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The ball cap wasn’t anywhere in sight and he ran a hand through his hair, his expression tortured.
I put a finger to my lips. “Wait until we get inside.”
I unlocked the apartment door and walked inside, throwing my purse and laptop bag onto the desk and walking over to the window to let in some air. Then I got two bottles of water from the refrigerator and handed one to Garrett, nodding towards the couch.
“Okay.” I told him. “I think what I need right now is brutal honesty. From yourself and from me. Talk to me from the start of us meeting. Did you know I was a professor at your college?”
Garrett shook his head. “No. When you slipped from the treadmill I had never seen you before, but… I know this sounds dumb… but I felt a connection to you. When you said you were a professor, I had no idea it was at my college. I had never seen you on campus and there are so many business colleges in New York. I never gave it any consideration.”
“So, what were you doing in Granger Lodge?”
“I live there.”
“What?” My fingers touched my parted lips.
“I live there. I moved in Saturday morning, so I’ve lived there two whole days.”
“What was Friday night about?” I knew of course from Marcus but I wanted to hear whether Garrett would tell me the truth.
“That was my final challenge to win my accommodation, but then you must have known that to be in the room…”
He left his sentence hanging.
“I need wine.” I told him. “Water will not cut it.”
Returning with a bottle of red and two glasses, I poured my own and left the other glass and bottle there. Garrett could get his own.
I sat back on my side of the couch and curled my legs under myself.
“I used to, God, how do I define it? After school sometimes I used to stay behind with one of the male professors. He left at the end of the last year. We’d make out in the staff room, give each other satisfaction.”
“Did you fuck him?” Garrett’s jaw tightened, and a tic pulsed in his cheek.
“Once. A goodbye fuck when he was leaving.” I stared across the room for a moment as Garrett’s gaze was too intense. I felt like he was burning me. “He left me a letter. Told me that Granger House had a kinda initiation that was sexy…” My voice trailed off and I took a slug of wine before continuing. “He knew I liked the risk, the thought of being caught. That was what had turned me on in the staff room, more than him, he was just a body. It was the idea of getting caught that made me come.”
“So how did you end up in the room?” He asked.
“I watched the girl panic. She climbed through the window and ran away. It was a split second impulsive decision to take her place. Crazy. I could have been caught and lost my job.”
“But the thought of the experience won?”
“Yes. The thought that someone unknown was coming into that room and would make me come and they wouldn’t have a clue who I was.”
He smiled. “Except it was me and I recognized your tattoo.”
I clutched my blouse where my tattoo lay underneath. “I never gave that a thought. That’s how much I had thought it through. An easily identifiable tattoo and I just lay there.”
“You didn’t just lay there.” He said. “You moved against me like we were a violin and bow.”
I moved my legs, making out they were going dead when in fact his words had made me itch to rub my thighs together.
“Then you knew I was a professor at the same business school as you, but you said nothing anyway?”
He shook his head. “When I got a text, the next morning asking if I’d meet you to train you. I had to go. I had to see the woman again who’d exploded against my mouth.
A pathetic half-laugh escaped my mouth. “And I text you because I thought I should try to engage in a relationship with someone around my own age.”
“Age is just a number.” He snapped. “I’m still the same guy you fucked last night. A man, not some little boy, so don’t even think of treating me like one.”
