Page 90 of She’s Worth the Risk

Except it’s entirely different.

We reach the archive room at the far end of the corridor, and I unlock the door with shaking hands. No one ever comes in here anymore, not since everything became digital, and the air is thick with dust as I flick on the fluorescent lights, their electrical buzz filling the space.

Zinnia stands awkwardly by the door, glancing around at the shelves haphazardly stacked with projector carousels, the flat file cabinets that hold old art prints. It occurs to me that she may have actually wanted to see the slide, so I spend a moment hunting for it, plugging in the old projector and loading the slide into the carousel. I hit the light switch beside the door, plunging the room into darkness, then fumble for the projector switch. It blinks on, casting Sleeping Venus across the back wall of the archive room. We stare at the nude, posed in reclining contrapposto in an open landscape, until the silence becomes so thick I can’t breathe.

“It’s believed Giorgione started this work, and it was later completed by Titian,” I say at length. “The patron was a wealthy male who commissioned it for his private space. What’s most interesting is that the subject is asleep, unaware she’s being looked at. So while the viewer has complete access to her, she has no agency.”

I glance at Zinnia. She’s studying Venus, head tilted in thought.

“She might have more agency than you think,” Zinnia murmurs, and my pulse jumps. Is she talking about us?

I force my gaze back to Venus. “Then there’s the setting,” I continue. “She’s nude, completely exposed and vulnerable, in a public space.” It’s impossible not to think of Zinnia as I say this, dropping her robe in life drawing, undressing on my desk. I’m not sure if she’s thinking it too, but her fingers brush my arm, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

“Nick,” she says softly. “It’s stunning, but is this really why you brought me in here?”

I swallow thickly. “No.” My gaze lifts to hers, and it’s an effort not to kiss her, or more. I can’t do that again on campus. “I just wanted to see you. To talk to you. This… fuck.” I tug my glasses off to grind the heel of my hand into my eye. “This sucks, and I miss you like crazy.”

She softens. “I miss you too. It hasn’t been easy for me either.”

There’s a faint flicker of relief behind my ribs, and I watch the dust motes dance between us in the projector’s light. “I know this isn’t what you wanted. What you signed up for.” I go to reach for her and stop myself. “If you want to leave New York, if you regret this…”

“I don’t.” She moves closer, not touching me, but close enough that I can see the gold in her irises. “I could never regret you, Nick. Not for a moment.”

Emotion tightens my throat, and I ball my hands into fists at my side to stop myself from touching her. From pulling her close and showing her how fucking desperate I feel.

“But…” She bites her lip, wavering. “Are you sure this is worth it?”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“Us. This.” Her gaze searches my face. “I’m so crazy about you, but are you sure I’m worth it?”

My breath rushes out in disbelief. That she could even ask that. Even think that.

I step closer, the levee finally bursting. I’m done holding back. I’ve held back enough with her, and I won’t do it anymore. I won’t hurt her like this anymore.

“I’m more sure than I’ve ever been about anything,” I tell her hoarsely. Then I pull her into my arms and crush my mouth to hers.

35

ZINNIA

Nick’s lips feel like home as they meet mine, and even though I know better than to kiss my professor—on campus, no less—it doesn’t stop me.

“Fuck, I missed you,” I say, fingers already digging into the walnut waves of his hair. He tosses his glasses onto the shelf behind me, his mouth on mine again a split second later, like he couldn’t bear us to be apart any longer.

“I haven’t slept in days,” he rasps, hands skating down my back, my waist, over my hips. “I missed you too much. Every goddamn inch of you.” I whimper as he grips my ass, dragging me against his growing erection.

God, we should stop. We know better, both of us. Nick’s career is at stake here, and that matters to me a lot.

But it’s killed me to be away from him. I’ve hardly slept either, lying awake to stare at that crack in the ceiling, missing Nick in ways I didn’t know were possible. The truth is, I had been wondering if staying in the city was a mistake, but I only wondered that because I couldn’t see him. Because I was in pain. Seeing Nick now, there’s no question in my mind. I’ve moved on from many people in my life, but I’ve never felt the deep, gnawing ache I do when Nick and I are apart. I need this man more than anything.

And I need him now.

I shove his jacket over his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and slide my hands up his chest, skin warm through his shirt. He’s wearing his tie, and I use it to tug him closer so I can wrap one leg around his hip, rocking against his growing hardness. I half expect him to push me away, to put a stop to this, but he looks dazed as he kisses his way up my neck, as he backs me into the low filing cabinet. I jump on top of it, winding both legs around his waist, and he groans, dropping his forehead to mine.

“It was torture being away from you, honey.”

“I know,” I whisper, stroking his jaw. “Because it was torture for me too.”