Page 84 of Fundamentals of Chemistry

“We talked,” I said, though that was being generous. Words were spoken, but nothing was resolved. All I really knew was that my plan to respect his boundaries was shattered like a glass beaker dropped on the floor.

He raised an eyebrow. “Hardly.”

“Okay, we didn’t,” I conceded. “But what is there to say? We both know the situation we’re in. There’s a pretty undeniable chemistry between us.” I paused, and he nodded. “We’re both adults. Both consenting. I think we can keep our personal and professional lives separate.”

“I agree. Though we really can’t make it a habit of doing… this… in the classroom. This is blurring the lines between Work and… Not Work… a little too much.”

I laughed and tried to smooth out the creases lining my skirt. They didn’t go anywhere.

“Yes, what we just did was definitely Not Work. I can feel all the Not Evidence of the Not Work dripping down my thigh as we speak.”

“Oh shit! I’m sorry.” Jack sprang into action, grabbing a few paper towels from the roll by the sink and handing them to me. “Here.”

I accepted them with a coy smile. As I began to pull the skirt back up so I could remove my ruined panties and clean myself, he turned away abruptly.

“Do you want some privacy?”

“Are you blushing?” I teased. “You made the mess, but you’re shy now that it’s time to clean up?”

He whirled around to face me. “Well, no, I—”

I threw my panties at him, and he caught them just before they hit his surprised face.

“Would you mind rinsing those out in the sink?”

He stood frozen, staring at the scraps of blue lace as if they held the secrets of string theory. “No,” he said slowly. “I don’t think so.” Then, he slid them into the pocket of his pants.

I threw away the paper towels and fisted my hands on my hips. “You are not seriously stealing my panties.”

“You mean my panties,” he corrected. “You gave them to me.”

My jaw dropped as I regarded his self-satisfied grin. “Are you seventeen years old?”

“I’m sure my seventeen-year-old self never dreamed he would get his hands on Melanie Burke’s panties. I owe it to him to keep these.” He was smiling broadly, unapologetic. He looked younger, relaxed, and completely endearing.

I shook my head, bemused. “You thought about my panties when you were seventeen?”

“And eighteen and nineteen and twenty.” His hands were in his pockets, and he rocked back on his heels as he grinned at me. “And twenty-one and twenty-two…”

“Oh, stop. You did not,” I laughed.

“You were captivating. Brilliant and so beautiful that it hurt to look at you almost as much as it hurt not to.” He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, and I found myself holding my breath. “I couldn’t help but I...like you.”

Realization crashed over me like a bombshell. This situation went so much deeper for him than it did for me. He had harbored feelings—intense feelings—for me for well over a decade.

Suddenly, his reaction when we first met in August took on a new light. He had been shocked and excited to see me. And that had quickly devolved into mortified when I hadn’t recognized him and devastated when he found out I was his competition.

I had hurt him, deeply, without even realizing it.

And now, we were taking a step together that could leave either of us in tatters if we weren’t careful.

That just wouldn’t do with the end of the semester looming. I needed to take a page out of Jack’s book and get some new rules in place. ASAP.

“Okay, so how will this work?” I asked. “We should probably make the classroom—and the equipment closet—off limits. Anyone could have walked in here just now. We didn’t even think to lock the door.”

“In my defense,” he said, “I would have locked the door if I had been expecting anything. I didn’t think you would throw yourself at me.”

I scoffed and stepped toward him, poking my pointer finger into his chest. “I believe it was you who kissed me, if I’m not mistaken.”