Bitter Sweet Heart (Lies, Hearts & Truths #2)(66)

He pauses in the front entryway, gaze stopping on the red hoodie hanging from the hook—the one Maverick left here.

His eyes narrow. “Red isn’t your color.”

“It’s the school color.” Not untrue.

“It looks awfully big for you.”

He reaches out to touch it, but I smack his hand. “Keep your hands off my things. And oversized hoodies are all the rage. Please don’t stop by again unannounced. Or at all, really, unless it’s to drop off the signed divorce papers.”

He opens the door and pauses. “Aren’t you going to visit your parents over the holidays?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Of course not. Well, have a merry Christmas.”

When I don’t respond in kind, he steps over the threshold. It looks like he’s about to say something else, but I close the door before he can and lock it.

I lean back against it and glance at Maverick’s hoodie hanging on the hook. What a stupid place to leave it, for anyone who comes to visit to see. It’s gigantic. It’s more like a dress on me. Thank God the lettering on the back spelling out Hockey wasn’t visible. I pluck it from the hook and carry it back to my bedroom, where I hang it in my closet.

I still need to pack for my flight tonight.

And clean up my bedroom.

My thighs are already sore, and my butt hurts like I did a million squats.

As I’m picking up the discarded wrappers and tied-off, cum-filled condom bombs lying on the floor beside my bed, my phone pings.

I have a message from Maverick. His name isn’t applied to his contact, still coming up as a phone number because I didn’t want to make it conspicuous. Or maybe it’s more conspicuous without a name attributed to it.

Maverick: Checking to make sure you’re okay.





I respond right away.

Clover: Everything’s fine. He’s gone and Soph is coming over.





He offers to come back, but I’m aware he has to teach self-defense this morning, and that it would be better to wait a bit, just to make sure Gabriel isn’t going to return. I tell him I’ll be fine, but to message when he’s done with his self-defense class.

I bring my phone with me to the kitchen so I can work on cleaning up that mess. On the upside, the smell of burned pancakes, while unpleasant, does a lot to help cover the smell of sex, latex, and Maverick’s cologne, which I can still smell on myself.

Sophia shows up half an hour later. “Why does it smell like burned food in here?”

“Because I burned food.”

She sets the takeout cups from our favorite local coffee place on the table and scans the kitchen, eyes narrowed. I drop down in the chair, and she takes the one across from me while I fill her in on everything that’s happened, from Maverick coming over last night, to the mind-blowing sex, and then Gabriel showing up without warning and Maverick having to sneak out the back door. “I slept with my student, Soph,” I conclude. “Again.”

“Well, technically you slept with him before he was your student and then again when he became your former student, so this can’t come back on you as professionally or ethically damning.”

“But morally.” I press my fingertips against my eyes. “How will this look?”

Sophia sighs. “If you were planning on making a career as a professor, I would be concerned, but you’re covering a sabbatical, and you have a PhD in library science. This job was a stopgap and a way to pay for this divorce. Nothing more. I guess the question now is, are you planning to keep sleeping with him?”

“It’s not a good idea.”

“That’s not a no.”

“He wants to spend New Year’s with me.” I tap my lips.

“What did you say to that?”

“Yes, but I probably shouldn’t have.”

“Because you think he’s too young, or because he was your student?”

“Both. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore, Soph.”

“You’re having hot sex with a hot jock who you have incredible chemistry with. The age difference is irrelevant. There are lots of people who end up in relationships with their former students. Lots.”

“Usually it’s female students and their much-older male professors. And how many times have we passed judgment on those professors?”

“It’s the married ones who cheat on their wives that I judge.”

“I’m married.” I point at myself.

“Not because you want to be. Gabriel has been dragging this out forever, and that’s not on you. Maybe it’s good that you’re going to see your parents for a couple of weeks. Weigh the pros and cons. But your job here is temporary, and Maverick has a career in professional hockey ahead of him.”

“I know. This whole thing is temporary—my job and what’s going on with him.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts, then. Lord knows you’ve spent the last two years in and then trying to escape a relationship with a serious power imbalance. You deserve to have some fun.”

“Do you think that’s why I’m attracted to him? Because he’s younger and not established?”

“You’re attracted to him for a lot of reasons. One of them being that he’s hot as hell. He’s also built like Adonis and apparently has the dick of the ages. Plus he’s proven to be a caretaker and a protector. And he’s experienced some trauma of his own that you can empathize with. You connect. And maybe it helps to know it doesn’t ever have to be something serious. I’ve known you for a lot of years, Clover. You’re a good person. You married the wrong man, and he threw your world into upheaval. Maverick is nothing like him, and I’m sure that’s very appealing.” She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Try not to overthink this too much. But if you can’t handle the guilt that comes with it, that’s okay. You have the next couple of weeks to breathe and figure things out.”