

Removing my scarf, it becomes tangled in my hair, only adding to my frustration. The temperature inside our dorm room is like a goddamn oven, causing me to swelter beneath the thousands of layers I wore.

Liesel strolls out of her room, dressed in a tank and boy shorts. Considering it’s lunchtime, her attire is unusual, yet another one of her quirks.

“Okay, why the face?”

“No face,” I tell her, finally removing the scarf and tossing it on top of my bag. “Can’t you put clothes on and turn down the heat?”

Liesel releases a long-winded whistle. “What the hell happened to put you in such a bad mood? It’s been, what? Two weeks maybe of you slamming doors, all irritable.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes momentarily before falling onto the sofa.

I don’t even know where to begin. The workload has increased of late, many of my professors adding more assignments I need to complete in a short amount of time. That means long hours, more caffeine, and only a few hours’ sleep.

My family traveling to New York only adds to the pressure of me completing all my work on time, so I can focus on them. Mom shared her itinerary—a girl’s day out, a visit to some friends she wants to introduce me to who work in the legal field. Then, of course, there’s Thanksgiving.

I glance at the time on the wall clock, knowing I only have an hour to pack before the car service takes me to my parents’ penthouse in the city.