He leaned one shoulder against the frame, his black Henley stretched tight across his chest, orange sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and those perfect blue eyes finding me instantly. It felt like the whole room disappeared for a second.
The professor stopped mid-sentence. “Can I help you?”
Matty’s voice was smooth but steady when he answered. “Yeah, sorry to interrupt, but I need to borrow Ophelia.”
My name hit the air like a fire alarm. My head snapped up, heat flooding my face as everyone turned to stare.
The professor frowned. “Class is almost over. Can it wait?”
“No, ma’am,” he said easily, flashing a smile that made my insides twist. “It’s important.”
There was a beat of silence, the kind that stretches just long enough to make your pulse go wild. Then she sighed, defeated. “Fine.”
Matty grinned, boyish and unapologetic, and I watched as my hardened professor literally swooned.
I didn’t blame her…I was swooning, too.
I scrambled to shove my notebook and pen into my bag, my hands shaking as I stood. A few whispers rippled behind me, someone giggled…someone else mutteredholy shit.
I didn’t look back.
Matty stepped aside to let me pass, but the second the door closed behind us, he caught my wrist and pulled me down the short stretch of hallway, out of sight of the windowed door.
“Matty—what are you?—”
He didn’t let me finish.
Before I could take another breath, his mouth was on mine.
Everything stopped. My notebook slipped from my hands, hitting the floor with a dullthud. He pressed my back against the wall, his hands framing my face, his kiss deep and consuming and dizzying. It wasn’t gentle. It was the kind of kiss that said he’d been waiting all morning to taste me again.
My head spun. Every thought, every worry about lunch with the girls, or being good enough dissolved under the weight of him. His tongue brushed mine, and the noise that left my throat didn’t even sound human.
He rested his forehead against mine, his breathing still uneven and hot between us.
“I couldn’t wait a second longer,” he murmured hoarsely, pressing himself against me so I could feel how hard he was. “I left class early and sprinted here, watching from the window and trying to hold myself back.”
He grinned unrepentantly. “As you can see, I lost that battle.”
A thrill ran through me. The image of him, restless and wanting, watching from the window, fighting the same pull that had wrecked me for months…I loved it.
I loved knowing he couldn’t stay away. That whatever this was, it wasn’t just in my head. My hands slid up his chest, feeling the steady hammer of his heart beneath my palms, and I couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop touching him.
“You looked far away in there,” he teased. “What were you thinking about?”
I took a deep breath, summoning the courage to answer honestly. But he’d just revealed how much he missed me, right?So was it alright for me to do it, too? He wouldn’t get scared? “I was thinking about you,” I finally admitted shyly.
A slow grin curved his mouth, the kind that always made my knees go weak. His thumb brushed my jaw. “Good,” he said softly. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you for even a second. At this rate, I’m not even going to graduate unless I figure out a way to focus in class.”
He kissed me again, slower this time, and for a second, everything outside that hallway vanished.
Lunch. Classes. Whispers. None of it mattered.
It was just him. Always him.
I was vaguely aware of doors opening and people coming out into the hallway, but I couldn’t spare them a look. When he was near, it was like no one else existed.
“Let me take you to lunch,” he urged as he pulled back just enough to get the words out.
