I nearly stop walking.
The sullen fury in his eyes is enough to melt my bones.
But somehow I manage to keep going. In a flash, Fyre’s face clears. Gone is the rage. An almost mischievous light flickers there now, and I realize he’s going to do something…but I realize it too late.
Fyre snakes out an arm, catching me around my midriff, and brings me to a dead halt beside him.
“I thought I recognized you,” he murmurs, his deep voice turning into a low rumble.
His steely grip has me squirming internally. I never thought he was this strong. I glance down at the arm wrapped around my middle, trying to imagine it without the dark blazer he’s wearing. My pussy starts tingling.
Professor Fyre draws me closer.
My eyes fly back to his, and I swallow hard, my phone forgotten in my hand. It’s not even pressed to my ear anymore.
He’s going to kiss me.
I don’t know how I know, but I just do. Why else would he be drawing me close, scanning my face, bringing our mouths near to—
Someone walks past me, bumping my shoulder as they squeeze past.
That’s why.
Because I’m in the goddamn way.
“Sorry,” he says in that quiet voice of his, but it’s a lie. He’s not sorry. Someone else pushes past me, and they’re not as polite as the one before. They jar me so hard, my phone slips out of my hand and skitters over the floor.
Fyre’s brow furrows. “Charlotte…are you okay?”
It’s because I’m so close to him. It’s because he says my name like that—deep and throaty. It’s because just last night, I fell asleep minutes after climaxing to the thought of him eating me out.
Wetness pools in my underwear.
I gasp, utter mortification staining my cheeks. I’m wearing a denim skirt and knee-high boots today, so all that’s standing between me and the whole world knowing how wet this man makes me is a tiny slip of fabric—which is already soaking wet.
Twisting out of his grip, I charge out the diner’s entrance, not caring who I knock into the way out. He calls my name, but I don’t turn back.
I can’t.
I will drop dead from embarrassment if I ever see him again.
Chapter Four
I’m a liar. I said I’d drop dead if I ever saw Professor Fyre again? Well, I don’t. Even though I’m still in a tizzy about what happened at the diner, when I go to open my door almost an hour later, it’s with the full expectation that it’s my cat-hoarding neighbor who’ll be standing there, asking me if I’ve seen one of her many feral cats.
But, instead, when I wrench open the door, it’s Professor Fyre looming over me, not Mrs. Crawford with a cat on her arm.
Am I hallucinating? Is this some weird sex day-dream?
But no. As soon as Fyre clears his throat and holds up my phone, I know it’s real because the screen is cracked.
My dreams are never this detailed.
I take my phone with trembling fingers. “Wh—How—Where—?”
“You’re the only Ash on the intercom system,” he says.
When my shocked expression doesn’t change, he adds, “I’m your therapist. I do happen to know your surname.”
“B-But the buzzer didn’t…” I trail off because I don’t know why I keep trying to challenge the reality of this situation.
“A very kind lady let me in, but only after she made sure I didn’t know anything about her missing cat.”
“Mrs. Crawford let you in?” My head’s swimming and I have a feeling it’s to do with Fyre’s frank, unblinking stare.
Then he holds up a brown paper bag printed with the name of the diner we were both just at. “I took the liberty of ordering you some food. Cheeseburger okay?”
I don’t know how I feel about Professor Fyre sitting on my couch. Hell, I don’t even know how I feel about eating in front of him. Especially since I’m starving, and goddamnit this cheeseburger is so fucking delicious. I try to restrain myself, but then I lose concentration after a bite or two and realize I’m devouring my food like my last meal was a pretzel I ate seven weeks ago.
“Damn, she wasn’t kidding—they do make good burgers,” Fyre says.
I’ve been avoiding looking in his direction as much as possible, but this has me stymied. “She?” I ask through a mouthful of burger patty and cheese.
“Sally, my patient.” Fyre stares at the window opposite us as he pops a fry into his mouth, and then glances over at me. “My session with her ran late tonight, and she recommended this place to me when I left. Guess she heard my stomach grumbling.” He laughs, and it’s the warmest, richest sound I’ve ever heard.
How does he do it? How can this man add such vivacity to my dark, colorless world with just one laugh?
“Their burgers kick ass,” I agree with a nod, “but they make a mean pizza too.”
He smiles around another fry, and then his expression turns serious. “Is everything alright with you?”
My food gets stuck in my throat. I swallow hard, but it doesn’t budge. Snatching up the soda he bought me, I suck on the straw for a few seconds. “Yeah,” I say glibly. “Why?”
“You just…you ran out of there so fast.” He glances at my cracked phone where I left it on the coffee table. “I thought something had happened.”
Oh God, I have to lie again. The thought makes my stomach twist, so I quickly put the take out container down on the coffee table. I take a few more sips from my soda can before setting it down.
“I got a call from my mom,” I tell him, not making eye contact. This is difficult enough without trying to look him in the eye. “I misheard her over the noise in the diner. I thought she’d told me my gramps had died.”
“Shit,” Fyre says.
I don’t think I’ve heard him swear before. My pulse picks up speed. “But he hadn’t,” I add hurriedly as I
