That makes me grin a little. “Well, at least that prepares me for what to expect from them in the next year or two.”
She laughs, way more over the top than necessary. “I promise to do my best in taming them before then.” She winks and it makes my skin crawl.
“Are you attending?” I ask only to be polite.
“Yes. I love these types of events. So, since we’re both going, I was wondering if you wanted to do dinner or drinks after.”
I shift in my chair, uneasy and reluctant on how to answer her. “Um, I’m not really sure—”
“Oh, sorry!” I hear Aspen’s sweet voice behind Claire. She’s standing in the doorway, her cheeks bright red. “Didn’t realize you were in a meeting. I’ll just see you in class,” she quickly rambles off before I can stop her.
Fuck. She actually came.
Silence lingers in the air, as I don’t attempt to finish answering her question. “Well, I’ll let you go.” I stand up, encouraging her to do the same. “Class will be starting soon, and I should get ready.”
I escort her out the door, and she surprises me by wrapping me in a tight hug. It’s more intimate than a colleague-to-colleague hug, and now I’m cursing myself for not setting her in her place earlier.
“Bye, Morgan. See you later.” She winks before walking down the hall, and I cringe.
I turn around and see Aspen glaring at me from down the hall.
Seriously? This would be my fucking luck.
She takes a step back as I step toward her. “Are you kidding me?” she hisses. “You sure get around, professor.”
Her condescending tone fuels the rage inside of what she’s accusing me of doing. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Aspen.”
“Oh, right. I’m the idiot who actually bought everything you said to me, all those lines you fed me, all those times I thought you were sincere and understanding—it was all bullshit.” She seethes and my jaw ticks once again.
This couldn’t be going any fucking worse. But then she continues.
“Then I find out you have some girl waiting for you at home the night of the gala.” She takes a couple steps closer, hurt evident in her features as she narrows her eyes at me. “Also the exact same night you kissed me. So forgive me, Professor, but I know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re a playboy who gets his kicks by flirting with your students—I can only imagine how many of them fell victim to your smooth ways back in Ohio—but let it be known, I’m no longer going to be that student.” She takes another step. “I have standards, and I’m just glad I found out before it was too late.”
“Are you done?” I ask with a smirk on my lips, crossing my arms over my chest. She’s so wrong about me that I find it highly amusing.
“Yeah, in fact, I’m done with your class as well. I’ll take the summer class with another professor who can keep his hands and lips off me,” she snaps before turning on her heels and walking in the other direction.
I’m tempted to chase after her, grab her arm, and pin her up against the wall just to show her how wrong she is, but I can’t risk a student or another professor walking by. Touching a student is strictly off-limits and getting fired for that kind of thing would prevent me from getting hired at other colleges.
I roughly brush a hand through my hair, frustrated that I have to just let her walk away. There are fifteen minutes before class starts, so I grab my stuff and head to the classroom, hoping to God she shows up anyway.
But when she doesn’t, I know I’ve completely blown it.
Now I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to explain why I bailed Saturday night. It was a spur of the moment decision, and I wish I would’ve stayed, but Jen had me in such a rage, I needed to get out of there.
Now she thinks I’m the asshole who kissed her and left without a word. Not only that, she thinks Natalia is a woman I’m dating that lives with me.
Fuck, this is such a mess.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ASPEN
I feel like I haven’t slept in days and am now going crazy.
I’ve been pacing my apartment since before the sun rose, and I need some fucking coffee, but I broke all my damn coffee cups.
Clearly not my brightest move ever. But being rational isn’t exactly on my radar right now.
I pound loudly on Kendall and Zoe’s door Saturday morning, and I know they’re both going to be pissed. “Let me in! I know you’re home,” I yell through the door like a maniac.
“Jesus Christ, Asp—”
I barge through before she can finish her sentence. “Give me something to break,” I demand franticly.
She closes the door and faces me. “What?” she asks in a gravelly voice. “What are you talking about?” She brushes the hair out of her eyes.
“Something breakable. China. Glasses. Stupid figurines. Anything will do.” I pace back and forth in her living room.
“All right, just hold on…” She drags her feet to the kitchen and returns with a glass plate. “Will this do?”
“Yeah, perfect,” I say in a rush, grabbing it from her fingers. I raise it above my head and forcefully slam it down on the hardwood floor. The plate shatters into a million little pieces, the sound echoing off the walls with a loud bang.
“What the fuck is going on?” Zoe asks, walking in from her bedroom. She looks at the damage, wide-eyed and speechless.
“I’m breaking shit. Got anything?”
“Have you lost your mind?” She turns and studies me. “Are you okay? You aren’t blinking. Have you slept?” She reaches out to feel my forehead.
I bat her hand away and scowl. “I’m fine!” I shout. “I just need to break stuff. Why is this a hard concept?”
“Well, for starters, you want to break our shit.”
“I’ve broken everything possible in my apartment, which, unfortunately, wasn’t much.”
“Fine.” Zoe exhales. “Only if you tell us what’s going on.”
“I can’t…” I start to break down. “I-I don’t know what the hell is happening to me. My mind and body and heart…I just—”
A tear slides down my cheek before I can wipe it away. “I’ve never seen you like this, Aspen,” Kendall says softly, stepping closer to me.
“I know.” I rub my eyes, clearing the tears away. “This is why I need to break something. I don’t let guys in for a reason. I won’t risk the heartache that comes with it. It’s too much!”
“Ooh, heartbreak anger!” Zoe’s eyes light up. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” Her lips pull into a knowing grin. “I’ll get the plates and Kendall you get the wine.”
“It’s seven o’clock in the morning!” she reminds her, but Zoe shoots her a look and directs her eyes to me. Kendall sighs and does it anyway.
I feel like bursting into tears right now, but I keep it under control. I have no idea why Morgan is affecting me this way. We’d hardly done anything at this point, but it feels like more than just the physical attraction. It’s more than the kissing and how he sets my body on fire. It’s the connection I feel when we’re together. It’s the mutual interest in art, the passion for creating pieces that mean something to us, the understanding of what art means to each other. The pain, the guilt, the inner struggle.
I’d never met anyone who’s completely understood before.
“Before I give you anything to break, we get to hear the whole story,” Zoe demands, and I groan.
“Can’t I just break a plate without being interrogated?”
Kendall snorts. “Not likely.”
“Why didn’t I just fuck him and move on like the rest of them? Why’d I have to go and like the stupid jerk?” I ask aloud with a harsh tone. Kendall hands me a plate and watches as I smash it on the floor. “I mean, who just kisses a girl—twice, I might add—and then leaves? Who the hell does that?” Kendall hands me another, and I add it to the rest of the shattered pieces on the floor. “And why does he have to be my goddamn professor?” I yell out before I have
a chance to realize what I’m saying.
Their jaws drop. Silence lingers in the air except for my heavy breathing.
“Holy shit, Aspen,” Kendall finally says. “The professor you were talking about before?”
“Yes,” I quickly answer and continue, “I just need to fuck him out of my system. Fuck him and kick him the curb. It’s the only foolproof way I know.” I decide.
Kendall and Zoe stare at me, wide-eyed and toothy grins.
“What?” I finally take a breath and ask.
“You really like this guy.” Zoe nods.
“More than any other guy you’ve been with,” Kendall agrees.
“Yeah, well, I did. Before he pinned me up against the wall and kissed me the way he did…”
“Must’ve been some kiss,” Zoe mocks.
I sigh.
“Well, it was. It really was. But…it’s so much more than that. It’s the way I feel when I’m around him. The way he interprets the pieces I create. The way he looks at me as if he’s trying to figure me out…and then I find out he has a girlfriend after telling me he didn’t. So he’s just like the rest of them.”
I grab the last plate and slam it down.
“I should’ve known. Opening your heart only gives people the permission to break it. And once it breaks, it bleeds.”
After helping the girls clean up, we settle in with trashy reality shows and order in Chinese food. As much as I was keeping my feelings to myself about Morgan, I know I can trust them. The more I spend time with them, the closer I feel.
It’s almost as if they’ve been filling the void in my heart this whole time, and I hadn’t even realized it. Ever since meeting them, I’d kept my walls up, cemented and foolproof. But little by little, they’ve knocked them down, wall by wall. And, the thing is, I didn’t even really notice it until now.
Ariel and I used to talk about everything. Sometimes we’d even stay up late and just talk about what we wanted to be when we grew up or what college was going to be like. Even how we’d get pregnant at the same time so we could experience it together.
I hadn’t realized how much I missed having someone to listen to me until Kendall and Zoe came along.
“So, we need to know exactly what happened,” Zoe starts. “Who made the first move?”
I take a bite of my eggroll and furrow my brows as I contemplate on who did make the first move.
“Um…I think it was kind of mutual, but I want to say it was him. We’d been getting closer and closer all semester, but it was he who initially crossed the line. He rubbed his hand over my jaw and when he started to lean in, I leaned in, too.”
“Did your whole body just explode? Was your mind having a mini-freak out?” Kendall asks with glazed eyes.
I burst into easy laughter. “No, I’m not twelve. But I have brought Tristan into the shower with me a couple times after that.”
“Who?” Zoe’s nose wrinkles.
“Her partner in crime…” Kendall snorts.
I grab a piece of chicken and pop it into my mouth. “It’s creepy that you know that.”
“Well, then stop leaving him out in the open if you don’t want people to see.” She reaches over and grabs a box of noodles.
“It was in the shower!” I defend. “Stop being a snoop and you wouldn’t know these things.” I chuckle.
“Wait a minute…” Zoe interrupts. “We’re talking about dildos, right?”
Kendall and I burst out laughing, the noodles spewing right out of her mouth as we take in Zoe’s confused expression.
Once I’m finished clarifying who Tristan is, we all lounge on the couch in our pajamas with glasses of cheap wine for the rest of the night.
It wasn’t glamorous, but it was exactly the kind of night I needed.
I feel better after my night in with the girls. I’ve never felt that way before—the need to be destructive—but it felt good to release that anger instead of forcing it down. Opening my heart and mind and allowing myself to be vulnerable reopened a lot of the wounds from my past. Several tears and broken dishes later, I almost feel refreshed.
After work tonight is the life-drawing workshop, and I’m tempted to skip it, but I already promised Ms. Jones I’d stay and help clean up.
“You coming tonight?” I ask Kendall over breakfast in her kitchen. “Come see what the fuss is all about.”
“If I wanted to see a naked woman posing for an hour, I’d just watch porn.”
“Classy.” I snort. “But for those with fewer brain cells than the rest of us—” I glare at her with a sly smile. “It’s an amazing opportunity for artists. The models pose in these positions that help expand our drawing skills. You aren’t looking at a naked person. You’re creating life on paper.”
“And with that, I’m now skipping breakfast.” She stands up and tosses her plate in the sink.
“You are so narrow-minded!” I yell out, gripping my coffee cup with both hands and laughing.
“Perhaps. I’ll leave the creative and open mind to you.”
“Like you even had a choice.”
She walks back with the coffee carafe and refills my cup for me. “I might skip work altogether.” She groans, setting the carafe back down. “I just want to lie in bed and watch Netflix.”
I flash her a cheeky grin, sympathizing with her broken heart. “I’m not sure Netflix pays the bills, babe.” She curls her lip in disapproval. “We could go buy more plates and break them?” I offer, arching a brow.
“Or you could stop breaking my shit and buy me new plates?”
I smile. “Okay, deal.”
The gallery is busier than usual for a lazy Sunday, so I’m booked with tours back to back. I love it when there’s a massive amount of chatter and shoes clicking on the hardwood.
By late afternoon, I’m ready to pass out. Fortunately, it’s time to set up for the class, which takes my mind off being exhausted.
“So we have three of the rooms blocked off for tonight. There need to be at least fifty chairs in each with extra easels,” Ms. Jones explains to Christine and me how we have a few others helping out too since there is a lot to be done. “At the front of the room needs to be a stool sitting on top of a white sheet.”
We nod in understanding and the group breaks away to get started, Christine following me. I’m busy moving chairs around and can’t help but notice the dreamy face Christine has while she’s setting up the area where the model will be. There’s going to be three models tonight and they will each rotate every forty-five minutes from room to room, offering different poses to each group.
“What’s the smile for?” I ask, knowing it must be because of the guy she’s been seeing.
“Oh, nothing,” she says, playing it off. “Just thinking about my date last night.
I mentally high-five myself at being right again and to remind her that she really needs to work on her poker face. “And how is everything going with this new beau of yours?”
She sighs. “It’s great.”
I chuckle. “See, I knew you just needed to get laid. I should be a therapist. If you’re sad—sex. If you’re mad–angry sex. If you’re anxious—shower sex. Everything can be fixed with a little d, but a big D is always better.”
She rolls her eyes, laughing. “We better get this done before Ms. Jones comes in here and has a coronary.”
By six o’clock, everything is set up and ready. People who purchased a ticket begin arriving and setting their things up. I’m super excited, especially when I start seeing a few classmates from Professor Hampton’s class.
“Hey!” I hear Ellie’s sweet, southern voice.
I turn around and she charges at me, engulfing me in a large hug. “Hi!”
“Which room are you going to be in?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Wherever there’s room left over.”
“I’ll save you a spot!” She calls out, which reminds me I need to grab my supplies from the front desk.
“Oh, perfect. Thanks!” She walks
away into one of the rooms as more people enter.
“No slacking on the job,” I hear Kendall’s mocking tone behind me.
I turn around and smile wide. “What are you—”
“I came to caffeinate you. Looks like you need it, too,” she says as I cover a yawn.
She hands me a cup of hot deliciousness. “Oh, God. I love you so much right now.”
“I know. As you should.”
After grabbing my bag, she follows me into the room Ellie had walked into. “I’m just going to observe…back here.” Kendall stays in the back by a few of the other workers.
I roll my eyes and sigh. “You’re missing out!” I grin.
Once the seats are filled, Ms. Jones introduces herself and thanks everyone for coming. She explains the details of the night, establishing the rules of no photography or jumping from room to room. I can tell she’s a bit nervous, but excited. This event is great exposure for the gallery and helps get people in the doors with the hopes of them returning again.
She then announces the model will be out shortly and skips off to the next room to do the same.
“You have an extra charcoal pencil?” Ellie leans over and whispers.
“I think so.” I lean over and dig around in my bag when I see Morgan out of the corner of my eye.
Fucking hell.
I’m not sure if he’s noticed me or not, but I try to ignore the urge to stare at him.
“Here you go.” I hand her one of my pencils just as the model walks out. She releases the white robe she was draped in and sets her pose. Her long, brown hair is flat against her back except a small chunk in the front that covers one of her breasts.
I decide against using the easel and set my sketchpad upright on my legs as I begin outlining her features. The room is eerily silent as everyone studies the woman in front of us. She’s standing at an angle, one leg extended and the other straight. Her right arm is placed over her chest and resting on her left shoulder. Her head is angled to the ground, her eyes low and steady.
Pushing the Limits: A Student/Teacher Romance Page 19
