“Do you have a dead body in there?” I asked.
Sebastian breathed out a laugh and scratched the back of his head. “This is my study.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “So, what you’re telling me is…thereisa dead body in there that you experiment on? Like Doctor Frankenstein?”
He closed his eyes a moment and sighed. I couldn’t tell if he was nervous, amused, or irritated. My smile widened.
I expected his study to look a lot like the rest of the house, not much on the walls and a desk covered in papers. When I stepped inside, though, I was taken aback.
Paintings covered the walls, some of the sky and others of melted clocks. There were also old medical photos of skull diagrams, which were pretty cool. Very Frankenstein of him. I stepped farther into the room, finding a bookshelf overflowing with leather-bound books that looked older than me, knick-knacks, and a spinning globe. And so many clocks, ranging in size.
The desk sat in front of the window, organized but in a slightly chaotic way. The papers on his desk, rather than jutting out all crazy like I imagined a mad scientist’s would, were stacked in one corner, with a computer on the other side, and a mantel clock in the center.
It was like Sebastian locked all of his personality and things he loved into one room, hiding from everyone, maybe even himself.
I felt like he had not only let me into his study, a place full of things he treasured, but into his world, as well.
I reached for his hand.
Though hesitantly, he accepted my touch and entwined our fingers. “What do you think?”
“Hmm.” I scrunched up my nose and glanced around. “I think you need to bring some of this personality into the rest of your house.”
“This is mostly where I stay,” he said, releasing my hand and walking over to his desk. “I come home and read or continue my research.”
“No wonder you always look so tired.” I walked over to the bookshelf and touched the globe, spinning it. I looked back at him. “Crap. Is it okay if I touch that? I didn’t even ask. I’m sorry.”
“It’s quite all right,” he answered, a strange look in his eyes. “Normally, it bothers me when people touch my things, but with you…”
He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he dropped his gaze to the desk and straightened up the stack of papers that didn’t need straightening.
“Know what I think, Doctor?”
“What is that, Mr. Miller?” His tone was indifferent, but his lips twitched, as if he were trying to suppress a smile.
He said my last name on purpose now, much like me calling him ‘Doctor,’ so it no longer bothered me.
“When you’re running on empty, you won’t get very far,” I said, approaching him. “Take one day a week to refuel. No working. Like zero. Nada. It will help you be more efficient when you get back to work the next day. More mental clarity and stuff to help you focus.”
“You’re not the first person who’s told me that.”
“Maybe you should listen, then.”
I couldn’t fight it anymore. I had to touch him. I walked around the desk until I was in front of him and smoothed my hand along his jaw.
He leaned into my touch, briefly closing his eyes and parting his lips. Lips I then claimed.
The kiss awoke the butterflies in my stomach.
I had kissed a lot of guys, but none of them had made me feel even half of what Sebastian did. And it wasn’t because of the taboo aspect of our relationship, either. He might be my college professor, but our connection went deeper than the excitement of doing something you weren’t supposed to.
Forbidden or not, kissing him felt right.
***
Tristen was being an asshole Monday morning. We were at PT doing snakes, which involved running up the bleacher steps, zigzagging along a row, and running down the steps before doing it all over again. He didn’t talk to me. Hardly even looked at me.
“Yo.” Marcus bumped my arm during the first break. “What’s T’s problem?”