Page 22 of The Professor's Indecent Obsession

The relief was overwhelming. It still is. No more skipped meals. No more pretending I’m okay when I’m not. Both me and my mom will be taken care of, and I’m so damn grateful to him that I can’t even put it into words.

I stare at him across the table, his hair a little messy, sleeves pushed up, long fingers tapping idly on the edge of his plate.

I smile, and for the first time in months, I feel whole again.

He’s mid-sentence, something about setting up a meeting for me with one of his publishing contacts who owes him a favor, when my phone buzzes on the table between us.

I barely glance at it at first, assuming it’s spam or a university alert I’m still too stubborn to unsubscribe from. But then my eyes catch the name of the sender and the subject line.

I go still. My breath catches so sharply it makes a sound.

“Roman…” I whisper, voice suddenly paper-thin.

His head snaps up. One look at my face, and he’s already leaning across the table, brows pulled tight in concern. “What is it?”

I turn the screen toward him with trembling hands. “It’s an email. From one of the agents I queried forever ago. I thought I’d never hear back. But...”

He scans the email and his eyes widen.

“Holy shit,” he says, grinning like I just dropped the moon into his lap. “Callie, that’s real. She’s one of the biggest in the business. And she wants to represent you.”

I blink at him. “It’s not another scam?”

He laughs, his face shining with joy. “No, baby. That’s as real as it gets.”

The screen blurs as my eyes well up. Again. I press the phone to my chest, shaking my head like I still don’t believe it.

“I didn’t think they’d ever respond.”

Roman reaches for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “They responded because you’re that good. Your book is stunning. You’re stunning.”

I let out a laugh that’s more of a sob. “God, I’m becoming a crier.”

He brings my hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle with exaggerated reverence. “You’ve earned every tear, baby.”

I wipe my eyes, still smiling, still floating somewhere far above the café floor.

He leans back just slightly, gives a little nod toward the server, and like magic, the guy appears.

“We’ll take the check,” Roman says smoothly.

I blink. “Wait, what? I haven’t even finished my...”

He leans close, the air between us suddenly charged. His voice drops to a low murmur. “We’re going home.”

I blink again. “Why?” I ask, even though my heart is already galloping ahead of the answer.

He brushes my hair behind my ear, fingers lingering at the nape of my neck. “Because you just landed a top-tier agent,” he says softly. “And I think the best way to celebrate would be in my bed, with your thighs wrapped around my head, and you screaming my name in ecstasy.”

My whole body flushes. Heat rushes to my cheeks, to my chest, to places lower.

He grins like he feels it, too.

I bite my lip and nod. The bill is paid in less than a minute. And then we’re up, out, hand-in-hand.

The breeze greets us as we step into the sun-drenched street, but all I feel is him.

Roman.

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