Chapter 7

Evelyn's POV

I draped my coat over the back of the chair, fingers pressing against the collar, the unsettled feeling in my chest still refusing to settle. "Because you were spacing out," I said. "Bringing a distracted student back to attention is what a teacher is supposed to do."

"You know that's not what I'm asking."

"Then I don't have another answer for you."

He smiled, just barely. "I thought maybe the professor was jealous."

"Jealous of what?"

"If there's nothing to it, why the emotional outburst?"

The cup on the desk was still giving off a thin thread of steam. I reached for it, and my fingertips touched the ceramic before I realized I hadn't actually wanted to drink anything. Liam took two steps forward and stopped on the other side of the desk.

I set the cup back down. "What does any of this have to do with me?"

"Then why did you call on me in class?"

"I already told you. Because you were distracted."

"Was I?" He looked down at me, his gaze resting on my face. "Professor, your ears are red right now."

I reached for the papers on the desk. His hand got there first, pressing down on the corner of the stack.

"Let go."

"Answer me first."

"What."

"Professor — do you care about me?"

I looked at him, and the tightness in my chest pulled harder than before.

"We shouldn't be having this kind of interaction at all," I said. "You know that. I know that. This isn't a healthy dynamic."

Liam stared at me, as though he hadn't expected me to say it that plainly.

He came around the desk to my side. The office was narrow — the chair by the window was still wedged into the aisle — and when he stepped close, there wasn't enough room to take even a single step back without turning sideways.

"Don't stand so close."

"You weren't giving me that look in the classroom earlier."

"I wasn't looking at you."

"Then who were you looking at?"

I had nothing to say to that.

His fingertip grazed the edge of my sleeve. My shoulders stayed rigid, and I didn't move.

"I don't care about something that small. Now get out."

He laughed quietly, and when he leaned in, his breath skimmed the side of my ear. "Professor, if you really didn't care, you wouldn't have called on me."

I shifted back, and my lower back met the edge of the desk — my only retreat cut cleanly off. He braced a hand on either side of me without touching me, but the effect was the same: I was entirely enclosed.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" I asked.

"I want to hear you admit it. That you didn't like watching me look at someone else."

"I don't have the right to dislike it."

"Who says you don't?"

"Liam."

"Evelyn." He said my name for the first time — not Professor — and his voice dropped slightly. "Look at me."

When I raised my eyes, I caught the expression on his face before I could stop myself. That particular look was the most dangerous thing about him. If he pushed back hard, I knew how to push back harder. But he had a way of putting every sharp edge away and leaving nothing but a patient, steady pressure that made you come undone on your own.

"If something bothers you, tell me," he said. "Don't make me guess."

"I'm not bothered—"

Two knocks landed on the door before I could finish.

The sound pinned me in place. Liam's hand was still at my back, and he didn't pull it away.

The knock came again. "Evelyn? Are you in there?"

Adam.

Whatever warmth had pooled in my stomach tore open and scattered. Liam's gaze dropped to my face, and his palm pressed lightly against the small of my back.

My throat tightened. "Let go of me first."

"I have a document that needs your signature," came the voice from outside.

My legs felt unreliable. I pressed my palm flat against the desk to steady myself. Liam looked at me for a moment, then drew me half a step toward him, positioning himself between me and the direction of the door.

"Want me to hide?" he asked.

Hide. If we got caught, it would only confirm that something was wrong — that there was, in fact, something to catch.

Another knock from outside, unhurried but firm, and somehow that restraint only made the air inside the room feel tighter.

I could hear my own heartbeat going wrong. My palms were damp.

Liam's lips came close to my ear. "Professor," he said, "is the door locked from the inside? I seem to remember — this kind of door can be opened from outside."

I hadn't managed to respond before the voice outside came again.

"Evelyn. I know you're in there. If you don't open the door, I'm coming in."

I was leaning against the desk, my legs barely holding, and Liam's hand was still steady at the small of my back — that warmth the only thing keeping me upright. His breath was hot against the curve of my ear.

"Don't be afraid," he said. "I've got you."

The words didn't calm me. They made the panic already running through my entire body burn hotter.

Outside, a brief silence — and then the sound of the handle turning.

Something went off in my head like a struck bell. I shoved at his chest. "Go — now!"

He caught my wrist. His other hand slipped down from my waist, and his fingers, working through the fabric of my skirt, pressed with deliberate precision against the place where my legs had gone soft.

"No time now," he said.

The lock clicked.

I watched the door handle rotate, and all the blood in my body rushed to my head at once.

Then his fingertips parted the fabric and pushed inside, and I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted the effort of staying silent. My body shook without asking my permission — the interrupted tension from before surging back up through me, tangled now with a suffocating wave of fear, the two things indistinguishable from each other.

"Evelyn." Adam's voice was almost in the room now, carrying a thin edge of displeasure. "Why did you lock the door?"

The sound of a key entering the lock followed immediately. Adam had a spare key to my office.

Liam's fingers accelerated.

White light broke across my vision — identical to that first time at the ice rink — and every sound in the room receded to a great distance, leaving only the single muffled cry I had to swallow back into my throat. My body arched and contracted, pulling toward him as the overwhelming release collided with the terror of being caught, and the last of my composure gave way entirely.

I went slack against him, breathing in ragged pulls, the feeling still running all the way to my fingertips.

Liam held me steady, the amusement in his eyes deep and unreadable.

He waited until my breathing had evened out slightly before he spoke, unhurried, almost conversational. "Professor, I have no experience with these things, so I had to ask other girls what women generally prefer. If you've been upset because of that — I'm willing to apologize."

I stared at him.

Before I could react, he reached into his pocket, drew out something small, and pulled down my zipper, his fingers slipping inside before I understood what was happening.

Every muscle in my body locked up.

"Are you out of your mind?" My voice came out in a strangled whisper.

"No. I just want you to remember who it is that makes you lose focus."

Something cold and foreign was pressed into me, and I couldn't stop the sharp intake of breath it pulled from my throat. The presence of it was overwhelming and impossible to ignore.

The door swung open. Adam walked in with long strides. "Evelyn? Why weren't you answering?"

I pushed off the desk and stood upright, my voice coming out slightly unsteady from the tension. "I was sorting through files. I didn't hear you."

Liam released me and stepped back, restoring the distance between us as if nothing had happened at all. He settled against the edge of the desk with perfect composure.

I smoothed out my clothes where he had disturbed them, drew one slow breath, and only then allowed myself to turn around.

Adam was in a well-pressed gray suit, and the gaze behind his gold-rimmed glasses settled on my face and stayed there for two deliberate seconds.

"You look flushed," he said. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine." I kept my eyes lowered, unwilling to meet his. "It's just — the office is a bit stuffy."

His attention shifted past me to Liam, and his brow drew together. "Liam. What are you doing here? I don't believe you have any classes this afternoon."