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Chapter twenty-three

Foxx

My mind has been elsewhere, ever since Finn left me in my apartment a few nights ago. I haven’t heard from him, which isn’t unusual, and we’ve set no rules, made no commitments, but he’s been at the forefront.

It’s stupid, really. We haven’t even slept together yet.

But the space he takes up is disproportionate to what we are—or what we’re not.

He’s still technically my student, and things could turn south real fast…

but the fact it doesn’t faze me like it should just digs that proverbial knife in deeper and tells me maybe he’s exactly what I need right now.

He’s only twenty, but he’s mature in a way that’s disarming, and it’s one of the things I like most about him.

He took the news better than I imagined of my divorce—not everyone finds that to be a fact they can overlook, and that’s on them, but Finn took it in his stride.

Which is why I wanted to press more on the surfing, because I saw something when he talked and I wanted more from him, to know him, to see him.

It wasn’t lost on me how he clammed up. I knew then it wasn’t the right time to push, but I’m hoping he’ll come around.

I could probably find out from a quick internet search, but I want to hear him talk about it again.

There’s a story there; I could see it in his eyes, the way it still stings.

And yeah, maybe I want to be the one who rewrites that ending for him, who turns whatever broke him into something that doesn’t ache anymore.

A knock sounds on the door, and I glance up to find a familiar face. Daphne leans into the doorway with one hand braced on the frame and a smile that’s so similar to her brother’s.

“Hi, I know you’ve got a schedule,” she says, stepping in without waiting, “but this won’t take long.”

I gesture to the chair across from my desk, still surprised to see her. “Go ahead. I’ve got exactly eleven minutes until the next first-year comes in asking if calculus is ‘optional.’”

She smirks and takes the seat. “I’m not here about math.”

Of course she’s not. I begin to sweat a little, and I silently hope that Finn was right about his sister being trustworthy.

“Alright. What can I do for you Miss James?”

“I’m not judging,” she starts, which is usually what people say right before they do exactly that, but her voice stays even.

“Hell, I had a baby in my freshman year. The last thing I’m allowed to do is throw moral high ground around.

And I know you didn’t know Finn was my brother when this, whatever this is between you, started. But now you do.”

I blink. She’s not dancing around it. I respect that, even if my chest feels heavier than it did before she walked in here.

“I know he acts like nothing gets to him. But things do. More than he lets on. And he’s been trying to rebuild.”

I stay quiet, letting her talk so I can gather more background on Finn.

“I’m not here to make you confess anything and, frankly, it’s a little weird I’m even here,” she adds, her eyes holding mine. “Just…don’t hurt him. He’s been through a lot in the last year.”

I let the words absorb, then nod once. Because I’ve thought about exactly that—how easily this could become complicated, how detrimental things could become.

We were meant to be a good time, a one night hookup, but fate decided to throw me a curveball just as I’m contemplating where my life is going and gave me someone I could easily become addicted to.

Student or not. Drama or not, it doesn’t seem to matter.

But I can’t deny, the last thing I want is for either of us to get hurt here, especially him.

“Miss James. I can assure you, I have no intentions of hurting him.”

She assesses me, weighing up if she can trust me, if I’m an asshole or not. I hope she sees that I’m being honest. Then she must see what she needs to as she stands with a smile and says, “Thank you, Professor Jones.”

And I'm left still thinking about him.

***

It’s already dark when I turn onto my street, and the air’s dropped to that winter chill that bites at your collar.

I’ve been walking without really thinking, tracing the path home with muscle memory, distracted by the conversation with Daphne.

That was hours ago, so it’s safe to say the amount of distraction I’ve dealt with today is unheard of.

I’m not this guy. I’m focused and prepared all the time, and I don’t like being off kilter.

I shift the coffee in my hand, still half full and lukewarm, untouched since my last lecture ended. I don’t even know why I brought it home with me.

The wind picks up, sudden and sharp, and I glance up just as the first lash of rain cuts across my cheek. Great.

The storm comes quickly. Within seconds, the sidewalk gleams with water, and the sky opens up like it’s been holding its breath all day. I curse under mine, shoulders hunching as the cold water makes its way down the back of my neck, soaking my shirt. The one day I forget my coat.

Then a pair of headlights sweeps across the wet street. A beat-up truck pulls up beside the curb and the passenger window lowers.

“Hey,” Finn calls out, grinning from behind the wheel. “You’re missing your Ryan Gosling moment. Want me to run toward you and jump into your arms?”

I blink at him, water dripping off the end of my nose. “I’m— What?”

He chuckles, just as a rumble of thunder rolls through the air. “Never mind,” he says leaning over and opening the passenger door. “Get in.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, hesitating, opting to stay in the horrible weather when I know I should just jump inside his truck.

“Just left Daphne’s house, been with Rosie all day.

” He looks at me, tilting his head. “You don’t want a ride?

” The glint in his eyes tells me that’s probably an innuendo, and I fight the urge to let my lips twist into a grin.

Instead, I take one final glance around me.

It’s not like anyone can see much in this rain anyway, let alone who’s car I’m climbing into.

It’ll be fine. I shift my satchel from my shoulder, pull the door open more, and get inside.

It’s warm and dry, unlike me, and the heater’s blasting enough to fog up the windows. I could sigh in relief.

“You always drive around picking up stray professors?” I ask as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Only the cute ones,” he says, throwing me a wink.

I roll my eyes, but the tension in my shoulders starts to ease.

He laughs and pulls onto the road.

“Was Rosie okay today?” I’m not even sure why I asked that. Maybe because I want to know more about his day, how he spends it, see how much he enjoys being with her.

He doesn’t disappoint me. “She was a little menace,” he says fondly. “She’s been trying to roll over, right? Hasn’t done it in front of Daph or Huds yet. But she did it today, so now Hudson and I have to keep it secret from Daphne forever. She can’t know she didn’t see the first roll.”

I huff a laugh. “Guess you’re already wrapped around her little finger, huh?”

“Without a doubt,” he says with a smile. He taps the wheel with his thumb, eyes still on the road. “Daph’s had a front-row seat to every one of Rosie’s firsts. She deserves this one, too. I didn’t want her to miss it, let alone rub it in her face.”

The idea that he’s pretending something hasn’t happened to spare someone else’s feelings tells me a lot about the person he is. A really good guy.

“She’s lucky to have you,” I say before I can second guess it.

He glances at me, like he’s not sure whether I’m teasing, but my face must give me away. His expression softens.

“I’m the lucky one. She makes everything better,” he says it like it’s an afterthought, but something in his voice catches, before he clears his throat and grips the wheel harder.

He pulls up outside my building a few minutes later. The rain hasn’t let up. If anything, it’s more intense now as I look out the windshield.

“You want to come up?” I ask, realizing I don’t want him to leave. And this is my exact problem; when I’m with him, there’s no letting go of that feeling, despite the possible consequences. The age gap between us shrinks; the fact that he’s my student is forgotten. It’s just magnetic with him.

Finn looks over at me, those blue eyes darker in the dim light. He’s so alluring, and I watch a smile bloom across his full lips. “Yeah. I do.”

We burst out of the car and jog up the stairs, heads ducked against the downpour.

Rain hits hard, cold and relentless, but it only adds to the rush.

There’s something electric about running through a storm with someone.

You can sprint and shield yourself all you want, but you’re still going to end up soaked.

Just like this thing between us. No matter how fast we move around it, how many lines we pretend we haven’t crossed, we’re already in it. Already drenched.

The water clings to my skin through my shirt and coat, heavy and inescapable.

But I don’t care. He’s beside me, and the storm wraps around us.

And I don’t want to outrun it. I want to feel every second of it.

We reach the top, breathless and dripping.

I don’t know if it’s the sprint, the storm, or the nearness of him, but something in me shakes loose.

The tension I didn’t realize I was still carrying melts into the puddles at our feet as I look at him.

Inside, I flick on the lights and hang up my coat, turning back to find him still standing in the entryway, his light blue hoodie covered in darker patches, his hair sticking to his face.

“I’ll grab you a towel,” I say, heading into the bathroom, turning on the shower before getting a towel.

When I return, I watch him removing his hoodie. It clings for a second before sliding free, revealing that tan, toned torso I’ve definitely spent too much time thinking about.

He glances up, then at the towel in my hand, and takes it with a quiet, “Thanks.”

“Sure,” I manage. “I’m just gonna jump in the shower to warm up. You can use it after, if you want.”

His eyes turn molten for a second as he rubs the towel over his hair. “You mean I have to sit out here, waiting for you, while you’re in the shower naked?”

His words hit like a spark flashing in front of me, awakening something deep inside me. I take two steps forward, until I’m almost within reaching distance of him. “Want me to leave the door open?”

Finn’s smile curves devilishly. “Wouldn’t say no.”

I could laugh it off, turn around and go have a shower in peace, but I know all I’d be doing is thinking about him, wanting him.

I should probably be the responsible one here, tell him to leave even, but no part of me wants to do that.

Instead, I hover, watching the rainwater slide down his face.

His skin is golden and flushed, his hair dripping and curling at the edges.

He looks wild and perfect and dangerously real.

And all I want to do is make good on the promise of fucking him right now.

The space between us tightens. Shrinks. Then disappears entirely.

I’m not sure who moves first, but the feeling of his lips against mine is the kind of thing I’ve been craving all day long.

The slick of the rain on our skin and the warmth of his mouth is some kind of drug I needed.

My back hits the wall before I even register moving.

His hands slide to my waist. He groans against my mouth, and the sound goes straight to my balls, making me hum in response, nipping at his lower lip.

He dips his head to my neck, and I tilt without thinking, giving him access. His teeth graze, his tongue soothes, and my knees nearly give.

Breaths ragged, I hook my fingers in the waistband of his jeans. “Shower’s still running.”

“Are you telling me to wait?”

I shake my head slowly. “No,” I say on an exhale. “Come with me.”