“Shouldn’t you be out there with Fallon?”
Was that a hint of jealousy I heard in his voice?
“Fallon and I came here together but aren’ttogether,if that’s what you’re asking.”
He shook his head. “It’s not my business.”
I took a step closer to him. “It kinda sounds like you want it to be your business.”
He grabbed my arm and directed me to the far end of the hallway. It was dark and unlikely that anyone would notice us even if they went to the bathroom. “We’ve talked about this. I’m your professor. Nothing more can happen between us.”
I took a step forward and whispered into his ear. “You’re not my professor here,Hayden.”
Pulling back, we stared at each other for a beat before he grumbled, “Fuck it,” and crashed his mouth to mine while pushing me against the wall.
I’d waited weeks to feel his lips again, and this kiss felt even more electric than the ones we’d shared the night we met. When he slid his tongue into my mouth, I couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped. I moved my hand down his body and cupped his very noticeable bulge and his dick hardened even more under my touch.
“God, I want you so much,” I growled as his lips trailed down my neck.
Abruptly, he broke our kiss and said, “I gotta go.”
He rushed out of the hallway, and it took a second for me to process what had happened. Following his path, I stepped into the open space and looked at the table he had been sitting at, but another group was there. When I didn’t see him at the bar, I peered through the sea of people near the door just in time to see him walk outside.
I ordered a shot of tequila and another beer before returning to the table where I’d been sitting, which—lucky for me—was still free. Downing the shot, I tried to numb the empty feeling that had settled over me. Fallon was on the dance floor with the blond, which gave me a chance to collect my thoughts. I’d give myself the night to have a pity party, and then I would finally put what had happened with Hayden behind me and move on.
* * *
Glancing at the clock,I saw it was nearly ten. I’d spent most of my Saturday working on assignments. In a few short months I’d be graduating, and I was determined to not fall behind on classwork. As I shut off my laptop, my cell chimed with a text.
Dylan: Hey. Has Lisa messaged you?
Usually, I was happy to get a message from my brother, but him mentioning our biological mother concerned me.
Me: No. I still have her number blocked. Why?
The dots that indicated he was typing kept flashing, but it took a bit for another text to come through.
Dylan: I must have forgotten to block her when I got my new number. Somehow she found it and texted me
My brother and I had cut off all contact with Lisa years ago. After she and our dad divorced when Dylan and I were toddlers, she only parented when she felt like it or when it served her to pretend to be a mom. Our dad was the one who loved us unconditionally, and who made sure we were taken care of.
When I was fourteen, she had gotten engaged to a guy named Miguel. During a trip to Texas to visit her, she and her fiancé found out my dad was dating Chase, and they decided they weren’t going to send my brother and me back home since they didn’t approve of my father’s relationship with another man. It was a total clusterfuck that ended with my dad getting full custody of me and Dylan. Lisa was granted supervised visitation once a month, and Miguel had to stay a hundred yards away from us. After our first visit with her where she continued to spout homophobic shit, we both told our dad we didn’t want to see her anymore, and since Lisa didn’t like it when being a parent took effort, she didn’t fight it.
Me: What did she want?
Dylan: She said she divorced Miguel and moved back to San Diego. I guess she wants to see us
Me: Too bad for her, we don’t live there anymore
Not that my location mattered. Even if I did live in San Diego, I wouldn’t want to see her. Maybe some people could change, but I highly doubted she had. She never once made an attempt to apologize for what happened between us, or acknowledge how hurtful her behavior had been over the years.
When Dylan didn’t reply to my last text, I sent another:
What are you going to do?
Dylan: Idk. I don’t really want to see her
Me: Then don’t. You don’t owe her anything
