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I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter.”
“How long ago?” It was like he needed to know, like it did matter. “Brielle?”
“Not long.” I wished it had been longer. “I moved for a fresh start. He’s a public figure, and technically, I’m not supposed to talk about this. I signed an NDA.”
“An NDA?” His laughter was thick and throaty before he forced down more coffee. “How much of a fucking coward could this guy be? What’s his name?”
“I told you. I’m not supposed to talk about it. This is a breech, me even talking about it now.”
Why the fuck had I talked about it?
Goddamn it.
I started to get up, but he grabbed my wrist. I shook it off. “No, Ramses. I have to go.”
“Why?” He got up too. “Bri—”
“I tell you too many things,” I shot out, definitely getting others’ attention if they’d been there. Fortunately for us, there was just the donut shop owner, and he must have been in the back somewhere since I didn’t see him. I faced him. “I talk to you about things, and I’m not myself. I don’t trust who I am with you.”
“You don’t think I feel the same way?” he asked, angling himself in front of me. It wasn’t hard to do. He towered over me, an unyielding force of male and body. His lips pinched tight. “You don’t think I tell you shit I don’t want to say? That it’s not driving me freaking crazy?” He forced his hand through his thick curls. “If anything, that’s why we should be friends.”
“Friends?” I frowned, shaking my head. “Ramses, I cannot be friends with you.” Like I said, I didn’t trust myself around him, not at all. I was like a walking drunk with him in the air surrounding me. I squeezed my arms. “We’d be horrible friends.”
Besides wanting to fuck each other every moment of the day, we did tell each other a lot of personal shit. I broke an NDA because of him.
I started to walk off, but he grabbed my arm again.
“Just hear me out,” he said, quick and in front of me. “We talk to each other. Vent to each other instead of letting that shit bottle up.”
“And what? We just pretend we didn’t screw?”
I was suddenly incredibly aware of how quiet the donut shop was, and that old man behind the counter did make himself known.
He wiped it down with a small smile before lifting his finger and heading to the back, and Ramses and I surprisingly both busted out laughing. Like full-blown laughter to the point where I grabbed my knees and Ramses shook his head.
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about Charlie. He’s known me since I was a kid, but he’s old reliable. He won’t say anything to my mom.”
I hadn’t even thought about that, but trusted Charlie if he did.
The laughter dying down, Ramses braced his arms.
“My own mother said I need to talk to someone,” he admitted. “She obviously said the same thing to you, and I can’t see why we can’t be that for each other.”
I could, the first starting with said sex mentioned before. “And the screwing?”
“Well, I’m not your student anymore. Won’t be soon once I get the transfer.”
“Ramses—”
He grabbed my hand, cutting me off, and I let him hold it because I was selfish. Because I wanted him to so desperately I could taste it.
I think he did too, his long digits playing with the back of my hand. Eventually, he let go, and when he did, he took a step back.
“I’m joking obviously,” he said when it wasn’t obvious, not at all. He forced a heavy breath. “It’s also obvious that’s not what you want our relationship to be, and I respect that, but I am selfish enough to ask for your friendship. I think it would be good. For both of us. And like I said, I’m not going be your student once I transfer out. It won’t be weird.”
It would still be weird.
But I was selfish too.
