“Syd’s helping me get all my notes together so I can—hopefully—spend all my time not in class, writing.”
There was a momentary look of something that resembled…hurt? on Corrine’s face and then she bloomed into a warm smile (I doubt there was any other kind of smile for Corrine). “Well, that’s wonderful. And exactly what you need, Billy, so you can finish that book. Everybody’s so anxious to read it, and I’ll be at the front of the line at the bookstore.” She clasped her hands together, as if she couldn’t contain her glee at the thought.
My eyes were on Montrose and, though it was slight and Corrine probably wouldn’t notice, his body tensed at her words. The black sweater, which I’d had my hands under only moments ago, seemed to pull tighter across his shoulders.
I wasn’t sure if it was Corrine assuming that Billy was close to finishing his novel (when I’d just spent three weeks sifting through the evidence that it hadn’t even been started), or the crazy anticipation of Corrine, and really, the entire literary world and reading public.
Most likely both, and it was a wonder Corrine didn’t pick up on Montrose’s lack of enthusiasm as she rambled on about how excited she was to read it, and how certain she was that it would be brilliant.
All lovely sentiments, and though Montrose had a friendly smile on his face for Corrine, even from where I sat I could see his eyes turn that dark and stormy grey that, if I’d been the captain of a boat and saw seas that stormy, I’d turn back and head for safer harbor.
She was about to go even deeper about her love forFolly, when Montrose stepped away from the credenza, tossed his coat on the empty chair (Corrine apparently quickly becoming a boner-killer), and cut her off, by motioning to the neatly stacked piles behind him.
“Yes. You can see how helpful Syd has been already, and all this was just over break.”
She turned to me, the smile firmly on her face, as if she knew what a pleasure it must have been for me to dig around in Montrose’s notes.
She was correct on that count.
“And, I guess I better get ready for Monday’s classes,” he said, moving to the bookcase in the corner and pulling a binder off the shelf.
“Yes, of course,” Corrine said, moving to the door. “It’s nice to have you back, Billy.”
“It’s good to be back,” he said, but he was looking at me when he said it. Then he turned more fully to Corrine and said, “And it’s really good to see you again, too, Corrine.” There was genuine warmth in his voice and Corrine notice it too, because a cute little blush covered her cherubic face.
“Let me know if you need anything—supplies, or that kind of thing,” she said to me, then with a wave she was out the door.
Slowly, he stalked the small room toward me, locking the door, and throwing the binder on the chair, it landing on top of his coat.
He came around the side of the desk. “Now,” he said as he placed one hand on the arm of my chair, the other on the desk, pinning me in, “where were we?”
Chapter13
We kissed.And kissed. And kissed some more. We moved from me sitting in my chair, to us both standing, to us both sitting on the couch, kissing the whole time.
But, much to my frustration (and, okay, maybe a little relief) all we did was kiss. No more groping for clothes, no more pulling shirts free of jeans.
It seemed like the kisses and groping before Corrine interrupted had taken the frenzied edge off and we were now able to relax and just enjoy…many, many, kisses.
I hadn’t been with a guy who just wanted to kiss like that for a long time. Okay, never. It was both refreshing and frustrating.
Yeah, really frustrating.
But I followed his lead, and he never once moved again to remove any of my clothes, or even stick a hand under my fleece, though his hands did tend to gravitate to my ass most of the time.
After at least an hour, (seriously, it had to be over an hour!) he broke away, placing his forehead against mine.
“I’ve got to go,” he whispered.
I pulled back, surprised. I guess I’d assumed if he had come back on Saturday it was so we— No. I couldn’t think like that, I couldn’t read anything in to his actions—or inactions—toward me.
He had to make the rules, because he was worried enough about breaking them by just being with me—his employee and a student. “I’m sorry, but I have to go to a thing for the department. Just drinks, but now that Corrine saw me, I can’t use the excuse that I hadn’t come back in time to go.”
“No. Sure. Of course you can’t.” I tried to hide my disappointment from him, but I was happy to see a smidge of the same feeling on him by the way he eyed my mouth and then let out a long sigh as he rose from the couch.
I packed up and walked out with him, ready to call it a day. I didn’t want to be in the office anymore without Montrose. Hell, after making out on the couch (and desk) with him, I probably wouldn’t ever want to be in there without him again.
It was dark when we left Snyder Hall, and the snow was falling. Not big, fluffy flakes that would land gracefully on my eyelashes and cheek, causing Montrose to want to gently brush them away as he gazed at me.
