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He nods and taps his lips. “I get it. No matter what, you get tarred with the professor-who-slept-with-her-student brush, whereas I get to be the undergrad who got into bed with his hot professor. It frustrates the hell out of me that if our roles were reversed, it would be the student everyone tried to blame.”
“Society is full of double standards, and I don’t know that they’re ever going to disappear.”
“I shouldn’t have asked you to come to the game.” He drops his head, shaking it slowly. “That was stupid on my part, and I put you in an impossible position.”
I take a step closer and put my hand on his chest. “I wanted to be there to support you.”
“It put you at risk, and that’s not what Iwant.” He covers my hand with his and brings it to his lips, kissing the tips of my fingers.
“It was a calculated risk. Gabriel showing up was unexpected. How are things with your parents?”
He smiles wryly. “My mom asked if I was a paid escort.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Her head goes to weird places.” He rolls his eyes. “They had questions, and I told them the truth, that we were seeing each other, that I wasn’t your student anymore when we got involved, and that you’re in the middle of a divorce and your ex is a problem because he’s refusing to let you go.”
“Were they upset about your involvement with me?”
“They don’t know you. My dad’s most worried about Gabriel and whether he’s unstable. He wanted to file a report, but I told them I wouldn’t put you in that situation.” He pokes at his bottom lip with his tongue. “Mostly I was worried you were going to call it quits on us because it’s becoming too risky for you . . .” He swallows. “I would understand that, even if it’s the opposite of what I want.”
“It’s not what I want either,” I say softly.
“Okay.” He blows out a breath. “Good. That’s good.” His eyes dart around before landing on me again. He strokes my cheek, and his voice is soft and slightly pained when he whispers. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose this.”
“I feel the same way.” My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest as I prepare to be completely honest.
“I need to tell you something,” we say at the same time.
He grins, and so do I. “You can go first.” I squeeze his hand.
“I was about to say,ladiesfirst.” He gives me a chagrined smile, then nods like he’s psyching himself up. “I know things are kind of up in the air as to where I’m going to be after contract talks, and that you have plans of your own, but the way I feel about you . . .” He stops, shakes his head, and clears his throat. “This is—this doesn’t feel temporary. Not for me, anyway.”
I take a step closer, until our toes touch. “It doesn’t feel temporary to me either.”
“No?” Hope and fear swim behind his eyes.
I shake my head. “Not temporary at all.”
“You feel permanent. Like you’re inside my heart and my soul, and I want to keep that. This is the most grounded I’ve ever felt in my life.” He raises a hand, as if he’s expecting me to interrupt. “I know that’s twenty-five-ish percent shorter than yours, but that doesn’t negate this feeling. I’m in love with you. And I know the odds don’t seem stacked in our favor, but I still want this. You. Us. I don’t want to put an end date on you and me.”
“I don’t want that either.” I smile softly up at him. “And as much as I tried to fight against it, my heart took the reins. I love you too.”
His eyes flare, as if my response is unexpected. “Yeah?”
I nod.
“So once the semester is over, no more hiding?”
“No more hiding.”
“I can take you on dates whenever and wherever? Call you my girlfriend in public? Hold your hand?” He gives me a lopsided, dimpled grin.
I mirror his smile. “We can do all of those things.”
“I can embarrass you with public displays of affection?” He bites my knuckle and tugs me forward, wrapping his arm around my waist.
“I don’t know about these embarrassing PDAs.”
