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“Then what—”
Without warning, I grasp her wrist and spin her around, pressing her up against the wall, and getting right up in her face. “I’m in love with you.” It just blurts past my lips. Shit. I didn’t mean to do that or say that, but it’s too late to take it back now.
Do I even want to take it back?
I’m tired of it all being a lie. A lie that’s chipping away at me piece by piece. A lie I don’t know how to continue because I don’t want to continue it. In public, we’re nothing to each other but teacher and student. In private, we can’t stay away or keep our hands to ourselves.
I want to hold her hand in public without fear. I want to lean in and kiss her lips simply because I can. I want to tell her I love her without fear that she’ll bolt on me because loving me isn’t what she wants.
It’s too much. All of it. I’m in love with her, and she’s not mine.
Layla’s eyes widen, her eyebrows shooting to her hairline, and her lips part in an audible gasp.
“Callan—”
My name ends on a sharp sound and that’s it. Her blue eyes hold mine, glimmering against the small sliver of moonlight that’s leaking in from the far window, locked in indecision. I wait, my heart painfully thrashing against my rib cage. The words are there between us, only I feel no levity in setting them free.
“Say something,” I clip out, finally reaching my breaking point. “Tell me to fuck off. Slap my face for being a dick and telling you that even though I promised I’d keep this casual. Anything, Layla, just don’t stand here in silence staring at me like I’m the Antichrist of your life. I know I shouldn’t have blurted that out, but fuck, I didn’t know how not to.”
A tear glides down her face and she hastily reaches up, swiping the offender away. She stares out into the hallway behind me, her gaze flicking restlessly. “You’re doing this here? Now?”
She’s angry and I get that.
“I didn’t exactly plan it.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
I laugh. It’s a little bitter because that’s bullshit. “Layla, in the time that you’ve known me, when have I ever done or said anything I wasn’t one hundred percent sure about?”
She swallows audibly and turns her head away, avoiding my eyes.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t expect you to say it back or come even remotely close to feeling the same way. But goddammit, Layla, I know you feelsomethingtoo. No one has what we have and doesn’t feel this.” My hand slams into the wall beside her head when she doesn’t respond, or look at me, or even fucking acknowledge my words. “Don’t do this. Don’t check out on me. Not again. Talk to me. That’s what we do. Even if it’s in anger or hate or whatever.”
“You love me?” Another tear tracks down her cheek, only this time it’s my hand that’s there to wipe it away.
I turn her face in my hands, hovering above her, gazing directly at her, letting her see every piece of my heart that belongs to her. “So fucking much. I’m tired of trying to hide it, and I’m tired of trying to pretend, and I’m tired of not telling you how you’ve become my world. I didn’t exactly realize to what extent my feelings went until last night, but once I did, there was no more fooling myself.”
Her head falls back against the wall, and her eyes close as she releases a long, slow breath. My insides quicken, and I clench and unclench my fists, antsy and unable to stand still.
I release her and start to pace again, moving around in jerky circles in the small confines of the hall.
“Layla—”
All she does is shake her head, her eyes still closed, refusing to look at me.
“Dammit, don’t do this,” I repeat, rounding on her.
Her eyes spring open, blue fire and burning hot. “I need five minutes, Callan. Five minutes to think. You never give me time to think. You never give me space to fucking think!” she blasts, pushing at my chest and forcing me back a step.
She might have a point about that. I crowd her. I don’t know how not to. Even when I think I’m giving her room to breathe around me, I’m not. I don’t do indifference well.
The air conditioner clicks on, the vent directly above her, making her shiver. I peel off the T-shirt I threw on when I got up and drop it over her head since she’s not wearing anything other than her underwear. She slips her hands through the sleeves and huddles into it as she closes her eyes once more.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, moving like a shooting star across the hardwood because I’m unable to stand still. “I know I shouldn’t have blurted it out. It’s not fair to you, and I know that. I also know this could mean you’ll run out on me. But I can’t help it. I love you and I need you and I can’t go another day without you knowing that. You are the air I breathe and the ground beneath my feet holding me steady. Without you, I am lifeless and unbound. Without you, I am lost.”
“I can’t think with you saying this to me,” she sobs, covering her face with her hands.
“Then stop thinking!” I boom. “What is there to even think about? I love you,” I growl because she’s so fucking stubborn it makes me want to shake some sense into her. Doesn’t she see what’s right in front of her? All that we can have if she just allows herself to try? “You don’t have to love me back. But think about us, Layla. Us!”
