The worry in her tone speaks to years of asking these same questions, of deep-seated concern for her aging parent. If I weren’t already walking on eggshells, I’d ask more about her mom and what happened to her. Aging parents are not something I can relate to. My parents are fine, but I feel a fondness for her dad and my idol, which makes me walk the line between caring and compassion.
“Men, like your father, who have charted their own course, created a blueprint when there wasn’t one, tend not to be fond of hanging it all up and being told what to do, especially by their children. But you probably already know that.”
She hums in acknowledgment, letting several long seconds go by before sighing again.
“I’m a terrible caregiver. I’m finally hitting my stride. I had so much hope for this new semester to live up to the long shadow my father’s legacy casts, but then, his surprise visit, his fall, you and whatever this is, and then my accident. It’s all getting away from me. My carefully laid plans are going sideways, and I’m overwhelmed despite my brave front.”
I chuckle.
“Brave front, how about scathing?”
She huffs, not quite a laugh but a humorless noise of agreement.
“Maybe you don’t. Maybe you don’t control everything, and let this play out with him. And Isabella, you don’t have to live in the shadows. You are a good professor on your own. Tough, smart, and sexy as fuck. Me and you, well, that’s a different story entirely.”
I’m not sure I like being lumped in as a problem in her life, but I understand how this must all feel. My life is uncomplicated, thinking only of me and this one class. The rest is a fucking blowoff. But her, yeah, it’s definitely complicated, and she has a lot more to lose.
“Maybe you’re right.”
She turns in my arms, her expression holding so much emotion, opposite the cold robot professor in class.
“But it’s hard not to try and control everything when the alternative seems so unpredictable.”
“Trust takes time. Countless steps in the dark before you see the flicker of light.”
I pause, my pulse racing, hoping to say all the right things to her. I’m trying not to fuck it all up.
“And sometimes, the person you trust most is yourself. The instincts and intuition you’ve developed over the years are a part of your ability to remain stoic. But isn’t it exhausting? Aren’t you tired of it? Maybe it’s time to let go of the need for control, step out of the cold shadow and into the warm sun, embracing the chaos, Iz.”
I’m a fucking poet now.
Unbelievable.
My hand captures her chin, loving how delicate and fragile her jaw feels under my fingertips. She is as feminine as they come, and her delicate bone structure is a huge turn-on. That and those fucking lips. My thumb drags across them, wanting to feel them everywhere.
“Sometimes the most beautiful moments come from the unexpected twists and turns life throws at us.”
She considers my words until a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips.
“I am exhausted from having to orchestrate every detail. It’s why I ride. I want to shed my responsibilities and just be free. Free from everything. And why I sometimes ride wild, racing you across the tracks.”
I lick my lips and return her smile despite her giving me a near fucking heart attack. If we ride together after she gets her bike fixed, I’ll make sure she never fucking does that again.
“You did.”
“But that’s when I feel most exhilarated and alive. Is that stupid? To be so calculating in all areas of my life and then live with wild abandonment in one area.”
She’s hit the nail on the head. It’s why I ride and why Dom does too. An escape. We all need a break from life’s burdens and the weight of our responsibilities, even if ours is lighter than hers. Maybe that’s what she sees in me.
Fun, freedom, and abandonment.
“Not at all. I understand far more than you realize.”
Content with my answer, her hands slip up the panels of my jacket, wrapping around my neck and bringing my lips to hers.
Kokami.
I grip the back of her head, weaving my hand into her silky strands to lock her in place. I plan to eat her inside out. After a long day of teaching, she tastes sweet and minty.
