Page 41 of Learn Your Limits

Chapter thirty-nine

Emiliano

I was expecting to see Reid front and center, fifteen minutes early for class as he has been every morning since the start of the semester.

Now that I’ve gotten to know him, I realize promptness is something he actively works for, so I’m confused as to why he would choose the day of his final to break the streak.

Has something gone wrong?

When I’m only seconds away from texting him, I hear the doors of the lecture hall open and raise my head to see him and a few other students filter in. While the other students scatter to find a seat, Reid keeps walking toward me with a piece of paper in his hand.

He pauses in front of my podium before handing the paper over, carefully tilted in a way where only I could see its contents.

To the other students, it might seem like he is handing me an end of the semester gift.

Perhaps a gift certificate or hand-written letter, but I see this for what it really is.

A declaration.

Reid has drawn me, relaxed and reading on the couch while we were away on our fall break trip. It’s his talent alone that nearly causes a blush to form on my face, for I’ve never felt so beautiful, portrayed as if I am the center of his world.

“You have a few minutes to spare,” I reply automatically. My mind is frozen by the three little words written at the bottom of the sketch. As lovely of a gift as this is, I’m tempted to put him over my knee for making my brain malfunction before I need to address him and his classmates.

Clearing my throat, I attempt to school my features, but still give him a small smile and affectionate nod.

I cannot outright declare my love for him in front of this lecture hall, but I take my hand and brush my fingers along the arm he rested on the top of my podium, his body shielding the act from the rest of the room.

My fingers drag against his skin, following a path of freckles I want to keep exploring.

Instead, I’m forced to stop touching him as it’s only a minute until class is set to start.

Stepping back, I adjust my suit with one hand and gesture toward an empty seat near the front of the room with the other. “Thank you. Now, if you’ll find your seat, Mr. Callahan.”

“Of course, Professor.” His eyes track the movement of my hand as I close the last button of my suit before he turns away to claim the empty seat. Once he’s sitting, I can see the blush that paints Reid’s cheeks as he averts his gaze from mine, glancing around instead at the crowded room.

“It has been quite the semester, hasn’t it?” I ask out loud, addressing the class although I’m still focused in Reid’s direction. One last exam and one final grade are all that stand between us now.

A chorus of cheers and grumbles answer my question, and it brings a small smile to my face. There’s something comforting in knowing people are going through life-changing circumstances, in knowing that as a collective we can overcome and succeed.

“But as we’ve learned: our minds persevere,” I add, turning for a moment to gather the testing materials.

Booklets now in hand, I walk over to each section and lay the stacks down at the front row for students to begin passing them backward.

“Now, as much as it has been an honor to teach every one of you, please pass this exam and do not make me see you in this class again.”

An hour later, most students have left the lecture hall after turning in their exam.

Thankfully, the tests I’ve begun to grade have provided something to focus on instead of looking in Reid’s direction.

I’m sure he’s finished already, but I’m grateful he’s staying behind.

Otherwise, there’s a decent chance I’d chase him down in the hallway after this session is over.

“Thank you, Professor Cervantes,” my second-to-last student murmurs quietly as she hands in her paperwork.

“Of course, have a wonderful winter break,” I reply kindly, adding her test to the pile.

The few seconds she takes to collect her items feel like an eternity. I sense Reid’s eyes on me, the intensity of the wait is amplified by her echoing steps until she exits through the double doors.

With a relieved sigh, I drop the test I’ve been marking, push myself from the table and recline into my rolling chair.

Reid and I are so close to being in the clear, but I can’t let this moment slip through my fingers.

He’s bared his soul to me, and I feel like I’ll implode if I don’t get the opportunity to do the same.

“Reid, come here, please.” I beckon him with two fingers.

His amber eyes hold mine as he shifts out of his seat and makes his way toward me. He slips a hand into the front pocket of his jeans, nervous energy radiating off him. “I'm sorry, Milo. I should've waited to—”

The apology is cut off as I reach forward and grab onto his wrist, pulling him into my lap while a loud gasp escapes him. Quickly wrapping an arm around his waist to ensure he’s balanced safely, I tangle my fingers into the hair at the back of his head and surge forward to place my lips on his.

This is risky. We are not in the clear at all, but I couldn’t resist. I could never resist him. And I also know this lecture hall is booked for an extra thirty minutes due to the exam, so the chance of someone walking in is minimal.

I pour my feelings into our embrace. My lips are wild on his, reciprocating those three little words through sheer passion. His body is pliant but so full of energy against mine as he grinds against me and moans into our kiss.

With a final lash of my tongue against his, I retreat enough to be able to look him in the eyes as I reciprocate his sentiment.

“I love you too, Reid.”

“What are your thoughts on a vintage green suit for the gala?” My question comes after we find a spot in the parking garage attached to the shopping center.

A little over a week remains until Christmas Eve, and we need to find an outfit for Reid.

It should have been higher on our priority list seeing as the Sleigh Belles’ Gala will be our first public event together, but we have been distracted with spending as much time together as possible now that we have the freedom to.

While we are looking forward to no longer needing to keep our relationship a secret, we have spent a lot of time locked away in our own world since the semester ended.

“My father will likely be expecting me to wear something more classic. All black with a red or green tie to incorporate just a hint of holiday spirit,” he says with a laugh, shaking his head.

“Kinda makes me like the idea of a green suit. Besides”—he reaches over and places his hand on my upper thigh, his grip teasingly tight—“I know how much you love seeing me in green.”

I glance at his hand placement and then raise an eyebrow in question. “You’re never satiated, are you?” Taking his hand off my thigh and holding it in my own, I let our hands hover over the center console between us as I stare into his eyes.

“Muneco, you are a vision in anything, but green is certainly your color.” I state and then kiss his knuckles softly. “Let’s go buy you whatever suit you prefer.”

Nothing feels as natural as walking hand-in-hand with Reid.

I’m reminded of our shared vacation which seemed like ages ago, where we were both hesitant with public displays of affection.

It’s different now. We are no longer just professor and student.

No one at this shopping center pays us notice, and there’s no one around the corner ready to catch us.

This is all I’ve wanted for months.

“You’re fortunate we can basically find a suit off-the-rack for you with your measurements,” I comment, placing my hand at the base of Reid’s back as I guide us into a menswear shop. “We’re a little late shopping for the gala.”

“I mean, we can always skip it if we can’t find anything,” he murmurs, his gaze scanning the shop as we step inside.

Something in his comment brings me concern. When I first brought up the charity gala my friend was organizing as a date, Reid was excited. Now, he can’t look in my direction while we try to prepare. I’m wondering if I had missed signs of this before, too wrapped up in our honeymoon phase.

A store employee approaches us, but I signal to her that we’ll be looking around first. Reid and I need to have a conversation.

“Reid?” I follow where he’s walked to a display of ties. “Are you no longer interested in attending the gala?”

His eyes close as he pulls in a deep breath, his eyes purposely avoiding mine while he browses.

“It’s not that.” His voice is low and unsure as he speaks.

“My parents are going to be there, Milo.” He slips his hands into his pockets, still not meeting my gaze.

“The semester is over. The ruse with Avalon has ended, and I know I need to tell them about us.” His brows pinch as though he’s frustrated with his own words.

“I want to tell them about us,” he corrects, his eyes finally lifting to mine. “But I’m kinda freaking out about it.”

My heart aches hearing the defeat already present in his body language and tone. “Muneco,” I whisper, stepping closer to afford him more privacy as he admits his truths. “I would never force you to out yourself or our relationship if you’re not ready.”

After everything, have I been assuming that a public relationship is something that Reid wants?

Most of our time together has been something forbidden and secretive, but we’ve been working toward an end goal.

In my heart, I know it, but a creeping doubt lingers in the back of my mind after hearing the frustration coming from him.

With a shake of my head, I silence the thoughts.

Reid needs reassurance, and I need to be there for him in order for us to move forward together.

I wrap my hands around his upper arms, placing myself in front of him so I can see those warm amber eyes.

“But it will need to happen eventually”—my lips turn upward in a small smile—“and I can’t imagine keeping you a secret when you’re my entire world. ”

“You’re not forcing me to do anything. I want to tell them,” he says, visibly steeling his spine and standing up straighter.

His hands shift to my waist, anchoring himself to me.

“Emiliano, the last thing I want to do is hide you or our relationship. I just...” He trails off, biting at the inside of his lip.

“Will you be there with me to tell them?”

Lifting my hand to his face, I brush back an errant strand of auburn hair from his forehead and gently brush my fingertips down his face until I’m cupping his jaw.

“I promise I will be at your side the entire night.” I seal my word with a small peck to his lips, reveling in the way his body melts and his lips smile against mine.

“But please, don’t ask me to fight your father, violence is beneath me,” I tease, patting at his chest playfully as I step back to a more public-appropriate distance.