Emily: Hello Kitten (The ‘Hello’ series)

19. Chapter 19

nineteen

“ I know you’re awake,” Adrian says in the morning, pulling me against him. “And you’re mine until checkout.”

“I know,” I whisper.

“No more notes on your essays. No more promises once we get back,” he says gently. “But…”

“No loopholes either,” I insist.

“If you keep watching me the way you do in class, we’ll have a problem.” He kisses the back of my shoulder. “How do you feel?”

I close my eyes. “I’m sore.”

“Then let me take care of you,” he says simply. “No sex, but I’m not leaving you in pain.”

I give in, letting him clean me in the shower, letting him feed me breakfast since he doesn’t want to leave the room.

“Tell me something about your tattoos,” I say as I run my finger over a few.

“This one,” he says, taking my finger to the sun on his bicep. “Every day is a new chance.”

He glides my hand down to his foot. “The rooster I got because of some old sailor belief that it was lucky, and I needed it.”

He then shows me a quote from his favorite story by Edgar Allen Poe. I listen but don’t say much, not wanting him to stop sharing. Even though this soft side of him is killing me.

I open my mouth when he feeds me another piece of fruit.

“I said nothing gentle,” I say after I swallow.

“And last night, I was plenty rough with you. Does your head hurt from all the choking? Your throat hurt from me fucking it? Your ass?”

I squirm. I expected to be in more pain than I’m in. But his being sweet like this is bugging me. He shouldn’t be nice. How am I supposed to yell at him if he doesn’t give me a reason?

“Everything is fine, Adrian. Remember what today is,” I whisper.

“I know. I have to leave you alone when we get back unless—”

“No!” I stand up and immediately start grabbing clothes. “There’s no unless. We’re done. We had a good weekend. You’re going back to your job. I’m going back to my studies. We have to be done, and that’s what we’re going to be.”

“Emily,” he says.

“Don’t be sweet with me! We’ve been good fuck buddies and that’s all. I didn’t want to have this talk until I dropped you off, but we can’t do this. We can’t sneak around. We have to stop. I won’t fantasize in class. I won’t… I’ll deal.”

“Give me the car keys,” he says, and I toss them his way.

The silence around us is killing me. I can’t shake it as we pack, when we check out, or when Adrian insists on driving when we get in my car. I try to get some sleep, resting my head back as Adrian focuses on the road.

My breathing changes and I start to drift as his voice snaps me back.

“I’m not afraid, Emily. I can understand why you are. But you’re making this choice, not me.”

“Your job?”

“That’s on me, not you.”

I keep my mouth shut the rest of the way, as does Adrian. Nothing is said until we’re at his place. I climb out of the passenger seat and wait for Adrian to get his bag and give me the keys back.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow… Dr. Hayes,” I say softly as he stands before me, gripping the bag tightly.

“If something changes… if you need anything, tell me,” he says calmly.

“Yeah.”

He pauses and inches closer. “Call me ‘Professor’ or ‘Sir’ even once, and things will change.”

I swallow and nod once. “Don’t call me anything but my name.”

I take the keys from his hand and leave before we can tempt fate any more. Because if he calls me Kitten one more time, I don’t know if I can ever leave.

Beth clings to me when I get home, wanting to know every detail of the wedding. With a slight lump in my throat, I tell her everything. Well, I leave Dr. Hayes out because he’s only Dr. Hayes, but even after she leaves me alone in my room, I can’t sleep at all.

I’m freezing without Adrian wrapped around me. I miss his tie wrapped around my wrist so I can’t touch him. I miss his hands on me.

Because somehow, this morning and last night proved we’re not just sex. I want us to be. I want us to be hot sex and nothing more. I need us to be a lust-fueled weekend and nothing else, but he’s not. We’re not.

It doesn’t matter. I know this has to end.

Of course, that’s easy to say while alone in bed. When I slide into class, all my marks still covered, Beth still telling me that I should give Yacht Guy a try… I feel like shit. I feel worse than shit when Dr. Hayes walks in.

“Looks like he didn’t get any sleep,” Beth whispers. “I guess you were right.”

“Right?” I ask.

“I mean, not to be mean, but one weekend away and he clearly had fun last night. Maybe Sundays are his ‘fuck’ days,” she says, then elbows me. “Good you decided to be done with him for multiple reasons.”

I clear my throat. “Yeah,” I agree, managing a half smile.

I focus on taking notes, not how ragged his voice sounds. I don’t want to ask him how he’s doing. I don’t want to drag this out. I have to let him go. It shouldn’t be hard!

Sure, we talked some yesterday morning. Sure, our chemistry is insane. Sure, I like being the reason he smiles, but this can’t work. Won’t work. He’s a professor. As long as he’s my professor and I’m a student, it’s too dangerous.

I rub my wrist, thinking of his tie biting into my skin. My fingers trail over my neck, where I have his hickeys and bite marks covered with makeup. My eyes lift against my will, and I find Dr. Hayes staring at me while a student is reading.

He tugs his tie. The same fucking tie. Why is he wearing that tie?

I squirm and look away. It’s fine. It’s going to hurt for a bit.

Keep your resolve!

I make it through class, do my homework, study, and even go to the gym in my free time. I do everything to keep myself from thinking, but Wednesday, class is a special hell. We’re working in groups and Dr. Hayes is behind his desk watching when he’s not helping others.

Right there. Where I told him I fantasized about blowing him. Right where I told him I wanted him to fuck me for the whole class to see. I bite my lip so hard it hurts but can’t help it. My eyes find him again. He’s stroking over the desk thoughtfully until his gaze meets mine.

The desire, the hunger, that primal “I’m going to fuck you right now because I can” in his eyes is like a magnet trying to drag me across the room and into his orbit. I feel myself caving, but Beth grabs my hand.

“What do you think, Emily?”

That keeps me in check until Friday’s class is canceled. I stare at the sign on the door. Not even an email.

“Five days,” I tell myself. “Five fucking days.”

“Hey, come on, let’s go out,” Emily says. “We can have breakfast.”

“I’m going back to bed. We should go out tonight, you know?” I say, determined, totally determined not to fall back into Adrian.

“Are you sure?”

“There has to be a frat party. That means guys. That means fucking Dr. Hayes out of my system, right?” I ask.

“That’s the Emily I know!” She bounces. “You can find someone else who tastes like sweets.”

I laugh and have an easy day other than the memory of Adrian’s last kiss. The long, drawn out one that he just wouldn’t let end. It got softer and softer, more and more fragile until it felt natural for us to pull apart.

Shaking my head of the thought, I fix my purple lipstick and show off my shimmery black top that just ties around the back and my white mini-skirt. I’m going to have a good night. I’m going to get drunk and laid. I’m going to forget about Adrian.

I can last longer than five days.

I tell myself that again and again until I’ve had four screwdrivers and am in the arms of a guy whose name doesn’t matter as Adrian’s name won’t leave my mind. Even when I stumble away from a guy who keeps offering to take me to bed instead of to Beth.

When I get outside, I stare at the stars and smile to myself. They’re so pretty. I take my phone out and scroll. Beth and Danielle’s numbers jump out, but I don’t want to cuddle them. I don’t want to kiss them.

I find his number and call. His voice will be enough.

“Emily?” Adrian answers.

“Why do you have to be a professor?” I demand.

“Are you drunk?”

“I hate you. I hate that you’re my professor. I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you. Why do you have to be you?” I demand.

“Where are you, Kitten?”

Fuck, why am I calling him? Why am I making this harder than I should?

“If I tell you, you’ll come get me, and that’s not allowed. You’re not allowed to touch… I love when you touch,” I moan.

“You’re drunk. I’m going to come get you,” he decides.

“You don’t know where I am. And I’m going home,” I decide with plenty of confidence before I stumble in my heels and fall. I laugh despite the cut on my knee. “I hate you, Adrian.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I have to,” I whisper.