“I know.”
“You wanted to talk?”
Again, I nod. “There’s something you need to know.” I open my mouth to tell him about Dylan, but I hesitate, not knowing where to start.
Sensing how difficult it is for me to find the right words, he takes pity on me. Running a hand through his hair, he looks at the floor and says, “I should probably tell you I’ve handed in my resignation at the University. I’m finishing the semester, but then I’m leaving Beckford. It has nothing to do with what happened between us, at least not directly. I handed my notice in last week, before we… well…”
“Before we had sex,” I offer bluntly, my chesttightening.
“Yes.”
He’s leaving.
Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back, refusing to show weakness. I should be happy he’s leaving. There’s no reason to reopen old wounds and tell him about my history with his son. It won’t change anything. Ethan’s leaving, and whatever happened between us is over. Telling him about Dylan is pointless. I can’t cause trouble between them when I’m probably never going to see them again once Ethan leaves Beckford.
For some reason, the thought sits like a lead balloon in the pit of my stomach.
I don’t want him to leave.
“I should go,” I blurt, springing up from the couch.
“You didn’t tell me?—”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, already moving for the hallway. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Leni—”
“No, it was inappropriate. I’m sorry.”
I hurry towards the front door, cursing mentally when I hear his footsteps following me.
“Please, Ethan… I mean, Coach Rourke. Forget I came here. Forget the assignment I wrote. I’m fine. I’ve dealt with it all. It’s all in the past, and I just want to move on and forget anything ever happened.” My throat chokes on those last words as I realise the double meaning behind them.
Will he think I’m talking about him?
Am I?
Those stolen moments with him in the room at Euphoria were incredible, and I don’t just mean the orgasms. The way he kissed me, touched me, looked at meas if I was the most important person in the world. I won’t ever forget that. I’ll compare every man to him until the end of time.
I can’t let him leave Beckford without letting him know the lasting impact he’s left on me in the past six months.
Before I can think about what I’m doing, I rush back to him, startling him when I fling my arms around his neck. He hesitates for only a moment before wrapping me in his warm embrace, and again, I’m taken aback by how safe I feel in his arms when his son has always been the monster lurking under my bed.
Burying my head against his chest, my voice is muffled when I say, “I don’t want to forget you.”
His voice is strained when he replies, “I could never forget you, little devil.”
I tilt my head to look at him, my racing heartbeat matching his. Our gazes meet, and I see the indecision warring in his.
“You’re leaving,” I whisper.
“We shouldn’t…”
He doesn’t resist when I stand on my tiptoes and pull his head down to graze my lips lightly over his. He draws in a sharp breath, but that’s the only warning I get before my back is against the nearest wall and his tongue is delving into my mouth in an all-consuming kiss that steals my breath away.
There’s nothing gentle about his lips on mine. He pours everything into this kiss, letting me know in no uncertain terms that in this moment, I’m his. His to claim, his to mark, his to cherish.
I give as good as I get, bringing my hands up to cup hisface, loving that there are no masks between us right now. What’s happening in his entryway is all us. It’s real, raw, and unbridled.
