Page 27 of Too Hostile
“Because you pity me and my sad as hell story?” This question was harder for him to ask me. I can tell by the nervous look on his face, like he’s afraid that’s actually why I kissed him.
I reach one hand up, brushing it over his cheek before I cup his face in my hand and look him dead in the eyes. “No,” I say firmly.
He looks relieved, and it breaks my heart. “Then why?”
“You know why, Fletcher.” I’m still holding onto his wrist. His finger is resting between my pecs. “I’m a professor, and you’re a student. Summer loophole or not.”
“But it is summer, and I’m not a student. I’m not your student.” He sounds as frustrated as I feel, and goddammit, I want to give in. He’s technically right, I know that.
“Have you seen the news lately?”
He huffs at that and pulls out of my grip. I let his hand go, but he doesn’t move away from me other than that. “What, that professor who was fucking her student?”
I nod. So he has heard. “Yes.”
“Of course I’ve seen it. It’s literally everywhere.”
He’s not wrong. Every time you turn on the television, it seems like this story is running, and our university is on blast. “Then how do you not understand that we cannot do this?”
He looks truly perplexed now as he looks at me. “Because it’s not the same thing.”
“It is,” I argue. “At it’s very basic roots, it is, and you know it.”
“Look, Professor,” He starts, his tone having a very distinctive edge to it. “That was different. For one, she was twice his age.”
“I’m still much older than you.”
He scoffs at that. “Only eight damn years. Seven and a half, actually. That’s nothing. Eighteen is fully damn grown when you grow up the way I did.” I flinch at that but let him continue. “I know you see me as an immature fuckup?—”
“I don’t.” I feel the need to interrupt him, to correct him immediately, because the truth is maybe I did see him that way before, but I don’t now.
“Good. Because I’m not,” he says very clearly. “That kid...” I know he’s talking about the student on the news. “He is. I’ve seen interviews with him. It’s like nothing bad has ever happened to him his entire life, probably hadn’t.”
“What does that matter?” I try.
“Because I’m sure that was traumatic for him. He’s out on his own. His hot college professor, who’s twice his age, seduces him and then tosses him away like that? Of course he’s fucked up from it.”
“I have nothing to offer you, Fletcher. That would be us. You’re out on your own now, and I’m a professor.”
He holds up a hand to silence me, and damn it, it works. I’m quiet as I listen to him. He holds up one finger. “One, it’s not my first time on my own, not by a long shot. I was on my own for most of my childhood, and it forced me to grow up really damn fast.” I don’t bother opening my mouth again when he holds up a second finger. “Two, you didn’t seduce me. I’ve read and listened to the interviews, she seduced the hell out of him. She manipulated him and used her power when he first resisted to get what she wanted.”
“Exactly. That’s the problem with professor/student relationships, Fletcher. No one in a position of power should ever start a relationship with someone who is so vulnerable.”
He steps into me, his mouth so damn close, I’m transfixed, even before his lips start moving as he talks. “And who exactly has the power here? Huh?” He doesn’t let me try to answer. “He was still in her class when they started fucking, and he was struggling. Even she admits that. She held grades over his head. He was here on a scholarship, and he needed that damn grade. I understand why that was wrong, but you and me?” He motions between the small amount of space between our bodies. “No power struggle whatsoever.”
“Fletcher,” I breathe, hating how much sense he’s making, but it has to be because he’s standing so close and making me so damn horny, I can barely think. His erection brushes against mine, and I groan softly, wanting to give in so damn bad.
“Ronan, it’s not the same,” he says, using my name. There’s no hint of teasing, and I hear the desperate plea in his voice. The same desperation I feel to not have to follow the rules just once. “I’m not in your class. I don’t plan to be in your class ever again, but even when I was, I was the top of my class. I didn’t need a bump up, and I’m not on a scholarship. Hell, if anything happened, and I was in danger of getting kicked out of school, I really wouldn’t put it past my mom to buy the whole place just to keep me here.” I let a surprised laugh slip from my mouth, and he looks momentarily surprised as well by my laughter, but grins. “She’s not that rich, but her dad is, and you know when he kicks it, it’s all going to her.”
“Jesus, Fletcher.” I laugh again.
He wraps a hand around the back of my neck, pulling me into him, but he doesn’t kiss me. His forehead rests against mine. “It’s not the same thing.”
“I can’t lose my job, Fletcher.” My throat is raw with the honesty. “It’s everything to me. I worked hard to get here.”
“You won’t,” he whispers, and damn it, in that moment, I believe him. I believe it could all be okay. “Take a shower with me.”
All I can do is nod in agreement. There’s no denying how badly we both want this, and even if I regret it later, I’m going to let myself have it.