"You're going to be the death of me," he murmurs, his thumb tracing my bottom lip."Do you know that?"
I catch his thumb between my teeth, biting gently.His eyes flash with renewed heat, and I know I'm playing with fire.
"Behave," he warns, but there's no real authority behind it.Not when his pupils are dilated and his breathing has quickened again.
He leans in and kisses me, softer this time, lingering."You okay?"
"More than okay," I breathe, brushing my fingers along his jaw.
A knock on his office door makes us both freeze.We spring apart as if we've been burned, and I can feel the blood drain from my face.
"Just a moment," Gage calls out, never taking his eyes off me.His voice is calm and cool, but his jaw ticks.
I run my hands through my hair again and then reach for the door, quietly unlocking it.
"Thank you for listening to me, Professor.I'm so sorry I took up so much of your time," I say with a shy smile as I head out.
My heart is still pounding as I step into the hallway.
Of course, she's there.The girl who always talks about how hot Gage is, though I can't remember her name.She's leaning against the wall, probably waiting to ask him a question about the lecture.Her eyes narrow slightly when she sees me come out of his office, and a slow, amused smile spreads across her lips.
"You have a lot of meetings with Professor Owens," she says casually.
I force a neutral expression."Just staying on top of the coursework."
"Sure," she says, the word drawn out and full of implication."Must be one hell of a thesis."
I smile tightly and keep walking, but my fingers are already pulling out my phone.My stomach twists with unease as I type out a quick message.
Skye:That girl might suspect something.
A moment later, I hear the faint buzz of Gage's phone inside the office.I don't need to look back to know he's reading it.
We're playing a dangerous game.And someone's starting to notice.
Chapter 26
Gage
Iparkablockawayfrom my sister's house, sitting in the car with the engine idling and my hands locked tight on the steering wheel.I've faced down angry parents, tenure reviews, and grilling from the university board, but nothing winds me up like this.Nothing compares to the nerves eating at my gut right now.
Because this isn't just about my career or reputation.This is about Skye.About Megan.About a past that's never fully let go.
I finally shut the engine off, pocket the keys, and step into the warm afternoon air.Her house is still the same cozy cottage tucked into a quiet street, with ivy crawling over the porch railings, and flower boxes bursting with life.The sound of laughter carries out through the screen door, mixed with the soft hum of an acoustic guitar from her playlist.Megan always liked her music mellow.
When I knock, the door swings open and there she is, barefoot, a spatula in one hand, a knowing smile already curling on her lips.
"Gage," she says, eyes lighting up as she pulls me into a hug.She smells of rosemary and lemon.It’s the scent of her kitchen, and her sanctuary."You look like you're about to confess to a murder.Come in before you scare the neighbors."
"Hey, Megan," I mutter, hugging her back with a tight squeeze.
She ushers me inside.Her husband is stirring something on the stove, and he waves with a friendly grin before turning back to his culinary masterpiece.I nod in return, but Megan's already dragging me toward the living room.
She shoves me onto the couch and flops into the armchair across from me, crossing her legs and studying me with narrowed eyes.
"Okay.Spill."
I take a breath.Then another.And I tell her.Everything.From the moment Skye walked into Club Red and into my classroom.The electricity, the way she pushed past every one of my carefully laid boundaries.How I tried to resist, and how I failed.