I have about a four-and-a-half-hour car ride, and I can either read the text and overthink whatever it says. Or I can ignore the text and overthink the possibilities of what it says. I’ve gone this long without reading it; what’s a few more hours?
I read the text because I am a glutton for punishment.
Not even a goodbye?
That’s all it says. I’m baffled.
It’s clearly from Asher, but of all the things he could’ve sent me, he chose those simple four words?
What did he expect? That we’d wake up together, cook breakfast, and talk about our feelings? Clearly, we’re both attracted to each other. But he’s also made it abundantly clear that this is not something we should be pursuing.
And yet, you both keep making the same mistakes.
Though this time it’s so much worse.
Kissing him is one thing. Talking outside of class is one thing. Flirting is one thing.
Having sex with my professor is a whole other thing.
We’ve crossed a line that we can’t undo.
I let my forehead thunk against my steering wheel, groaning in frustration.
I majorly fucked up.
18
ASHER
I roll over in bed,and the sheets still smell like her.Fuck.
I reach for her, only to be met with nothing but cold bedding. I open my eyes and glance around, hoping that maybe she went to the bathroom. I hold my breath, listening for any sign of life. The only thing I hear is the sound of early morning traffic outside my window. I check my en-suite, the bathroom in the hallway, and the kitchen, but Summer is gone.
She left. She really just woke up and left without a word.
What did you think would happen? You’d both wake up, have sex again, and then eat breakfast in bed?
I mean, yeah, maybe I’d been hoping for that.
It’s not that I think so highly of my sexual prowess that the idea of a girl sneaking out on me is unbelievable… but it hasn’t happened since my early twenties. That must count for something, right?
It’s possible she never meant for it to go so far last night. I certainly didn’t invite her over with the intent to sleep with her.But she opened the door just as I was about to knock. And if the multiple orgasms are anything to go by, she seemed to have enjoyed herself.
You’re just trying to excuse your deplorable actions,my guilty conscience snarls.You wanted her, and whether you intended for it to happen or not, you had her.
I groan as I sit up, rubbing the stiff muscles in my neck.
I make my way to the bathroom, turn on the shower, then turn it off because the idea of washing away the smell of her makes my heart physically ache.God, what’s happening to me?
I brush my teeth and run a hand through disheveled hair, sighing. There are dark circles under my eyes, a physical reminder of my time with Summer. Stubble runs across my cheeks, and I decide to shave before heading to the kitchen to make myself something to eat.
What if I never hear from her again? What if the only time she even acknowledges my existence is when she absolutely has to in class? My phone burns a hole in my pocket as I debate texting her.
How bad will it feel for her to ignore me? Should I just wait and see if she reaches out to me? I open the fridge, hoping that cooking will give my hands something to do other than texting Summer.
Have I ruined everything? Sure, it’s not like we’re anything… but we also aren’t nothing. Should I have just been content with the small amounts of time I’d managed to steal with her? But that’s the thing. I’m not content with the small amount of time I’ve spent with her. I want more. And I want more than just stolen kisses and hurried touches in hidden places. I want to talk to her more, see what she looks like when she wakes up in the morning. I want to learn her favorite movies, whatshe likes to cook after a long day, and listen to her talk about her favorite books.
Seriously,whatis happening to me?
