I swallowed.
It sounded like he was rejecting me in the kindest way possible.
So he’d rather crawl back to a safe, boring life with a cheating ex than risk something real with me, because I was young? Messed up?
I didn’t buy it.
“You want me,” I said, eyes locking on his. He swallowed. “You’re scared I’m a fucked-up asshole, but you still want me. And I bet those tears aren’t even for your little wife, they’re for me.”
His gaze searched my face before a dry laugh slipped out. “God, you’re a brat. Didn’t hear a damn thing I said. You just caught the part where I called my wife boring.”
“Look me in the eyes,” I challenged. “Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me I’m ruining your life, and I’ll walk away.”
“You will? Doubt it.” He gave a humorless laugh, almost to himself, before meeting my gaze again. “You are ruining my life, Ryan.”
The words knocked the air out of me.
He leaned in, his body closing the distance until I could feel his breath warm against my lips. I wasn’t sure if the alcohol in the air was his or mine.
His eyes dropped to my mouth, and for a long second, he just stared.
“But… maybe I’ve been letting you from the start.”
He leaned in, slow enough for me to feel every inch of distance disappear. The air between us tightened, humming with something dangerous.
His hand slid up, fingers curling against my jaw, tilting my face toward him. My pulse was loud in my ears, matching the steady rise and fall of his breath.
He was close now, close enough that the faint scent of soap and whiskey wrapped around me. His gaze dropped to my mouth, lingered there, and my lips parted on instinct.
I swore I could already feel the ghost of his kiss.
His lips parted, and I moaned as his tongue swirled deep inside.
He’s mine.
All mine.
He may be in denial but what he really wanted was clear after all.
I was right the whole time.
I just had to stop giving him room to doubt or deny it.
I needed him to know he's mine, whether he liked it or not.
Present
Chapter 13
NATHAN
“Nice to meet you,” I said, my lips curling into something polite as I shook hands with our new English department head.
“The pleasure’s mine, Mr. Thorne.” She smiled like she meant it.
“Please, Claire, call me Nathan.” I step back, letting Michael swoop in and play tour guide around the humanities hall.
My phone buzzed. Lilly again.
