Page 61 of The Headmaster’s Rule

Eleanor’s cheeks color. “I didn’t tell her anything, I swear. But she’s very perceptive…”

“Sweetheart, I trust you.”

Shit, I didn’t mean to call her that again right off the bat.

Her gaze softens. I’m not sure if it’s from the endearment, or the declaration of trust, but it touches something deep in my chest. Something that nudges me to go on.

“She told me I was an idiot for pushing you away.”

Eleanor laughs quietly to herself, looking down into her coffee. Pink creeps up her neck as she admits, “I accidentally told her I had a crush on you.”

My lips twitch with amusement. “Accidentally?”

“Before I knew she was your daughter.”

“When was that?”

She thinks for a moment. “After our first meeting.”

I grimace, recalling that first meeting in the stuffy conference room, how I treated her. I was an ass.

“The one where I was rude and dismissive?”

She emits a light laugh. “Yes.” A slow sip of coffee, then her gaze wanders back to mine. “But so handsome.”

Surprise mingles with delight behind my ribcage. Has she been attracted to me this entire time?

“And when you put on those glasses…” Her blush deepens, and she pretends to fan herself.

My brows climb my forehead. “Really?”

She nods, biting her lip, and I consider pulling them from my pocket to slip them on now. All this time I’ve seen them as a symbol of how old I am, and she likes them.

But that thought brings me back down to earth. Even though my daughter seemed to think the age gap between me and Eleanor doesn’t matter, I need to hear it from her.

“I’m twenty years older than you, Eleanor.”

“I know.” She studies her coffee, avoiding my gaze. Her cheeks appear to be a permanent shade of crimson now, and it’s fucking adorable. “But I don’t care. I actually…” She clears her throat. “I think that’s kind of hot, too.”

I lean back in my chair, absorbing this. I’d be horrified if Juliana were to date a man my age, yet I can’t deny how drawn I am to Eleanor. On paper, I know it’s wrong.

But when I’m with her, it feels so damn right.

I sip my coffee slowly, taking a moment to acknowledge where I am. At Eleanor’s place, late at night. We both know I shouldn’t be here.

And we both know I won’t be leaving.

My gaze falls to the papers spread across the counter. It’s lists of fundraiser stuff, and a sketch of what appears to be the school grounds. I motion to it curiously.

“What’s this?”

“Oh.” A smile tugs at her lips. “Since you approved my plan to hold the fundraiser at the school grounds, I’ve been drawing up ideas.”

I regard her with awe. That conversation was only a few hours ago, and she’s been out all evening.

“When?”

“As soon as I got home from drinks tonight.” Her gaze flicks to mine, sheepish. “I couldn’t wait.” She seems embarrassed that I’ve caught her working on this, that she’s excited, but she shouldn’t be. Her passion is one of the things that draws me to her.