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Lane’s smile falters, and she busies herself shifting books and making room for me. Damn. Sinking down into the seat opposite, I wish I could slap myself without looking insane.
Of course it’s not about the money. Or not only that, anyway. The truth is, I’d tutor Lane for free, even though she doesn’t need it—I’d take any excuse to bask in the warmth of her presence. But if I say that out loud, she’ll wonder what’s keeping me coming back, and then her request from last week will be unavoidable. It’ll hunker between us on this desk like an invisible demon, prodding us both.Kissing lessons.
“Dark energy,” I say, levering my laptop open.
Lane nods seriously. “You feel it too?”
Shit. “No, I meant—in the Astrophysics sense—”
“Oh, sure.” Lane winks, and my gut clenches in response. She’s teasing me. “Thatdark energy. Yeah, let’s talk about it.”
So we do. I spend the next thirty minutes grilling Lane about dark energy, dark matter, and black holes, and how astrophysicists study that which they cannot see. And while she chatters away, it’s impossible not to think aboutanotherinvisible force, pulling the two of us together. A disruption in Earth’s field of gravity. The lessons Lane wanted from me instead of this.
“You know what I need?” Lane says after a while, pushing back her chair. She stands and smooths out her blue sundress with a snap of fabric, while I sit and stare at her like an idiot. Is she cold with those bare shoulders? The AC in this library is fierce. “A book.”
“A book?” I repeat stupidly.
Seriously. Such an idiot.
“Come on.” Lane tucks her chair neatly under the desk and gives me a bright smile. “The Astrophysics section is over there. You can help me look.”
Chest thundering, I glance at the library stacks. They’re empty and dark.
And private.
“Ambrose.”
The soft way she says my name… I’m undone. My chair scrapes back, and my body stands without permission from my brain. I sway on my feet, woozy.
Lane leads me deep into the bookshelves, the fabric of her dress whispering as she walks. I follow silently, with a dry mouth, clenched fists, and stiff limbs, plunging after my student into the labyrinthine stacks.
Of course there’s no book.
Of course Lane leads me to the darkest patch of shadow, then turns to me, her blue eyes silvery in the gloom. Of course she grips the front of my shirt, backs herself up to the shelves, and tugs until I’m looming over her. I go easily, moved by a single nudge of her fingertip.
“Just one quick bonus lesson.” Lane’s hushed words tickle my mouth, because I’m already bending down, already craning my neck, already desperately seeking her lips. She shivers and arches against me, our mouths a hair’s breadth apart. “Just once, I promise. Call it a side project.”
My blood roars in my ears, and all my common sense is forgotten. All the excellent reasonsnotto do this, not to crowd Lane closer to the stacks and grip the shelves on either side of her head, caging her in—they’re long gone.
Distant memories.
Right now, there’s nothing but Lane’s body heat, and the warm, minty tickle of her breath, and the coconut scent of her shampoo. Her dress rustles as she shifts.
Someone coughs on the other side of the library. Food packets rustle, and footsteps creak somewhere else in the stacks. Every nerve ending in my body is alive and humming.
“You’ve really never done this before?” I sound hoarse. Lane’s hair brushes my wrist when she shakes her head. “Then why me?”
See, this is the problem with academia. You learn to never let thingsbe, never to accept a cosmic gift from the universe. Instead, everything must be picked apart and examined, filtered through the rules of logic, until all the magic has gone.
But Lane won’t allow that. She rocks up on her toes, brushing the tip of her nose along my cheek. “Why not you? Don’t overthink it, Ambrose.”
Well yes, I suppose that’s an answer. A deeply unsatisfying one, but an answer all the same. And my chest twists at the thought that it’s notmeLane wants, just a willing warm body, but I chase after her lips before my pride can get the better of me.
Her breath hitches when our lips meet. Lane stiffens for a split second—then melts against me, moaning softly.
Holy shit.
Warm arms wind around my neck, and I tilt my head, kissing her again.
