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“God. I swear this is just like the coffee shop.”

“It’s all good, Coffee Shop Girl. But I’m starting to get the sense that I need to keep liquids far, far away from you. Especially hot ones.”

“Yeah.” I laughed. “I’ve always been a bit of a klutz. My mom tells me I was an exhausting child at times, as far as her having to clean everything I spilled.”

“I can only imagine.” He smirked, and I grabbed more napkins as he did. When his hand landed on top of mine, I paused, staring down at where our skin touched then slowly lifting my gaze up to his. Our laughter ceased, fading into a hum.

He brought his gaze up as well, and at first, he was looking me in the eyes, his a cool gray, but then they lowered to my lips. I worked hard to swallow, watching his lips too. I felt the pad of his fingers move, stroking my knuckles. My breath hitched, heart beating like a rapid drumbeat.

“Professor Grant…” I wanted to tell him to kiss me right there, right then, to touch more than just my hand. Hold me. Be with me.

His eyes shifted back up to mine, and as if it’d registered with him where we were and what was happening, he took a look around and quickly pulled his hand away.

“Sorry,” he murmured, picking up a chunk of napkins.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. It’s okay? What the fuck? Why did I just say that?

He wiped up more of the juice, his lips pressed together as he focused on it. I wiped the rest of my area, my heart pounding now and my pulse in my ears.

“Should be good,” he said, rising to a stand.

“Yeah.” I stood and tossed the wet napkins into the trash bin. He tossed his and then went to the chairs to fold them.

“I should probably…” My voice trailed off. I didn’t know what to say or how to say it. A part of me wanted to linger, see if we’d accidentally touch again, but the moral part told me it wasn’t a good idea, especially for him.

“Don’t let me hold you up. I’m sure you have a lot of studying to do.” A warm smile spread across his lips. “Have a good night, Zara. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes,” I said, picking up my tote bag. “Tomorrow.”

I scurried out of the library, but not without glancing over my shoulder. I could see him folding the chairs and stacking them in a corner. His head turned and his eyes found mine, but I looked away quickly, butterflies fluttering in my belly.

Oh. My. God. What even was that?

5

Cole

I had no idea what the hell to make of what’d just happened between Zara and me, but there was a spark—a connection—and damn, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. There’d been a connection ever since I ran into her at the coffee shop; I just hadn’t wanted to admit it. Not until now.

What I did in the library? What the fuck was I thinking? Yeah, it was just a touch of hands, but that was enough to prove exactly what I was feeling. Every internalized thought I’d tried to bury came out as I ran my thumb over her knuckles, as I drank in her sweet brown eyes.

And the look in her eyes when ours connected screamed exactly what she was feeling too. I wasn’t alone in this. She wanted me just as much as I wanted her.

Ever since the day she stormed into my life, causing warm tea to spill all over me, it’d been impossible to forget her. I didn’t know why. There was just something about her. She seemed so innocent, shielded and…untouched.

Though I knew it was wrong, I wanted to know so much more about her—steal that innocence away, touch her with my primal hands, and make her mine.

But I couldn’t because she was my student and there was a strict university policy when it came to fraternization. I loved my job and had worked way too hard to get to where I was. I had striven for this position, networked, and wine-and-dined people for it. Many deemed me the best English professor at the school.

I couldn’t let that all go to waste over my lust for a student.

I had to keep these feelings for Zara at bay, but how the fuck was I going to do that when I had to see her every single day?

6

Zara

I couldn’t get Professor Grant off my mind. I woke up thinking about the way he looked at me, how soft the skin on his hands was.

I was glad my dorm-mate didn’t spend much time in the dorm. She hung out with some friends in their apartment pretty much every night, so while she was away at night, I…did things. Things like touch myself, caress my own legs, massage my breasts, gently plucking my nipples. I forced myself to come while imagining my professor was doing all of those things to my body.

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