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I didn’t answer. He waved and turned away, sauntering from my office. I stared at the empty spot in my doorway where he’d vanished, chewing on my lip, unsure if I should give him a second chance or not. The man was pleasant enough with a good sense of humor and easy to talk to.
I’d never been good at the dating scene, so he would be an ideal choice of guy to go out with. But he had stood me up. He’d abandoned me in a place where I’d felt completely uncomfortable, and I’d ended up making the worst mistake of my life because of it. I should be totally pissed at him. I never would’ve drunk so much to ease my nerves if he’d asked to meet at a nice restaurant or a boring cocktail bar. And I wouldn’t have let Noel Gamble drive me home if I’d been sober. And I certainly wouldn’t have stuck my tongue down his throat and made out with him on my bed if he hadn’t driven me home.
Holy shit, I could blame this whole thing on Philip, couldn’t I? Perfect. Except no, no, I couldn’t. I was too much one of those masochistic people who got off on taking all the blame for everything that happened in my life. I’d gotten myself in this mess. And I couldn’t pin it on Philip Chaplain, no matter how nice that might tempora
rily feel. The lucky jerk.
But seriously, the idea of going on another date with him just didn’t...thrill me. I’d only been mildly interested the first time around. And now, with all that worry about my father and worry about my job, and worry about Noel Gamble, no way would I be able to concentrate on Philip if we spent any more time together.
“Please don’t tell me that’s the douchebag who stood you up Saturday night? Dr. Chaplain? Really?”
I blinked, realizing I was staring right though a blurry figure standing in my doorway.
His voice hit me first. I knew exactly who’d come to my office before my gaze cleared enough to bring him into sharp, amazing focus.
Seeing him standing in the threshold of my office sent my nerves haywire. Lurching to my feet, I glanced wildly behind him, expecting to see Frenetti charging forward to fire me.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed in way too guilty of a tone.
He stepped inside and shut the door, sending my heart crashing against my ribs in a panic, like a frightened bird desperate to escape its cage. I made a sound of denial in the back of my throat, but that was all I could manage.
“I came to talk about what happened...”
I gasped and crushed my hand to my heaving chest. He wouldn’t dare. Not here. Not about that.
“Between us,” he continued, “on Saturday night.”
Okay, so he dared.
But the worst part was how he looked as he dared. I felt ragged and raw, unsettled to my very core. And he looked utterly amazing. His dark hair remained fashionably messy as if he’d finger-combed it before leaving the house. His blue eyes with that precious hint of lavender were bright and alert, full of vivacity. And his body. Sweet mercy, I was freshly reminded how it had felt against mine, caging me to my bed as his mouth absolutely leveled me.
Rattled by the physical aspect of my attraction and unhinged over the fact he wanted to discuss the worst thing I’d ever done out in the open, in my office, I stared at him through eyes that refused to blink. But my vision went gray around the edges. God, I hoped I didn’t pass out.
Wait, maybe passing out would help me avoid this conversation. Would it be too childish to hold my breath right now?
“What’re your plans then, Mr. Gamble?” I demanded, horrified to realize I couldn’t control how quickly my breathing had picked up. “Blackmail me? Threaten to tell the administration that I came onto you in my drunken state if I don’t give you an A?”
His mouth fell open. “Wow.” He let out a short hard laugh. “But...” Running his fingers through his hair, he barked out another cynical sound. “Wow. You honestly think I’m that big of an asshole, don’t you? I just came here to make sure you were okay.”
Immediately realizing I was wrong by the way his eyes glimmered with—what was that, pain?—I gulped down my shame. No way could he fake such emotion.
Lowering my gaze, I held my breath as the idea of hurting him ripped me open. “I don’t... That’s not... You aren’t...”
“Breathe,” he commanded softly.
Surprisingly, I did, sucking in air, my body unconsciously following his commands and easing the tightness in my muscles that had been there all day. When I looked up, I opened my mouth to apologize for my accusations, but nothing came out.
“So, I’m guessing you’re not,” he said, lifting his eyebrows, “okay, that is.”
“Of course I’m not okay!” I exploded with a harsh whisper before glancing toward the closed door. “I got totally wasted and hit on one of my students.” Flapping my hands to show him just how okay I wasn’t, I hissed, “I’m completely wigging out right now.”
Noel did the worst thing he could possibly do. He cracked a smile. “God, you’re cute when you wig out.”
“Noel!” I screeched, scandalized by how well he was taking this. His blasé attitude only unsettled me more.
“Right.” Turning serious, he nodded and cleared his throat before he blew out a deflated breath. “So, what’re we going to do?”
The way he said “we” stirred up an emotion that almost brought tears to my eyes. I don’t think anyone had ever used that word on me before. Not a parent, or friend, or...anyone. I’d always done everything on my own. Being part of a team, a pair—God, it was what I’d always wanted. But being a part of anything with him was wrong.
