To Professor, with Love (Forbidden Men #2)(97)

She wasn’t shoving at my shoulders anymore, but the glazed loss and defeat in her watery eyes undid me.

“Fuck,” I whispered. I stopped pinning her hips to the wall and pressed my forehead to hers.

She unwound her legs from me and touched her toes to the floor before sliding down, probably to escape me. But I went with her, keeping our brows pressed together. Once she was sitting and I was kneeling in front of her, she let out a small sob.

Jesus.

“I’m sorry,” I croaked. “Jesus, God, I’m so sorry. I know I crossed the line. So many lines. I know I went way past guy-fighting-for-his-girl and straight into harassment territory last night when I text bombed you, even though I’m still pissed at you for going anywhere with him. How I responded was uncalled for and just...f*cked up. And today in class. Today was even worse. I know that. And then just now...” Cold hard dread settled in me as I realized what I’d actually done just now. “I forced you to—”

I couldn’t even admit it aloud. But oh, God. I was no better than Zach was. The very idea made me sick.

Scared as f*ck of what I was capable of, I stumbled away from her. She must’ve sensed how close I was to completely losing my shit, because she looked at me, and even with her lashes clogged with tears that I’d made fall, she still had the compassion to reassure me. “You didn’t force me, Noel. Not at all.”

I still felt like shit, though. So, I bowed my head, trying to combat the nausea. It didn’t help matters when she added, “But I do need you to go.”

I winced. “I am more sorry than you can ever imagine. Aspen...please.”

She didn’t answer.

I wasn’t forgiven.

“Fuck,” I said a little louder this time.

When she sniffed and covered her mouth with her hands, I sat on my haunches to watch teardrop after teardrop stream down her face. I’d hurt her, and I hated that. She had every right to hurt me back, to never forgive me.

Realizing this was it; she wasn’t going to let me in again, I surged to my feet and grabbed my hair with both hands.

Deep in my chest, my soul disintegrated as I heaved in a choked gasp for breath. It might’ve sounded like a goddamn sob, but f*ck. Whatever.

She watched me for a second before she hugged her folded legs, squeezed her eyes closed, and dug her face into her knees.

“Aspen.” When another *-sounding sob tore from me, I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to push everything back in. But nothing worked. All the pain, and fear, and desperation of losing her spilled out. “I don’t know how to do this,” I confessed, shaking my head back and forth. “I don’t know how to give you up. I love you.”

The features on her face fell. Hugging her ribs, she bowed her head and cried quietly. More lost than I’d ever felt in my life, I approached her slowly and gently set my hand on the top of her hair. When she trembled under the warmth of my palm, I knew there was only one thing left I could do.

I had to let go.

“Okay,” I said, my voice breaking and my chin wobbling. “Okay.” My fingers slid limply from her. My guts twisted as I wondered if that was the last time I’d ever touch her.

I wanted to fall to my knees and keep begging, but I’d already scared her enough. It took everything I had to turn away and walk to the front door.

When I opened it, I paused, giving her one last chance to call me back. When she said nothing, I murmured, “Take care of yourself,” and left.





CHAPTER THIRTY




“The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places.” - Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms



ASPEN



Three days after I gave Marci Bennett an F for not turning in her assignment, Dr. Frenetti rang my phone.

“Aspen, I need you to come to my office. Right now.”

The pinched tone in his voice told me everything I needed to know. I spent a couple seconds closing all the programs on my computer and straightening my desk before I stood and brushed the wrinkles out of my skirt and blazer. Though my knees felt like cooked noodles, I kept my spine ramrod straight and walked the short distance to the dean’s office in a sedate, orderly pace.

As I tapped on Frenetti’s opened door and glanced inside, I found another man wearing maroon wind pants and a T-shirt supporting Vikings athletics sitting back in a chair across from him. Both men turned to look at me. Frenetti scowled in his typical manner. His visitor leered and let his gaze travel down my body as if he’d seen me naked, which—oh, God—he probably had. I crossed my arms over my chest as if that could stop him from ogling.

“Aspen,” Frenetti rumbled out as he motioned to the gawking pervert. “This is Rick Jacobi, head coach for the football team.”

I nodded, and a piece of hot lead dropped into the pit of my stomach

This was it. My career was over.

***

"Lettin' the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier 'n puttin' it back in." - Will Rogers

***

NOEL



My will to keep marching forward had seriously declined in the week since I’d f*cked things up with Aspen. I didn’t want to go to work each night, or attend classes each day, or keep sweating through these f*cking workouts each morning. I didn’t want to answer the phone when Caroline called. I didn’t want anything. Except my woman.