Professor's Kiss_A Second Chance, Bully Romance.

by Sienna Blake

  Ailis blinked at me, a touch of hope in her eyes. Then it faded and she shook her head. “There’s a difference between intending to do something and actually going through with it.”

  “And what’s this about me breaking promises to you?” I snarled.

  For a moment we stared at each other. She sucked in a shaky breath.

  “You promised me you’d never leave,” she whispered. “You promised you’d always be there for me. You promised…” Her voice broke with a choke.

  That noise might have well have been a knife to my heart. Inside, I bled hot, bitter guilt. Because she was right. All those things I’d promised her in the hospital, I’d broken.

  Now she didn’t trust me. Not truly.

  She was right to feel this way. I only had myself to blame. I had brought this lack of trust on myself.

  Suddenly all I wanted to do was thrash teenager Danny for ever giving her reason to mistrust me.

  I wanted Ailis to believe in me.

  My fingers gripped at her tightly. Internally I knew at some level I was holding onto her too tightly but I couldn’t let her go.

  “I know you don’t believe me, but I swear, Ailis. I won’t let her down.”

  I won’t let you down, I wanted to say, but didn’t. Because I knew at some point I would.

  Ailis stared right into my eyes, not backing down, searching for something.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Fine. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt just this once. But if you hurt her, I swear to God, Danny, I will cut your vocal chords and your fingers off in your sleep.”

  I chuckled a little. “Just the vocal chords and the fingers? Not going to pull a Bobbitt on me?”

  She let out a soft snort. “No. That’s the one bit of you I’d like to keep intact for selfish reasons.”

  I laughed, even though a part of me was strangely annoyed at her words. Was it the only part of me she liked?

  Her shoulders relaxed a little, letting me know we were okay. Sort of.

  After dinner we sat around the living room, sharing a bottle of whiskey, except for Mr Kavanagh, who was driving. Mrs Kavanagh and her husband were telling stories of the children’s most embarrassing moments when they were kids. Mostly about Ailis.

  “Really?” I said, choking on my laughter, wiping tears from my eyes. Mrs Kavanagh just finished telling us about the time that Ailis ate a cricket.

  “Yes,” cackled Mrs Kavanagh, “our little ’Lish’d put anything in her mouth.”

  I shot Ailis a look as she tried to make herself as small as possible on her corner of the couch, and mouthed, she still does.

  Her cheeks flamed even redder.

  Later, when the two girls were getting tired, Mr and Mrs Kavanagh drove them back to the apartment while Ailis stayed back to help with the dishes. Mr Kavanagh promised to be back in twenty minutes to pick Ailis up.

  She and I stood at my sink, my arms in soapy water while she dried up. We worked mainly in silence. I kept glancing over to her profile every so often, something bothering me. Until the silence was too much.

  “You never told your ma we ended up at the same school,” I blurted out.

  She started then shook her head.

  “You never told her I…” I bullied you, “…was mean to you.”

  Her eyes fluttered shut. “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Danny at school wasn’t the same boy as the Danny I fell in—” she halted, a tinge of pink on her cheeks, before clearing her throat. “The Danny I knew before,” she corrected.

  That wasn’t what she had been about to say.

  The Danny I fell in love with.

  “I didn’t want my mother to think badly of you,” she admitted.

  I was such a fucking asshole.

  Even when I was cruel to her she was still protecting me. Defending me.

  I stared at her as if it was the first time I was seeing her clearly. Perhaps it was.

  I didn’t deserve her. Not to kiss her. Not to teach her. Not to breathe the same air as her. I certainly didn’t deserve to have this…this…whatever we were doing.

  “Danny, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing. Talk to me.”

  “I don’t need your help with the dishes anymore,” I said and turned back to the sink.

  “Don’t do this,” she pleaded. Don’t pull away.

  Part of me didn’t want to. Part of me wanted to drag her into my arms and never let her go.

  But as much as I wanted to…I couldn’t.

  She sighed. I could feel how tired she was getting at being pushed away.

  “Fine, I’ll go,” she said quietly, shaking her head. “I can see you’re in a mood.” Her voice resigned, full of sadness rather than anger.

  She was too good a person to be angry with me.

  She was too good for me.

  She gave me my first real Christmas and I repaid her by pushing her away.

  Asshole.

  King of Bastards.

  It became almost painful to look at her because it was a stark reminder that she was too fucking good for me. I didn’t say goodbye when she said it. I didn’t even make a motion towards her as she picked up her bag and walked to the door, even though my insides were screaming for me to stop her.

  I didn’t turn to look at her even as I felt her eyes on me as she closed my front door behind her, leaving me alone.

  Exactly how I deserved to be.

  56

  ____________

  Ailis

  Danny: Come over so we can work on this song.

  Danny: Where r u?

  Danny: Dearg. Get your ass over here.

  Danny: Okay, you’ve had enough time to get over whatever is up your butt. Stop being stubborn and come over.

  Danny: For fuck sake, Ailis.

  I sighed, ignoring yet another message from Danny that I’d received since Christmas. I hadn’t responded to any. I wasn’t sure how to. And honestly, I was still hurt from the way he left things on Christmas Day. Hurt and more than a little confused.

  I remember what my mother said as she and I sat up alone later that Christmas night, wrapped in a blanket and sharing the remainder of a box of Roses chocolates, both of us fighting for the Snickers until there was only the dreaded Bounty left.

  “He cares about you, Ailis.”

  I snorted. “Like a wart on the arse, he does.”

  She slapped my knee. “Who taught you language like that?”

  “Dad,” we both said at once, then burst out laughing.

  “But seriously,” my ma continued, “I watched him during dinner and afterwards. He watches you when he thinks you’re not looking.”

  I rolled my eyes. My ma was delusional, insane from her desire to see me married and up the duff, like any good Irish mammy.

  “We’re just friends,” I lied.

  Because there was no way in burning Catholic hell that I was admitting that I was having no-strings sex with him. My ma was pretty open-minded and liberal, but I didn’t think even she would react well to that bit of information.

  “You like him, too,” my ma said.

  I let out a sigh. At least this was something I couldn’t lie about.

  “Of course I like him. He’s talented as hell, smart, passionate and can be thoughtful when he wants to be. I know him, the real him, the one he keeps locked away from all the world. That’s the man I like. Not his mask, not the way he…” I remembered how cold he’d turned earlier, his rejection like the echo of a knife in my heart, “…the way he pushes me away sometimes.”

  My ma let out a sigh. “Ah, my love. Men do that when they’re falling for you.”

  I let out a snort. “What? Act like an asshole?”

  “Language.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Men are different from us, Ailis. They don’t dwell in emotions every day like we do. It gets too much for them when the feelings become too strong. They need to take a step back.
To feel their independence again.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “Give him exactly what he wants. Space. Then he’ll realise it’s not what he really wants. And he’ll come running back.”

  “If he doesn’t?”

  “Then he was never yours to begin with. But at least’ll you know.”

  I mulled over what my mother told me. It sort of made sense in a weird way.

  I smiled and glanced up to my ma. “Why are you so wise?”

  She chuckled. “I did manage to capture your father’s heart over all those other girls. He was the school star football player, you know?”

  Capturing someone’s heart didn’t mean things would work out. Even if Danny did develop feelings for me, so what? Our lives would be ripped apart at the end of the year.

  I meant what I said when I said he’d be the worst boyfriend ever. He was rude and could be cruel. He was single-minded and obsessed with his music to the detriment of the rest of his life, it seemed.

  I wanted someone who could love me over everything. Someone I could rely on. Someone I could have my own family with one day.

  And this was not Danny. At least, not the Danny he’d become.

  Another message came through, breaking me out of the past. This time it was from Ethan.

  Ethan: U still comin 2 The Jar?

  The Jar was hosting a New Year’s Eve celebration. Ethan and a few other students from our year were going. I’d decided to stay in Dublin for the rest of the holidays instead of heading back to Limerick with my parents after Christmas so I could spend New Year’s Eve here. At least tonight I could let loose, have a few drinks and have some fun. I could forget about Danny and what we were doing or not doing.

  Me: Hell yeah!

  Ethan: Sweet. C U soon.

  I threw my phone on the bed and went to eat, shower and get ready.

  Another message came through as I was getting ready to leave my apartment for The Jar.

  Danny: I’m comin to get your stubborn ass.

  Me: Not at home. Sorry, not sorry.

  Danny: Where r u?

  Me: NYE celebrations, loser ;)

  Danny: Where?

  I let out a snort. As if I would tell him. He’d probably rock up with his guitar and demand I help him with lyrics right then and there. Seriously, that man had next to no chill. He was obsessed with his music. Obsessed.

  Which leaves very little room in his life for you, Ailis. What are you doing with him?

  I shoved that thought away before dropping my phone back into my bag, message unreplied to.

  The Jar was crowded and hot and awesome. The crush of bodies were swaying to a live cover band on stage. I didn’t recognise them, but they were good. Singing indie pop covers such as DNCE’s “Cake by the Ocean” and Walk The Moon’s “Shut Up and Dance”.

  Calvin and a few other students in my year were here too, clustered in small groups around a corner of the bar. Thankfully Veronica and her minions weren’t. The Jar probably wasn’t fancy enough for them.

  Ethan pushed through the crowd to stand next to me, handing me a fresh gin and tonic, and I smiled at him. “Thanks, Ethan.”

  “Anything for you, DeLish.” His arm wound around my shoulder.

  I should step out of his side hug. But I was tipsy and I stupidly missed Danny. It was an hour to New Year’s and I felt like I wanted to be kissed. Which was why I leaned into Ethan’s touch. This was probably a bad idea, but I was tipsy enough and annoyed at Danny enough to ignore this thought.

  I took a long pull of my drink and winced when the coldness went up into my brain.

  “Hey, it’s the prof,” Ethan said.

  The brain freeze seemed to grip my entire body. I could barely move as I scanned the crowd, my heart in my throat.

  Danny was pushing his way through the crowd from the doorway, murder in his eyes which were locked on me.

  Oh. Fuck.

  I was sure that my face was betraying my every panicked thought.

  Oh. God, what are you doing here? How the fuck did you find me? Please don’t make a scene.

  Even from here I could see Danny’s eyes narrowing, as if to say, you brought this on yourself.

  I spun, knocking Ethan’s arm off me, turning my back on the man who bewildered me as much as he enraptured me.

  “What’s wrong?” Ethan asked.

  I ignored him, my attention focused on the heat between my shoulder blades from Danny’s stare and the way my skin had sensitised at the knowledge that every second he was getting closer, even if I couldn’t see him coming.

  But then again, I never saw him coming, did I? Not at the hospital. Not at school. Not here.

  “Ms Kavanagh.” Danny’s voice ground out from behind me.

  I couldn’t ignore him. Ethan would know something was wrong. I turned slowly, steeling myself for…Lord knows what.

  Danny was dressed in his fitted black sweater, forming the most beautiful wide plains across his broad shoulders and firm chest. I could almost see the body underneath, the body I’d had my hands on so often the last few weeks.

  Our eyes locked and his nostrils flared. He was still angry with me. So angry he’d hunted me down.

  What do you want from me? I wanted to scream.

  “Professor,” I managed to force out. I aimed for a casual tone and failed. My voice sounded low and breathless and…turned on. Shit.

  “How has your break been, professor?” Ethan asked, breaking through the terse silence between us.

  Did Ethan feel the tension between Danny and me? Did he notice how Danny was staring at me, unblinking, like he’d marked me as prey?

  “It’s been…” Danny said, “deliciously wet.”

  “I’m so embarrassingly wet.”

  “No,” he murmured against my pussy lips. “Deliciously wet.”

  I sucked in a breath as this memory assaulted my senses, disgraceful heat already pooling between my legs. Danny’s eyes remained on me the whole time, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. I swear he could see what he was doing to me already.

  Ethan frowned. “Wet? Has it been raining in Dublin? I’ve been back in Cork for most of the holidays.”

  Dear God. Could this get any worse? Could it be any more awkward?

  “What have you been up to?” Ethan barrelled on.

  “I’ve been obsessed with all things…red.”

  Ethan’s frown grew. “Red? As in the colour?”

  Danny smirked. “Sure, kid. As in the colour.”

  Ethan looked miffed, but in true polite Irish form, he moved on to the next socially acceptable question, totally unaware of how much I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

  “Have you been working on any new songs?”

  “I have. Working hard. My muse has been keeping both my hands and my mouth busy.”

  Before I could stop it the memory of his naked body slammed into me, his fingers digging into my hips as he held me down.

  Dear God. I almost moaned.

  I couldn’t stay here and listen to this anymore.

  “I’ve got to go to the bathroom,” I mumbled.

  I turned, slipping my drink onto a table, and pushed through the crowd. Goddamn him. Why did he have to just show up like this?

  I couldn’t go back even after I had ten minutes to compose myself in the bathroom. I was just about tipsy enough to yell at Danny when the frustration got too much. Then Ethan would figure out our secret. And I would be fucked.

  I cut towards the exit instead. I’d send Ethan a message later. I just needed to get out of here. Away from Danny.

  Outside the door I grabbed my jacket from the coat room. I hurried out of the building, pulling my jacket around me, wishing it was a shield that could protect me from the blue-eyed devil who didn’t really want me but for some strange reason, couldn’t leave me the hell alone.

  The night air was crisp but the sky was dark, all stars hidden by a thick blanket of cloud.

  “M
s Kavanagh,” I heard Danny’s gruff voice yell out from behind me.

  Fuck me.

  I wrapped my jacket around me even tighter and walked faster down the sidewalk, sidestepping drunk revelers. Maybe if I ignored Danny, he’d just go away. Or maybe he’d get stuck behind a particularly large and obnoxious group of drunks and I’d lose him.

  “Dearg.”

  No feckin’ chance. He was gaining on me. I could hear his voice getting closer. What was the chance that I could outrun him home? Dive into a cab and whiz away?

  “Ailis!”

  Sometimes, like now, there was no avoiding your problems. Sometimes the only thing you could do was to face them.

  I spun towards Danny. “What?”

  He skidded to a halt in front of me, his hair a mess like he’d been running his hands through it. His long black overcoat unzipped, flapping at his sides.

  “Just wait a second,” he said.

  “Wait. For. What?” I yelled in his face. “For you to figure out whether you want to be nice or an asshole to me today?”

  He blinked at me as if he couldn’t understand where my aggression was coming from.

  “Why are you yelling?” he asked in such a calm voice I wanted to hurt him. Badly. God, this man frustrated the living shit out of me.

  “Do you know how many pubs I had to go to to find out where you were?” he said. “I should be the pissed off one.”

  “You can’t just hunt me down.”

  “You wouldn’t answer your phone.”

  “What?”

  “I called you three times.”

  It must have been when I was in The Jar. I didn’t hear my phone.

  “I had plans.”

  He scowled. “And I told you I needed your help.”

  Jesus Christ. He was glaring at me as if I was the one being utterly self-centred and selfish.

  I wanted to throttle him. No, to beat him to a pulp, throttle him, then to push his body into a freezing lake where it wouldn’t be found.