Page 12 of Stolen Moments

“Still professional in public?” he murmurs, a lazy smile in his voice.

I laugh breathlessly and pull him down for another kiss.

“Absolutely. But right now… we’re very off the clock.”

Chapter 4

Jackson

Having a secret relationship with Priya Sharma is the most exhilarating and frustrating thing I’ve ever done.

In public, she’s still the uptight TA who corrects my Chemistry homework with brutal honesty. Still the anatomy student who maintains professional distance during our sessions. Still the pre-med perfectionist who doesn’t have time for anything that’s not academic.

In private, she’s something else entirely.

We’ve been doing this for two weeks, sneaking moments between her clinical rotations and my practices, stealing kisses in my studio, learning each other in ways that have nothing to do with molecular orbitals or muscular systems.

Right now, we’re supposed to be studying. There’s a Chemistry exam next week that I actually need to pass, and Priya’s spread textbooks across my studio table with that determined expression that means she’s taking this seriously.

I’m sitting on my work stool, watching her explain electron configuration, and thinking about how she looks with her hair down.

“Are you listening?” she asks without looking up.

“Absolutely.”

“What did I just say?”

“Something about electrons filling orbitals in order of increasing energy.”

She glances up, surprised. “Actually, yes. You were listening.”

“I can multitask. Listen to you and think about how much I want to do other things.”

“Jackson, we’re studying.”

“We’ve been studying for an hour. I think we’ve earned a break.”

“We’ve not earned a break. You have an exam⁠—”

I stand up, walk around the table, and spin her chair to face me.

“Jackson—”

I kiss her, cutting off whatever responsible thing she was about to say. She resists for about half a second before melting into it, her hands coming up to grip my shirt.

“This is not studying,” she murmurs against my lips.

“This is better than studying.”

“You’re going to fail Chemistry.”

“Worth it.”

She laughs, and god, I love that sound. She doesn’t laugh enough. Takes everything too seriously. But with me, in this studio, she lets go. Lets herself be messy and imperfect and beautifully human.

“Five minutes,” she says. “We can take a five-minute break.”

“I can do a lot in five minutes.”