Page 49 of His to Teach
Damn it. “Of course not.”
She finally looks up and I feel a stab of guilt and pain at the redness in her eyes and the tears that still cling to her lashes. “Then why are you acting like this? You embarrassed me in front of my colleagues. Kevin even asked me what I did to get on your shit list.”
I groan. “I’m handling everything all wrong.” I try to pull her closer again but she still refuses, her feet planted firmly, and my stomach drops. “Harper?—”
Before I can figure out how to continue that sentence, before I can even begin to think of a way to explain myself, I hear voices in the hallway. It suddenly hits me that we’re standing far too close, practically embracing, my hands on her shoulders—in my classroom.
“Shit,” I mutter, dropping her arms and stepping back. The flash of renewed hurt on her face makes me feel sick.
And I blame that entirely for the next words out of my mouth.
“Come to dinner with me.”
If I thoughtsome privacy would help me figure out how to apologize, I was dead wrong. I follow Harper to her apartment so no one will see her leaving campus in my car. She parks while I wait and then walks over to my passenger side door, her shoulders slumped. Once she’s inside, she doesn’t say a word, merely nodding an assent when I suggest a restaurant in nearby Harrisburg, a good half hour drive from the university, where we hopefully won’t be seen.
It’s the most awkward car ride of my life.
You need to fix this,I tell myself sternly as I lead her into the restaurant, a comfortable little bistro that I hope won’t be crowded this early in the evening. The hostess shows us to a table in a quiet corner. Perfect for talking.
If only I could figure out what to say to her.
A waiter appears at our table, offering wine suggestions, and I wave my hand dismissively, telling him to bring over whatever he prefers.
“I’m very sorry,” I tell her, the minute he’s gone. “I behaved badly.”
She makes a little scoffing noise, not meeting my eyes. And then she says something completely unexpected. “So is this…Was it only a one night thing?”
I stare at her, not understanding what she’s talking about. “Harper.” I lean across the table and place my hand over her fidgeting fingers. “Look at me.” She does, and I’m once again sickened to see that her eyes are swimming with tears. I did that to her. “What are you talking about? What one night thing?”
“Us. Were we just a one night thing?”
Holy shit. She can’t actually believe that, can she? My voice is low when I respond, a dark anger rippling just below the surface. “Why would you ask me that?”
She pulls her hands away from mine and I feel the loss of contact through my entire body. Before I can demand that she continue, the waiter arrives with the wine. It seems like it takes him forever to fill our glasses, and then our water goblets. “Are you ready to order?”
I’m tempted to tell him to get the fuck out of my hair but Harper is looking pale. I’m not sure if that’s a reaction to my behavior or not, but I know she has a tendency to skip meals when she’s busy. I might not be able to take back what happened today, but I can at least make sure she’s properly fed.
“The salmon for me,” I say, glancing briefly down at the menu. “The pasta is good,” I tell her, and she nods, looking like she couldn’t care less.
Once the man is finally gone, I turn to her. “Explain to me what you’re talking about.”
She takes a deep breath. “You’ve barely talked to me all week.” She looks away, fingers moving to her wine glass so she can fidget with the stem. “You won’t even look at me at school and?—”
“I look at you,” I growl. How does she not know this? Doesn’t she see how often my eyes are on her, how I can barely tear my gaze away? Fuck, it’s like she’s the only thing I can see. And it’s been like that for weeks now.
She shakes her head, the first tear slipping down her cheek. Fuck. That lonely tear has my heart in a vise, a heavy anchor weighing down my chest.
“You act like I’m not even there,” she whispers. “You barely acknowledge me in the classroom. You don’t talk to me. I have no idea if you even liked it, if you would want to do it again or if?—”
“Stop.” I put every ounce of authority I can muster into the word, needing to end this stream of nonsense coming out of her mouth, needing to rid her of these thoughts. “I didn’tlikewhat we did together, Harper.” She draws in a shaky breath and I once again reach for her hands, holding them in mine now, tightly, so she can’t get free. “Likeis a bullshit word. It’s far too tepid to ever describe what happened on Friday.”
Her gaze snaps back to my face, eyes wide and surprised. “I fucking loved what happened on Friday. It’s the best night I’ve had in a long, long time.”Maybe ever.“How could you doubt that?”
For the first time she looks frustrated. “What am I supposed to think? You haven’t called me. You haven’t said a word about what happened last weekend?—”
“I haven’t said a word to you about it because if I even let myself think about it in your presence I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from fucking you right there in the classroom.”
Her mouth drops. She’s quiet for a long moment, just staring at me. “Really?” she finally whispers.
