My body tenses up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He sits straight, and I see his face contorting as he realizes his mistake. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I’ve just had more life experiences than you.”
“That goes without saying, Grayson. You’ve lived longer than I have, have been married, had an entire career, and experienced something no one should have to—but we’re both adults.” I take another drink, anger flowing through me.
“Sure, but you’re still in college…”
“Weren’t you trying to figure out what my major was a couple of months ago, in a bar where you fingered me in?” I say the last part a little lower. As angry as I’m getting, there’s still some common sense left in me.
“That was before…” He doesn’t need to say the rest of the sentence, we’re right back to where we started. I should’ve known better than to think this was anything other than a way to avoid confronting what he’s really feeling.
Nodding, I down the rest of my drink and rummage through my handbag.
“What are you doing?” Grayson’s voice is merely an echo behind the loud, angry thumping of my heart.
Taking a hundred-dollar bill, I place it on the table and stand. “You knew this entire time that I was twenty-one and you were thirty-one. You knew I was in college, and we’ve known for weeks that you teach at the same university I attend. But my age matters now?” Grabbing another fifty, I lean down before leaving to call an Uber and channel all my frustration into this one sentence. “Just because you’re older than me and have lived a different life doesn’t make you any smarter or more mature than I am.” Standing and ignoring whatever look Grayson’s giving me, I walk toward Cecil, hand him the fifty, and thank him for a great night. I smile at the hostess and don’t look back to see if Grayson is following me or not.
How dare he treat me like a child. I may be throwing a small tantrum, but he kept saying the wrong things and actingas if I haven’t lived through anything, gone through anything. He’s barely scratched the surface in getting to know me, but I told him something my friends only know in passing. They don’t know the details that my family does about my cousin. And even then, only Mom knows aboutThe Princess Bridebecause she caught me reading it at an event when I was sixteen.
What was the point of showing me a place like this and making fun conversation only to fuck it up by calling me young when he’s also young and has so much to learn? We both do—that’s the beauty and frustration that is life. We never stop learning.
He knew my age when he kissed, touched, and flirted with me this semester.
“God,” I grit out angrily when I reach the top of the stairs and knock three times like the sign says to.
The moment the bookcase door opens, Grayson’s voice echoes at the bottom of the stairs. “Emma, wait.”
I shake my head and don’t answer as I walk as fast as these heels allow me.
I’m about to round the corner to the lobby when the clicks of his Oxford shoes grow louder.
“Leave me alone, Grayson.”
His strides quicken, and so do mine, but I’m no match for someone of his height. “Just wait.” He wraps a hand around my forearm, and I immediately pull another simple move from my back pocket. Grabbing one hand with the other and pushing away easily, I go back to walking away. “Will you stop doing that?”
“Sorry, reflexes,” I lie and open the front door of the hotel onto the quiet street, damning myself for not thinking of where to go. I think of the nearby bookstore I’ve visited a few times with the gang. It’s closed, but it’ll be somewhere quiet and hopefully safe while I order my Uber. “Do not follow me,” I throw over my shoulder.
As soon as I move, so does he. “Let me drive you home, it’s not safe here at night.”
“As you’ve seen, I can handle myself.”
Turning the corner to where the bookstore is, I’m spun around until I’m pressed against a brick wall, making me gasp.
Grayson grabs my chin and tilts my head up, forcing me to see the mix of fury and desperation in his eyes. “Stop fucking running away, Emma.”
I almost growl at him as I pull his hand away from my face and attempt to move under his arms that are caging me in. Then both of his hands wrap around my hips, pressing me back against the wall. Only this time, his body matches the movement as well.
Although I’m still pissed, I can’t help the heat that pools in my core from his hot breath against my neck, causing my body to break out in goose bumps.
“What are you doing?” My voice is quieter than before, but the anger is still there.
“Not letting you get away.”
His hands remain on my hips as I risk a look at him, ignoring my body’s natural reaction to his touch. The pupils I see are dilated, and his eyes seem to be pleading for another chance. His jaw remains tight as always.
“Are you sure you want to keep your hands where they are? Even in the dark, I’m still twenty-one, Professor.”
That only makes his grip tighter, and I smirk at the same frustration I’m feeling, reflected in his features.
