Page 123 of She’s Worth the Risk

His expression clouds. “I’m so sorry, honey…” he begins, and my gut tightens into a fist.

Fuck. I knew it. He’s lost his job.

I suck in a trembling breath, but Nick continues, “You have to drop my class.”

My breath rushes out. “What?”

“It’s the only way I can stay on.”

“So…” I lean forward, hope bursting to life in my chest. “You’re not fired?”

“No. But—”

“Nick!” I yank him into my arms as a relieved laugh shudders out of me. “Oh, fuck. Oh my God.”

“Did you hear the part about dropping my class?” he says into my hair.

I squeeze tighter. “Yes. That’s fine.” I draw away with a shake of my head. “I should have dropped it the minute you took over.”

His eyes search mine, ringed with sadness. “But you love that class.”

“I love you more.”

“Fuck, Zinnia.” He pulls me against him, kissing me hard. “I love you so much.”

I climb into his lap, taking his glasses off to set on the coffee table behind me so I can kiss him properly. So I can rock against the hardness already forming in his jeans.

“Besides,” I say, between breathless kisses, “I can always take it again with another professor now that I’m staying.” I give him a wicked smile. “Or you can teach me everything I need to know at home.”

He releases a low growl, flipping me onto my back, bracing himself over me. “Damn right, I will.” His mouth covers mine, hot and urgent, fingers already working their way up my thigh. “And you’d better pay attention.”

“Yes, Professor,” I rasp, as his touch grazes my panties. I’m giddy as we kiss, as we quickly undress, realizing I’ve somehow gotten everything I didn’t know I needed.

“I can’t wait to live with you,” Nick says as he sinks inside me.

“I can’t wait to create a home with you. A life with you.”

After that, we don’t need words. We make love, every touch tinged with hunger. With relief.

With the promise of everything to come.

45

NICK

“Are you sure you’re okay here, Gran?” Zinnia asks for the third time, hovering beside her grandmother, settled comfortably in her recliner by the window.

Sylvia sends a pleading glance my way, and I chuckle, sliding an arm around Zinnia’s waist. The place isn’t nearly as dire as I’d imagined. Sylvia has a small apartment with her own furnishings, a view across the neighborhood, and staff on call at the press of a button. There’s a dining room and community space down the hall, and Sylvia can come and go as she pleases for now. If anything, she seems relieved to be here.

“She’s fine, honey,” I assure Zinnia. “Let’s leave her to settle in.”

“But—”

“We’re only two blocks away,” I remind her. “We can pop back tomorrow.”

Zinnia sighs, relenting. “Fine. But if you need anything—”

“Then the staff will assist her,” I cut in gently, and Sylvia shoots me a grateful look, reaching for my hand.