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My heart thundered rapidly. I kept my expression stoic even though she wasn’t looking at me, but inside I was pleased, really fucking pleased.
And as much as I wanted to finally take her, claim her as mine, the fact she’d been drinking put the brakes on all of that. I just wanted to take care of her.
Our first time wasn’t going to be laced with alcohol, clouded by intoxication. The first time I took Grace as mine, she was going to be fully with it, completely immersed.
Because I didn’t want just this one moment. I wanted forever.
* * *
I helpedher inside my apartment, shutting the door behind us but keeping my arm wrapped around her waist. She was tipsy and tired, and all I wanted to do was put her in my bed and wrap my body around hers, keeping her close, letting her know that I wouldn’t ever let anything hurt her.
I lead her down the hall and into my room. She sat on the edge of the bed, bracing her hands on the mattress on either side of her. I crouched on my haunches and took off her shoes, letting my hand skim the arch of her foot.
She was so small compared to me, almost fragile.
I glanced up at her to see her watching me, her eyes heavy-lidded, her expression drowsy. I didn’t stop myself from reaching up and brushing a lock of her hair away from her shoulder, letting my fingers move gently along the soft skin of her neck.
She closed her eyes and exhaled, and I forced myself to pull my hand away and stand.
“I’m sorry you have to see me this way,” she whispered, slurred.
I pulled the blanket down and helped her lie in the bed, covering her up and standing there for a moment watching her. Her dark hair was fanned out along the white pillowcase, a stark contrast that had me wanting to reach out and touch her.
Instead I headed toward the door, stopping and looking back at her. I watched the rise and fall of her chest beneath the duvet and looked into her face, which had taken on a relaxed expression as she slipped into sleep.
Tomorrow should be interesting, given the fact I had no intention of hiding how I felt. She needed to know what my intentions were, what I wanted with her.
The real question was, would she be on the same page as me? Would she want the same things I did?
ChapterNine
Grace
It was the feeling of warmth on my face that had me slowly opening my eyes. Everything was blurry for a moment, and I blinked a few times, my vision finally clearing as I stared out the window. The apartment was high up, and I could see buildings off in the distance. I had no doubt traffic was a flurry below, but I heard nothing but the sound of my easy inhalations.
I felt my brows knit, a moment of confusion settling in because I wasn’t sure where I was. But then it all came rushing back.
Professor Goode.
The Olive.
Sitting in his car and admitting things I probably should have kept to myself.
I groaned softly, lifting my hand and rubbing my forehead. I had an awful headache, one that was beating right behind my eyes.
The scent of everything he was washed over me, through me. I actually found myself turning my head more into the pillow, closing my eyes, and inhaling deeply.
Dark and woodsy.
Potent.
Masculine.
Everything Professor Goode was.
I was crazy, lying in his bed, in his apartment, wondering how in the hell I was going to get through this humiliation.
I forced myself to sit up, my feet dangling off the bed, my toes barely touching the cold wooden floor.
