That was what Gray reminded me of now, his face in my hands.
My heart ached as I pushed the words out of my throat.
“I’m not looking for a hero. In fact, I wouldn’t have much use for him if I found one. I’ve got the rescuing-myself thing down.”
His eyes opened, beautiful, beautiful brown eyes, framed by dark lashes. Gone was the arrogance, the edge that made me alternate between wanting to kiss him and scream in frustration. He looked at me like I’d just thrown him a lifeline.
I met his gaze.
Emotion swelled between us, nearly choking me, but I pushed the words out anyway, because he needed to hear them.
“You can make mistakes in your life. You can fuck up spectacularly. I’m not saying that the things you did weren’t destructive or hurtful to yourself or the people around you. I’m not even saying that they were okay.”
Pain filled his eyes. Pain and shame. And in that moment I realized how much it had cost him to tell me the things he’d done. To let me see the man behind the suits and the fancy law degree. He’d shown me his demons and at the time I’d thought he was warning me away. But now I understood. He’d given me the part of himself that hurt the most, the part that was broken.
Gray’s eyes closed as if he couldn’t take the moment between us, like a man who had been staring directly into the sun and needed to look away. But I didn’t let go. I held him in my hands.
“You can do bad things and still be a good man. Don’t let your past take that away from you. You can be more. You just have to try.”
His eyes opened, the pain and shame lingering there, a discordant note on such a proud man. For a moment, I wondered if my words had any effect at all, or if he really was the lost cause he claimed to be.
And then I saw it, shining through the cracks, tenacious, strong—
Hope.
Chapter Ten
With the election a little over two weeks away, all eyes are on the Reynolds family. Will Senator Reynolds keep his seat, or will the weight of his scandals bring his reelection bid crashing down?
—Capital Confessions blog
Gray
She’d gutted me. Utterly. Completely. Three days later, I still felt raw inside. It was like Blair had scooped everything out of me with each word that had fallen from her lips, with the touch of her hands on my face, the compassion in her eyes.
I’d thought she was dangerous before when she’d consumed my dreams and fantasies. My near constant arousal at the sight of her had at least been manageable. This was an ache my hand couldn’t erase.
You can be more. You just have to try.
I opened the door to the classroom, stepped over the threshold, and stopped in my tracks.
I hadn’t seen Blair since our school visit last week. I’d barely slept last night, wondering what it would feel like to see her after the kiss and the words she’d given me.
She sat in her usual seat, talking to the guy next to her who did crossword puzzles when he thought I wasn’t looking. Since he sat next to Blair, I was always looking.
Her hair was up in a high ponytail that swung when she spoke, falling in a cascade of brown silk. She was dressed casually in a pink sweater and jeans, but somehow she still managed to not look like everyone else. Everything about her outfit, her beauty, was pure class.
Usually when I saw her, my dick stood at attention. And like always, it did now. But not before I felt a pang in my chest, like someone had punched me over my pec.
And then her head turned, as though she knew, as if a string connected her to my heart.
Her smile hit me first.
She’d never smiled at me in class before, not even that first day. It wasn’t a big smile, just a small curve of her lips meant only for me. But fuck if it didn’t have my lips spreading, giving it back to her.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Just stood there smiling at her. A flush spread over her cheeks, and then I had to move, because I was standing in front of seventy-five students, wearing a suit, sporting some serious wood.
Fuck me.
I turned, praying my erection would go down, and fled to the safety of the desk at the front of the classroom. I rarely taught sitting, figured if I was going to make my students stand it was only fair that I did the same. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’d used this desk to hide several Blair Reynolds–induced hard-ons throughout the semester.
No wonder she’d looked at me like I was crazy when I’d told her I was worried I’d taken advantage of her. She led me around by my dick, and I was beginning to think she knew it.
I sat down in the chair, organizing my papers, commanding myself not to look at her. I cleared my throat, and then my head rose, and seventy-five pairs of eyes stared back at me.
“Welcome back. I hope everyone had a good weekend. Can anyone tell me the elements of battery according to the Second Restatement of Torts? Mr. Casimi?”
Blair
He didn’t call on me the entire class.
I didn’t know how long my reprieve would last, but for now I was eternally grateful. I wasn’t sure I was ready to stand in front of the class while he spoke to me. Not after everything.
The rest of the school visit had gone well, mainly because I’d done everything I could to keep from touching him or looking at him. It was so much harder to resist the impulse when I was a captive audience and he stood in front of me for an hour.
He had a seriously impressive collection of suits, and this one was no exception. Today’s ensemble was dark gray wool with a light blue dress shirt and a dark blue silk tie. The blues complemented his tanned skin and dark hair. Unfortunately, they also made me want to grab hold of his tie and make out with his mouth. For once, I envied Adam and his crossword puzzle. I needed the distraction.
A message from Caitlin popped up in my computer screen. Even though we technically weren’t supposed to, most people messaged during class. According to the syllabi in all of our classes, it was “prohibited,” but it was one of those things everyone ignored. I’d once seen Adam have the answer to a question our professor asked him messaged to him. I was pretty sure the professors turned a blind eye to it, but I was still too paranoid to chat. I’d gotten rid of some of my “good girl” tendencies, but old habits die hard and all that. But then I read Caitlin’s message and I couldn’t resist.
Is it just me or does Professor Canter actually look happy today? Bet someone got laid this weekend.
My cheeks flamed as I thanked the seating gods for organizing the room in an oval that faced the front. The last thing I needed was Caitlin seeing my reaction. She was right, he did seem happier today. Almost normal. And he’d smiled at me. Actually smiled.
My computer screen lit up with another message from Caitlin.
Bet he’s a beast in bed.
I closed my eyes, wishing I could unsee the entire conversation. After that kiss, I could definitively confirm that he would indeed be a beast in bed. And just like that, I was turned on. In fucking torts.
I didn’t answer her, wasn’t sure I trusted myself enough to even attempt a conversation on the subject of Gray’s sex life. Crap. Professor Canter. Had to remember to call him Professor Canter.
Oh fuck me, I was done.
I leaned forward over my desk, pushing my laptop back, resting my arms against the wood. My head came down as I barely resisted the urge to bang my head against the hard surface. I needed something to jar me out of a string of sexual fantasies, each one dirtier than the last.
The administration really should have done a better job vetting their professors. The vast majority looked like a cross between Santa Claus and an elf. That I got stuck with the teacher who was a panty-dropper was too cruel for words. At this point, passing the class at all would be a win.