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“This is my house,” he points out, not moving from his space in the open doorway where the light from the room behind him casts his face in unreadable shadows.
“But this is Cove’s room,” I counter with a brow raised in amusement.
This isn’t the first time the professor and I have been on this balcony alone together. I’m taken back to the night Bhodi decided we should get drunk to distract me from my cravings and the professor getting mad when he discovered us. He dragged me up here then and we shared a moment when he confided in me how hard it was to stand by and watch his brothers with the girl he wanted but couldn’t have.
Me.
“Is it hard?”
“Excruciating.”
“Why not just give in?”
“I’ve been trying to be a better man.”
“Don’t you worry that you might…snap?”
“All the time.”
“Doesn’t it leave you on edge?”
“Constantly.”
“Is it worth it? The not giving in?”
“No. It isn’t.”
I need to kiss him like I need air to breathe.
I’m so lost in the memory that I almost miss his lowly spoken reply, “I’m enjoying the view.”
“What? Of a load of pissed up teenagers frolicking on the beach?” I laugh to hide the desire in my voice. It’s so obvious, even to my ears. How can he miss it?
“Who uses frolicking alongside pissed up?”he muses.
I love it when he drops his mental barriers and communicates with me like this. It makes me feel close to him, like there’s a bond between us that the others aren’t quite privy to.
“Me. Apparently.” I flush but I’m hoping he can’t see it.
“Why are you blushing, Miss Van der Zee?”
Fuck, when he says my name like that…but damn him too! Just because I can’t see his face doesn’t mean he can’t see mine. I’m sure my gentle blush which might have been attributed to the heat of the bonfire is now a raging ruby which I can’t hide.
“I’m guessing you’re not one for parties?” I ask to distract him.
“Not ones with quite so many teenagers.”
“You don’t like teenagers.” It’s not a question. Every day I sat in his lecture hall, the disdain for his students was dripping from his every word. God forbid the poor fool who dares to ask a question of him. When we first met, I wondered why he would go into teaching, so it didn’t really come as a massive surprise when I learnt that he isn’t really a teacher.
He’s not reallymyteacher. You could act on this…pull…between the two of you if you were brave enough. Stop letting him run away and finally give in.
“I can tolerate one or two,” he surprises me by replying as he steps out onto the balcony and comes to stand right beside me. If I thought the flames from the bonfire were imposing, it’s nothing compared to the heat emanating from the professor. “One in particular I’m inexplicably drawn to.”
I bite my lip as butterflies explode into flight within my stomach and my breath catches. I keep my gaze trained on the mesmerising flames of the bonfire but with every flicker the temperature on the balcony rises by several degrees. I can feel the warmth of the professor’s body as if his skin were pressed right against mine, but when I glance down at the railing we’re both white-knuckling I see a perfectly respectable twelve inches between us.
It might as well be an entire ocean, or the tiniest sliver of silk. We’re worlds apart yet inextricably entwined. It’s thrilling and excruciating. So near and yet so far.
The professor shifts. The heat rises. And suddenly those twelve inches are six. I should look away. Never have six tiny little inches ever looked so threatening. So dangerous.
