She met his eyes –mistake– and let the fantasy of staying in his program for another two years play behind her eyes. More time with him, singing with him, learning from him. Wasn’t that also what she wanted?
“There are many ways to be a musician,” he continued. “If you don’t want to make music every second of every day with every part of yourself, then maybe you’re not meant to be a professional musician. But just because it’s not your career doesn’t mean it’s not who you are.”
“And if I give it up all together?” she asked.
Confusion flickered in his eyes. Hurt. “Do you want to?”
She didn’t answer, opting instead for a noncommittal shrug. She didn’t know. After everything that had happened with Aidan, she’d started to formulate escape routes, ways to never have to see him again. With graduation looming, so too was her best opportunity to chart a new course in graduate school in a field where Aidan and his family could never hold sway over her. She’d wanted to be a professional opera singer for as long as she could remember, and the idea of never again making music with Dr. Jacobs was intolerable – but what if she was clinging to a dream that would destroy her?
“It’s not about what I want,” she said at last. “It’s about what I can have.”
“I think,” Dr. Jacobs said, his voice low and gravelly, a deep rumble she could feel down to her core, “you can have anything you want, Min.”
She met his eyes. With the way he looked at her, like he’d burn her to ash with his gaze alone, she was no longer sure if they were talking about her career. She pressed her thighs together to soothe the ache there, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his.
“What do you want, contessa?” he asked, the words sending goosebumps across her skin.
“Everything,” she whispered.
Dr. Jacobs studied her, sipping his wine and leaning back in his chair. He wore the same expression as when he pored over casting decisions or chose repertoire for his orchestra – a slight purse of his full lips, his brow creased in concentration. Like the answer would materialize in front of him if he focused hard enough. Min found herself watching his lips, the way they moved as they tasted the wine, the way they brushed against the rim of his glass. She drank in the line of his jaw, the stubble on his cheek, the dip of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.
He placed his glass down and pushed away from the table. Even that sudden movement was graceful. “Let me walk you back.”
Dr. Jacobs draped Min’s pashmina around her shoulders before offering her his arm. She took it and he placed his hand on top of hers, holding her hand to the crook of his elbow, tight against his chest, as they set off down the street together.
They didn’t speak the whole walk back to the boarding house. The clicking of her heels on the cobblestones and the swish of her skirts made their own music as they walked. Her chest ached thinking it might be the last time they were alone together, a physical pain that would have been alarming if she wasn’t absolutely certain of its source.
Maybe they’d been fooling themselves all these months thinking it didn’t matter, that a few hours together were inconsequential in the face of all that kept them apart. Maybe the time they spent together was the only thing that mattered.
She leaned against Dr. Jacobs a little more than necessary, soaking up the feeling of his body against hers and breathing in his scent. She wanted to etch the moment into her body so that when they returned to New York, she could call up the memory and know that she wasn’t alone. That, if only for a little while, she was absolutely certain he cared for her.
Dr. Jacobs unlocked the gate and led her to the door, hesitating before dropping her arm. He held open the door, gesturing her inside before following her up the winding staircase to the landing at the top of the stairs, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
She wished she knew what he was thinking.
She wished she were bold enough, brave enough to ask him for what she wanted.
She wished she didn’t already know that she was going to let her last chance slip through her fingers.
“Goodnight, Min,” he said, his voice rough against her skin even as it soothed the burn.
But he made no move to go. His eyes held an uncertainty she hadn’t seen since they’d said goodbye a year ago on a busy New York sidewalk. His blue grey irises were bluer somehow, as if someone turned the kaleidoscope a fraction of a turn to reveal new patterns that only she could see. The few inches between them crackled with energy and she reached out to straighten the lapel on his jacket, letting her palm slide down his chest as it fell away.
They were only a hair’s breadth away from each other. With the tiniest movement she could be pressed flush against him. But she held her breath and didn’t move. She could feel the air shift with each of his inhalations.
He brushed his lips against her cheek at the edge of her jaw, his breath hot on her neck. Her eyes slipped closed, savoring.
“You were wonderful tonight, contessa,” he murmured against her skin.
And then he was gone.
She opened her eyes to see him disappearing around the bend in the staircase. Min pressed her fingers to the place where she could still feel Dr. Jacobs’ lips and slumped against the door. How could she ever go back to how things had been for the last year? How could she go back to pretending she didn’t want him? That he was just her professor?
As if he had ever been just that.
Chapter Thirteen
Liam didn’t even try to sleep. He would have given anything for the night to never end so he wouldn’t have to leave Min and this bubble they were living in.Fantasy. They’d been living in a fantasy. And it was time to put that aside and focus on what really mattered – this new program, his career. Things that were reliable and predictable.Love is neither of those things, he reminded himself. Not that he loved Min. But there was no denying he cared for her – too much – and that he was attracted to her, that she made him want things he’d never really considered wanting before.
