I shook my head. “The way he went about all of this was underhanded in the worst kind of way.” My mother didn’t say anything, and instead I hugged her as we both sat there in quiet, the atmosphere heavy and thick.
He’d done this to her and me, and all I wanted to do was shout and scream at him, to tell him how much I despised him, how witnessing the misery he caused in my mom made me abhor him.
But I didn’t need that in my life. Neither of us did. All we could do now was go on.
All we could do now was live this new life.
And all I could think of on the tails of that notion was how I wanted that new life to be with Seth.
The more time I spent with Grace, the more I realized that my concentration on anything that didn’t concern her was pretty well impossible. I brushed a hand over my jaw, a day’s worth of scruff scratching over my palm. I attempted to focus on the papers that had been turned in from my pupils, although my infatuation with Grace made everything else dull in contrast.
I just wanted to be with her, to spend every waking moment with her. It was this ache inside of me that increased constantly, summoning this swarm that wouldn’t be contained.
I sat back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. Although I’d seen her in class, we hadn’t had a free minute to be together. And it was slowly eating at me. I realized I needed her in my life in every conceivable manner. I needed to touch her, kiss her, simply hug her every day.
I stood, not able to sit any longer, and moved over to the window. I leaned against the wall and folded my arms across my chest as I peered out at the university grounds. I could see the parking lot, the student lounge beside it. There was a huge grassy area where, during the warmer months, kids sat out and studied.
Although I didn’t care if anyone knew about my relationship with Grace, I knew she worried. It was on my mind; how they’d respond, if they’d see her in a different light. It was the latter that scared me the most, because I realized humans could be heartless bastards. I knew they might circulate tales, talk things about her, think badly of her. That’s what I was concerned about if others found out.
My career, my reputation… just things in this world that didn’t mean crap compared to the greater picture.
And that enormous picture was Grace.
There was a knock on my door. I turned and stared over my shoulder, not moving from the location. “Come in,” I yelled, my voice echoing in the small interior of the office. I assumed it was Amy, my TA, but a nice surprise hit me when I realized that it was Grace.
She came inside and locked the door behind her. I was already striding toward her, had her in my arms, my palm cupping the back of her head, and just held her. I buried my face in her hair, shutting my eyes and inhaling deeply.
The aroma of lemons invaded my nostrils. “I was just thinking about you,” I murmured gruffly near her ear and brushed my kisses across her cheek, around her jaw, and forced my mouth to hers.
She kissed me slowly, softly, but I quickly realized something was amiss. I pulled back and glanced down at her, the expression on her face telling me she was guarded, that she was attempting to appear like nothing bothered her. But she couldn’t hide it from me.
I’d studied her for too long, knew her facial expressions, what she liked and didn’t like, knew when anything was wrong. And being with her, finally claiming her, had only exacerbated all of that.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” Instantly, my thoughts went to some tiny fucker hurting her. I couldn’t control it, couldn’t help the possessive, protective side that surged up in me where she was concerned.
She didn’t say anything at first, simply exhaled and shook her head. I took her over to the couch and sat down, keeping her hand in mine, in fact, wanting her on my lap so I could hug her, so I could comfort her.
“My mother came by last night,” she added softly. “Apparently my father is having another baby with his wife.” She breathed again as if she were annoyed.
When Grace sat back on the couch and tipped her head, resting it on the cushion and staring at the ceiling, I stared at the fine column of her throat, at the way her pulse beat steadily beneath her ear.
“The crazy part of all of this is not that I’m upset he’s having another one, especially at his age. But that he injured my mother.”
She looked at me then, and I could see she was upset, but she was so damn strong.
I stretched out and cupped her cheek, my fingers wrapped lightly around the base of her neck. Her long, dark hair slid over my hands, around the back of the couch.
“Seth,” she whispered quietly. Grace looked at me then, something flashing across her features. “I just want to feel something other than this hurt and frustration.” She shifted on the couch so she was facing me, and I maintained my palm on her cheek.
I’d do anything for her, and the idea she was in pain, that maybe I could offer her some relief, take some of the hurt away so it was off her mind, had me reacting fast.
I leaned in and kissed her, sliding my tongue over the seam of her lips, felt her lean against me.
“I love you,” I whispered against her mouth, and she sighed, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling herself closer to my body. “God, I love you so much it feels like my heart could stop from it.”
She leaned back and looked me in the eyes. “Don’t ever leave,” she said with this urgency in her voice.
“Never.”
