Bitter Sweet Heart (Lies, Hearts & Truths #2)(31)

Lavender’s ripped dress.

The deep cuts on her palms that left scars.

Her haunted eyes.

“I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t run by.” Her voice is a wavery whisper.

I stand and lift a hand, letting it hover in the air for a second before it falls back to my side. “But I did. And the important part is you’re safe. A little banged up, but safe.”

She brushes away a tear. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Hey, hey.” I want to offer her comfort, but I don’t know where the lines are anymore. “It’s okay. This is a lot. And it’s layered with other stuff. I’d be more concerned if you weren’t visibly upset by this.” I take one of her hands in mine. “I don’t know if this is out of line or not, but I give a pretty mean hug, if you need one.”

She presses her bandaged fingers to her lips and nods. “Please? I’m sorry.”

“No apologies necessary.” I open my arms, and she steps forward, eyes on my chest. I envelop her small frame. She’s familiar in a way that’s hard to explain. I’ve spent a handful of weeks sitting in a classroom listening to her insightful commentary about the craft of creative writing. And I’ve slept with her. It’s a strange position for both of us.

She inhales a shuddery breath and exhales on a soft sigh as I give her a squeeze. “I got you. You’re safe.”

She makes a little humming sound and turns her head. Her cheek comes to rest against my hoodie-covered pec, and she wraps her arms around me.

We stand there like that, just breathing, for long seconds. My heart thuds in my chest.

“You really are a great hugger.”

I chuckle. “I wasn’t lying. Careful though, they’re addictive.”

She laughs and steps back, but her hands slide around my sides, and she rests one palm on my chest for a few seconds. Her eyes lift, and her tongue sweeps along her bottom lip. “It’s good I don’t get addicted to things easily, then, isn’t it?”

“Good for you, I guess. Not so much for me.” Watch yourself, Waters. “You okay?”

“Much better now. Thank you.” She smiles softly.

“Good. Remember, you have my number, so if you need anything—hugs, self-defense lessons, someone to take your garbage to the curb, more hugs—I’m a few blocks down, and I can run pretty damn fast. Especially when it’s a hug request.” I wink, and she laughs again.

“You are a relentless flirt, aren’t you?”

“Totally.” I nod somberly. “Seriously, though, think about coming to my self-defense class. If nothing else, it’s a great opportunity to beat the crap out of me.”

“I’ll think about it,” she says again.





Ten





Teacher’s Pet





Clover





Three days later, I’m in the middle of dinner prep when there’s a knock on my door. I assume it’s Sophia and her hands are too full to manage the door. While we eat dinner together more nights than not during the week, Friday happens to be our dinner-and-movie date night. I wipe my hands on my apron and head for the front door, opening it with, “You better have the red wine!”

I stop short when I realize it isn’t Sophia at all. It’s Maverick.

He’s dressed like he’s ready for a date: black dress pants, crisp white button-down, tie with the school hockey team logo on it, and a sharp black blazer.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I can hit up the liquor store and be back in ten with some red wine. But you’ll need to give me an idea of what kind, because I only drink it at weddings when they shut down the bar during speeches.”

I chuckle. “Are you even old enough to buy wine?” I know the answer to that, but I don’t think it hurts to remind him there are some lines we can’t cross.

“Ouch. That hurts, Professor.” He presses a hand to his chest and stumbles back a step, then gives me a dimple-popping half smile. He glances over my shoulder, likely checking out the most recent gift basket that arrived sometime this morning. “Am I interrupting? Smells like you’re cooking.”

I smooth my hands over my hips. “I’m just getting dinner ready. Sophia is coming over—my friend who lives upstairs.” Why am I suddenly awkward? And why do I feel compelled to explain?

“That’s good. You gonna watch a movie and chill out tonight?”

“We are.”

“Good. That’s good.” He folds his hand behind his back. “You doing okay? How are your hands?”

“They’re good. Healing.”

“Any other bruises? Sore spots?”

“I’ve got a decent bruise on my hip, but I’ve been using the hot tub out back in the evening, so I’m almost back to normal.” I thumb over my shoulder.

He nods and taps his temple. “Sleeping okay?”

“Yeah. It helps that Soph is right above me.” I point to the ceiling. “Thank you for coming by to check on me, and for your help the other night.”

“I didn’t want to email about it, you know, since they monitor those things.” He taps on the hand railing. “It’s good you ended up filing a report.”