Looking down, I find both of his hands clenched into fists resting against the desk, then I raise my gaze to his face, where his jaw is tighter than usual, and there’s a certain fire burning behind his eyes.
I chuckle at the effect I have on him. “No.”
“No?” He laughs humorlessly.
“No more excuses and no more apologies.” I stand tall. “We keep saying that this is purely professional, but nowI’msaying enough. Enough with the lies, the doubt, the constant miscommunication, the cryptic messages, and the apologies for things neither one of us truly regrets because we’re too afraid to saywhat we feel out loud.” His cheeks flush red as my heart pounds. His eyes widen as he processes my words before returning to their normal size. “You’re older than me. You’ve been married and divorced. You lived in another country and moved back to start over. When I met you, I thought you were a man who knew what he wanted.” I step back. “I was sorely mistaken.” Grabbing my bag, I sling the strap over my shoulder. “If you can’t admit your attraction toward me, then fine, but at least do me the courtesy of answering my questions for the article. You know, the ones you’re too scared to answer, but I still need?”
All I receive at my grand speech is silence.
“Of course you’re not going to say anything.” He still hasn’t rejected me until now. He hasn’t denied his feelings, but he hasn’t confirmed them either, and I’m tired of not getting any answers. I’ve always been straightforward, and I thought he would be too, but I was wrong. It’s officially killing the fantasy I’ve held on to since July.
“Message well received, Professor Hayes. I’ll see you next week.” Keeping my emotions in check, I walk toward the door. As I’m about to open it, a large hand grips my forearm, and I turn to meet his stare.
“Come with me.”
Um…what? “What do you mean by ‘come with me’? Come with you where?”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he opens the door, gently pushes me out, and grabs my wrist, practically dragging me to where the parking lot is as I try to shake his hand off.
“Let me go! Where are you taking me? Are you kidnapping me?”
He ignores me, only giving a small shake of his head.
“Grayson, tell me where we’re going now or else!”
All I get in response is a snort as if my threat is hollow.
Letting out an annoyed breath, I put in half my strength and manage to twist Grayson’s arm enough to make him trip a bit, asa warning. He looks back at me, confused, but still doesn’t let go. Smirking, I look him straight in the eye and place my free hand on my trapped wrist. Using all my strength this time, I push my top hand downward and twist, causing him to release me while he winces. Then I make him stumble back as I put my hands on his chest and move forward.
He looks at me with wide eyes as if he’s never seen me before. I take a few steps back. “If you were a stranger, I would’ve hit you in your diaphragm or punched you in the face.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”
Rolling my eyes, I throw a hand up in frustration. “I wasn’t scared, Grayson. If I were, you’d be in a lot more pain. I just hated you not answering me and pulling me away like a rag doll.”
He sighs, removes his glasses, and rubs his forehead. “I’ll answer the questions you need answers to?—”
“You will?!”
“If,” he emphasizes. “You come with me.”
Looking at him with narrowed eyes, then at his truck just a couple of feet away, I give a small dip of the chin and lead the way. Grayson catches up to me in two seconds but continues to walk at my slower pace. Glancing briefly at him, I smile at the small gesture. He turns and catches me before I swivel my head to the passenger door.
Observing the height off the ground as I did before, I groan.
“Don’t worry,” he says from behind me and unlocks all the doors. “I’ve got you.”
Grayson then grabs me by the hips and lifts me until both of my heels hit the step, staying there until I’m safely inside. Another gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He walks around the car as I buckle my seat belt. Once he’s inside and starts driving, I notice my light gray sweater dress’sskirt is riding up a bit. I pull it down over my sheer black tights, feeling Grayson’s gaze on me. I glance at him and see his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. There’s obvious tension in the air, we’re both feeling it.
“Tears” by Sabrina Carpenter plays on the radio station he’s still listening to for some reason, and I roll my eyes while trying to hide my smirk at the lyrics. Grayson’s obviously paying attention to the lyrics, too, if his shifting and clearing of the throat is any indication. I put a hand over my mouth and lean on the car door, trying to suppress a laugh.
Seriously, though, hasn’t this guy ever heard of a phone and Bluetooth? His car has a screen and everything.
After the song changes to one I don’t recognize, I lean my head back and take a deep breath to relax.There’s no reason to get stressed over this.
