Forbidden Obsessions (Deviant Desires of Bennington University #2)

Chapter Seventeen

Tomas

A soft knock on my office door startles me. “Come in,” I say. I haven’t had anyone for office hours in ions.

“I need a favor, Professor,” Mia beams with a pageant-worthy smile.

“You’re in my class, Miss Pryor?” I ask, furrowing my brows.

“Unrelated. I need the keys to the cabin,” she says.

“Why?” I ask, setting down my journal article.

“We have a rental request,” she tells me knowingly. Mia is one of the only people on the planet who knows I bought the cabin three months ago.

“For what?”

“I can’t tell you, but your presence is mandated tomorrow. That’s all I can say,” Mia shrugs, clicking her tongue.

“Fine, but I don’t want her to know about it,” I say, removing the key from my key ring. Mia salutes me, then turns to leave.

“Sit for a minute,” I blurt to Mia. Surprisingly, she turns around and chooses a chair across from me.

“Need something, DeLuca?” she asks expectantly.

“No.” I shake my head. “I was just wondering how you are.” She stares at me like a lost sheep for a moment before shrugging.

“I’m fine,” she emphasizes, looking at the dark paint and various abstract paintings that line my office walls. I drum my pencil against my kneecap, giving her time to open up to me. Neither one of us owes the other anything, but she’s Liv’s best friend.

“Really, Mia. I know you reiterate this to Olivia all the time, but it’s okay to not be fine. You witnessed some fucked up shit. Olivia’s going through some tough times right now, but she’ll always be there for you. That includes me.”

“Thank you,” she says, as her bottom lip quivers. “I’ve started therapy, so I’m starting to feel more like myself. Plus, Matt’s been a huge part of my healing. Thank you for calling him that night,” she says, leaning forward to get up.

“I know how devastated I would’ve been if it was Olivia and someone didn’t tell me. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, getting up.

“Sounds good,” I say, glancing at the clock.

I’m packing my bag when another knock sounds at my door.

“Come in,” I say flatly, trying to hide my annoyance. Freedom was in my grasp. So close.

“Hi, Professor,” a soft voice croons. My breath hitches in my throat. Olivia’s in a short, blush pink dress and towering heels. Loose curls frame her face, hiding the bruises on her neck and cheek. She saunters to me deviously.

“Class is canceled for tomorrow,” she announces as she climbs onto my desk, facing me.

“Is that so, Miss Hamilton? And here I thought I was the one in charge.” I shrug. She parts her thighs slowly. I bite my lip, suppressing a groan, as her bare flesh comes into view. “And no panties? You’re very much asking for trouble.”

Her grin widens. “Remember the other day, when you mentioned ensuring I got what I wanted? Consider me mentioning it.”

I pivot and move to close the door and lock it. “That’s great news, because I’m starving,” I say before kneeling in front of her.

“Not here,” she taunts. “You’re coming with me.” I watch in stunned silence as she hops down and pulls me by the arm to the door I just locked.

“You let me get up and everything,” I grumble as we walk out together.

“Actually, I wanted to stare at your ass in those dress pants.” She whistles suggestively. She pulls my arm again, guiding me to her SUV. Something is most definitely up.

Olivia pushes me into the passenger seat, buckles me in, and fixes a silky blindfold over my eyes. “What the fuck? Is this a kidnapping now?” I ask incredulously.

“Something like that,” she says with a small laugh after a moment.

“Where are we going?” Except, I have a sinking suspicion that I already know the answer to that.

“You’ll have to be patient and see… oh wait. Womp womp.” My jaw ticks. Her time will come.

“You’re really going to make me wear this the whole ride?”

“Relax, DeLuca. It’s barely been fifteen minutes. Do you want to guess where we’re going?”

“The airport,” I say, trying to humor her.

“No. Next.”

“The cabin.” She hesitates.

“No.”

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“Definitely not,” she confirms.

“I give up. Just know you’re going to pay when you least expect it.”

“Deal,” she agrees nonplussed. I nod off sometime after she turns on a soft playlist, full of soft folk and dreamy vibes. The movement and the guitar lulls me to sleep.

“Get up, sleepyhead,” Olivia says, gently taking off the blindfold. Bleary-eyed, I adjust to the waning sunlight. It’s golden hour; vibrant streaks of orange, yellow, pink, and red paint the sky.

I expect the cabin, but the air is salty, and there are far too many seagulls to be New Hampshire. “Wow, this is definitely a pleasant surprise,” I say, basking in the sounds of the ocean.

“This isn’t even the surprise yet,” she says, beaming. She pulls me along the beach. The air is cold, but not unbearable. It’s nice to be out doing something, instead of being home in the doom and gloom that has very much plagued us, specifically Olivia, over the last month.

White-capped waves pummel over the deep blue water of the Atlantic. I remember us here on a whim, months and months ago, watching entranced as she decided to go skinny-dipping in waters that could induce hypothermia. Hell, I probably fell in love with her that night—what was supposed to be the end of our reckless, forbidden one night stand that failed gloriously. Even through Nathan and the shit that transpired, we’ve been extremely lucky since.

She pulls me further along the rocky shores until we get to a picnic table, further back, along the grass. “Take a quick walk,” she demands, pushing me back as she sets down her bag.

I quip a brow, then obey, walking along the shore and watching the sunset. Usually, I’m not one for surprises, but I can feel it in my bones that this is going to be a good one. It makes me excited to see her putting attention into something that isn’t her mom.

Ever since the news broke two weeks ago, she’s been with her mom almost daily. Maura has stopped treatment, like she said she would. With her cancer this widespread, she’s not a candidate for surgery. I haven’t seen her since the infamous masquerade night, but Olivia says she’s doing well and in good spirits.

Olivia jogs within my line of sight. “Okay, come back,” she calls. Nerves bubble in my stomach as I make my way back to her.

“You had time to set all of this up in five minutes? It looks like you worked on it for hours,” I marvel. Olivia has transformed the table and surrounding space into a romantic picnic. Votive tea lights line the tabletop next to an impressive spread: salads, fruits, vegetables, charcuterie, and… my nonna’s pasta salad?

“Is that what I think it is?” I ask, nodding to the bowl.

“Mmmhmm.” Olivia smiles proudly. I made it for her once, and we were obsessed for almost a week straight. She pulls a small bottle of champagne from the cooler and pours it into disposable flutes.

“To us,” she toasts.

“To us,” I repeat, watching the sun sink behind the horizon.

“I wouldn’t have made it through this without you, Tomas—my mom’s diagnosis, Nathan, Vanessa.” I see the grief in her eyes as she says her name.

“Shit, I forgot to tell you that I saw Vanessa,” I say cautiously, waiting for Olivia to blow up.

“What happened? Is Nathan dead?” she asks softly. It feels macabre to talk about it over pasta salad.

“Yeah, she’s doing what she said she was going to. Heading to Wyoming to start a new life,” I tell her.

“Here, here,” Olivia says, toasting her. I never thought I would be celebrating anything positive in Vanessa’s life, but I hope she finds whatever she’s looking for. We eat in companionable silence, moaning through bites, and enjoying the salt art.

“I can’t eat another bite, Olivia,” I say as her eyes sparkle mischievously.

“I guess you won’t want this, then.” She dips into her oversized bag, that seemingly holds the entire universe, and emerges with a chocolate cake.

“You sinful wench,” I groan. “I’m so fucking full.”

“I’m hoping to be pretty full myself later,” she mumbles under her breath.

“I heard that,” I say through a mouthful of cake. We eat, clean, then watch the sunset until it has almost completely faded behind the horizon.

Olivia’s face turns serious. “What’s up?” I ask.

“I, uh, have a question for you.” She sucks in a breath, but her hands tremble all the same.

“Before my world fell apart, you asked me if I would marry you. In hindsight, I think you knew what was coming and that it would rock me to my core, and you wanted to show you would be there for me. I was terrified. I’m still terrified, Tomas, but I realized that I would rather be terrified and experience life with you by my side than without you for the rest of our lives.”

The gravity of her words knocks the air from my lungs. She takes a deep breath and steals a cautious glance at me before she kneels.

“Don’t,” I say suddenly. Her eyes widen in surprise. Olivia stares at the ground awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed.

“Give me your ring,” I tell her. She holds out her hand, watching as I slide her grandmother’s diamond ring off of her finger.

“Are you sure?” she asks again, breathing deeply, like she can’t get enough air.

“Olivia Elizabeth Hamilton, will you do me the honor of marrying me?” I ask, kneeling, with trembling hands of my own.

“Yes,” she exclaims. With tears in her eyes and a relieved grin on her lips, I slide the ring where it’s meant to be. This is much faster than I expected, but it also feels more right than I expected, too. Would we have moved this fast if her mom wasn’t sick? Probably not. Am I unhappy about it? Fuck no.

Despite my fear, and my firm belief that Olivia has and always will be too good for me, I feel we’re exactly where we should be.

“Tomas, there’s something else you should know. My mom wants to watch us get married. That could happen at any time—next week or next year. Are you okay with that?”

“Sweetheart, I’ll marry you tomorrow if you want. The date doesn’t matter. Where we get married doesn’t matter. I only care about you and making you happy for as long as you let me. That’s all I’ve ever cared about, Olivia.”

Olivia looks at the ocean longingly.

“It was a miracle you didn’t get frostbite last time.”

“You’re right,” she grumbles with a heavy sigh, “but I have another surprise for you.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” I ask, feigning surprise.

“We’re going to the cabin for the weekend.”

“I can’t think of a better way to celebrate, but in order to keep tradition alive, I’m going to drive.” I elbow her playfully and wink. She laughs all the way back to the car.