Break Your Heart

by Rhonda Helms

  “It sounds like fun, Megan,” he interrupted with a toothy grin.

  Our food came out. I thanked the waitress warmly—I knew how difficult her job was—and started chewing on a fry. The conversation fell quiet again, leaving me alone with the loud thoughts in my head.

  What were we doing here, really? After our talk in his office, I thought that would be it. That I’d let go of this silly crush at some point and move on. But we’d spent hours talking in email, getting to know each other. And now we were here . . . because he’d asked me. Those weren’t the actions of an uninterested man.

  It made it harder for me to think about him as just my professor. I didn’t think there was any way for me to go back now.

  I inhaled my burger; the pasta earlier hadn’t filled me up. It was good, as was the coffee. I could see why he’d suggested coming here. In between bites, I peered into the inky blackness outside, punctuated by streetlights and the occasional car sweeping by on the street.

  A few snowflakes started to fall. It was quiet, picturesque. What a lovely night. I realized it was the early hours of Valentine’s Day. I hadn’t expected to start it off like this—sitting across from Nick after spending hours talking. My heartbeat kicked up a notch.

  “You’re not exactly what I thought you’d be,” he said, drawing my attention back to him and off my musings.

  “What did you think I’d be?” I wasn’t sure what to make of that statement, but I wasn’t mad or anything. Mostly curious.

  “You’re mature for your age. You have fun, but there’s a deep, resonant side to you I hadn’t expected.”

  “We aren’t that far apart,” I pointed out. “And I am twenty-one. I’ll be twenty-two this summer, actually.”

  He dropped his gaze to his plate and chewed on a fry. I sipped my coffee and wondered if it was immature for me to point it out. Ugh. My usual self-confidence was all but gone around him.

  “Do you like teaching?” I asked randomly.

  “Love it.” His answer was immediate. “It was my calling.”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do with my master’s degree,” I told him. I dipped a fry in ketchup and ate it. “I’ve been hoping something will come to me this semester. I mean, I have options. I just don’t know what my calling is.” I paused. I hadn’t admitted that out loud to anyone, even to myself.

  Math interested me. I was good at it. But I didn’t know what would make me passionate. What industry or job I could get into that would satisfy me. Sometimes having so many options could be overwhelming.

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. I changed my major in undergrad—was going to go into psychology, actually.” He shook his head. The light above caught in his black hair and cast it in a golden glow. He was so effortlessly handsome that it took my breath away. Everything he did, from the way he stroked his perspiring cup to the easy smile he bore, was magnetic. I’d never seen a man so comfortable in his own skin.

  No wonder I was drawn to him like this. He was what I aspired to be. What I thought I’d been until I’d met him. It was easy to be carefree and relaxed around people who didn’t have a deep impact on you.

  Something told me he was going to have an impact on me, whether I liked it or not. He already was starting to.

  I snapped my mind back to attention on the topic at hand. “Then you can help me with my psychology of stress homework,” I said with a light laugh. “That class is killing me.”

  “I took that. It was several years ago, obviously. But I might still have my notes. Want me to find them for you?”

  “Really?” I gave him a gratified smile. “I was kidding, but I’d love some help. It feels too abstract for me to really get into it. I keep zoning out and missing things. Which is unlike me.”

  Our conversation moved to other topics, flitting here and there. What movies we’d seen recently and loved. What books moved us. Our favorite local restaurants. I quickly realized the impact of his being older than me—older and more well rounded. He’d tried a lot of food I’d never tasted before. He’d read authors I’d never heard of.

  I found myself taking out my phone and typing book titles in my notes app. Hearing him speak so passionately about these authors moved me. I wanted to read them and find that passion too. Give us something more to talk about next time.

  I wanted there to be a next time. Actually, I wanted tonight to just keep going. I could feel the edges of fatigue slipping in, but I stubbornly fought it back.

  When the waitress came by and cleared our plates, then left the bill, he insisted on paying. I tried to not read into it, to just think of it as a friendly gesture. To help reinforce that in my mind, I paid the tip, and we donned our coats and left the diner. Snow came down in huge, puffy flakes, coating the tops of our hair and shoulders. It was still dark out, though the darkness had taken on a soft gray edge.

  I glanced at my phone. It was five in the morning. I could hardly believe it. We’d sat up all night talking. And I still felt like I hadn’t reached the depths of his intellect, his knowledge. I craved more.

  One night wasn’t going to satisfy this itch.

  He tightened his scarf, and we walked toward my car. My heart sank, and I scrambled for an excuse to not go yet. Just a little more time. I saw a park right down the street.

  “Wanna walk for a little bit?” I asked with a nod in that direction.

  I saw the hesitation in his eyes. Was it because he was tired? Or because he was afraid of being alone with me, especially on a day that was laden with romantic expectations? Disappointment tightened my chest, and I felt my mouth turn down.

  “You know, that’s okay. I’ve already taken up enough of your evening,” I said in a quiet tone. I leaned back against my car door and stared at the ground, coated in a thick dusting of snow.

  “That’s not it,” he told me. His voice was rough, and I looked up to see his eyes hooded, staring over my shoulder. “I’m just questioning how smart it would be. I’ve already pushed the limits by asking you out tonight.”

  My breath came in small pants that puffed in the air between us. His gaze turned to mine, and I felt myself sinking into his eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “About that kiss. I should never have done that. I crossed a line, and it put something awkward here. I wish I could take it back.” The lie bit at me. “Actually, no, I’m not sorry,” I amended with brutal honesty, “even though I probably should be.”

  A slow smile spread across his face, and he took a step closer to me. “I love how you just say what’s on your mind. Your candidness is refreshing, Megan. And so rare.” His gaze dipped to my mouth, and I found myself trembling with a hunger that spread through me like warm honey.

  Kiss me, kiss me, I silently begged.

  He took my hand in his, wrapped my fingers in the heat of his palm and drew me across the street. We were silent, making our way down the sidewalk into the park. The hush of snow filled my ears. I felt like all my senses were hyperaware, tuned in to his frequency.

  I heard the soft rasps of his breath, caught light whiffs of his scent. His thumb stroked my skin and sent spirals of pleasure coursing through my lower belly, to my core.

  We padded through the snow to an overhang of trees above us, a perfect canopy that protected us from the falling flakes.

  Nick turned me to face him, cupped my face in his hands and drew me forward, a breath away from his mouth. “God, I shouldn’t want you,” he said, and the rawness in his voice nearly undid me. He was as hungry as I was, his anguish clear in the lines on his face, the near anger in his eyes. “I shouldn’t, but I do.”

  I stood there, body shaking with the agony of my feelings. “I want you too,” I said on an exhale. “So much. I can’t stop thinking about you.” My heart hurt because of how hard it was throbbing beneath my rib cage.

  Then his mouth was on mine, and my fingers were twined behind his neck. He pressed his body against me, and I went up in flames. I couldn’t get close enough. His tongue plunged into my mouth
, taking, seeking.

  His kiss owned me.

  I gasped and breathed him deeper. His hands slid down to cup my waist, bringing me flush against his arousal. He was hard. My nipples tightened as my breasts swelled. His mouth slid down to nibble at my jaw, suck the tender flesh at the base of my neck. I groaned, arched into him. I was dizzy, aching, throbbing all over.

  “Nick,” I said as I rubbed against him. I wanted those hands all over me.

  One hand cupped my ass and squeezed; I sighed in pleasure and let my fingers explore the contours of his neck, his jaw. I sucked his chin, his Adam’s apple, and I heard him give a loud moan. I was so wet now, my panties drenched. My body screamed my arousal.

  We kissed for I wasn’t sure how long, lost in each other, all that pent-up hunger spilling out with our tongues, our hands. Just kissing, but it was enough to drive me insane.

  Finally we parted, chests heaving. My face was flushed, my body burning, my mind floating. He reached a hand up and stroked my cheek with his thumb.

  “I know we shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “But I couldn’t go another ten minutes without tasting your mouth.”

  I sucked in a shaky breath and nodded. His words did something wicked to me.

  Nick seemed to gather himself then. He dropped his hand, stepped back. Smoothed his hair and offered me his hand. “Ready to head out of here? I’m sure you’re tired.”

  He escorted me to my car. Pressed another sweet, small kiss to my lips before standing back and watching me pull out of the diner’s parking lot. I drove home on autopilot. I felt like he’d invaded every part of me, even though we’d only kissed.

  When I made it home, I quietly slipped inside, stripped off my clothes and slid naked under my sheets. My last thought before falling asleep was of his smile when we’d pulled apart, beneath the trees.

  That hadn’t been the smile of a man who felt guilty or ashamed. Of a man who regretted his actions. No, it was the smile of a man who wanted to do it again.

  God, I wanted it too.

  Chapter 11

  Cryptography on Monday was a bit awkward. No way to get around that. Throughout class, Dallas had turned around and shot me a few looks that I could feel, though I’d kept my gaze locked on my open textbook. I had no idea what to say to him. He’d sent me a text on Valentine’s Day asking me what I was doing, but I hadn’t responded.

  Nick had sent me a few texts too, that same evening, to say hi and wish me a happy Valentine’s Day. I was so lucky Kelly hadn’t noticed my giddiness over it, or the way I’d ducked into the bathroom several times to send him replies. She must have thought I had a tiny bladder.

  “Dallas keeps looking at you,” Kelly whispered under her breath. “Want me to say something to him for you?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’ll handle it, but thanks.” I’d gone into more detail about the terrible date on Saturday while we were hanging out. But we’d actually spent most of the time just talking, eating ice cream and drinking wine, getting to know each other.

  Well, except for my occasional texts with Nick. Those had felt so deliciously bad. I wasn’t sure how to describe it except that he felt like forbidden fruit I couldn’t resist tasting. Even though I knew it was wrong to do so.

  “Maybe he wants to apologize,” she mused, talking out of the corner of her mouth as she looked straight ahead.

  Nick was discussing something, but truth be told, I wasn’t quite listening the way I should. I kept fixating on the curves of his mouth, trying to not burst into flames each time our eyes connected. I could tell he was thinking about me too. It was right there in his eyes. If we hadn’t spent the whole evening together talking, I might not have noticed it. He was good, professional.

  But I noted the way his gaze lingered on me. How his mouth turned up in the corners just a fraction. His words drawling off for a second or two, the air crackling between us despite the thirty feet or so separating us.

  Which drove me even crazier. Made every cell, every organ, every bone and vein and muscle on high alert for him.

  “—should give him a chance to,” Kelly was saying, and I snapped my attention to her words. The last thing I needed right now was to get busted checking out Nick.

  I looked at her, and she nodded toward Dallas.

  “Oh. Uh, yeah, I’ll talk to him later,” I promised.

  The rest of class flew by. Nick talked, and eventually the lecture drew me in. I didn’t know how he did it, but he made everything sound fascinating. His passion rang true. He wandered across the front of the room, hands waving in the air to punctuate his words. This was definitely a man who had teaching in his blood.

  “So I have your papers graded,” Nick was saying, and he started to chuckle when a few students groaned. “They’re not that bad, actually.” He paused. “They’re not all that good either.” His eyes twinkled as laughter burst out in the room. “I kid, I kid. On the whole, I’m quite happy with the effort you guys put into these. But if you don’t like your grade, don’t forget, you get one paper this semester to rewrite and turn in for a better score.”

  He turned around, scooped papers off his desk and wandered up and down the aisles to hand them out.

  When Kelly got hers, her face screwed up tight until she flipped to the last page to see her score. The tension leaked from her body. “B-plus. I’ll totally take it,” she said on a heavy, happy sigh.

  Dallas got his paper, and his back tightened when he eyed his last page. Obviously not a good sign.

  When my paper was handed to me, Nick’s fingers brushed mine. My nerves jumped in response, and I fumbled. But he moved back down the aisle away from me, cool as could be. I turned to my last page and saw my score.

  A-minus, with a paragraph of feedback.

  And a tiny line of coded text right beneath. I scanned it, trying to find the key to unlocking what he said—looked like it could be the same code he’d used that first time in email. My heart hammered in excitement. What did he write?

  “Hey, what’s that?” Kelly asked as she peered over my shoulder.

  Shit. My hand shook and I dropped the papers closed. “Oh. It’s nothing.”

  “Looked like a code to me.”

  I waved my hand in an attempt to look casual. “In my . . . feedback, he said I was too narrow and simple with my coding examples, so I guess he gave me one to show me how complex they can be.”

  She looked at me for a moment, brow furrowed. Her eyes seemed hesitant. “Well, that was kinda weird.”

  I tried to give an easy shrug, though I was very nervous. Shit, I was blowing this. Think smarter, I ordered myself. “Yeah, he’s not your typical teacher. Maybe he was just showing off how smart he is or something.” My chest stung as I said this, but the statement worked.

  She nodded and rolled her eyes. “Totally. Sometimes they do that kind of crap. To prove why they have their jobs or whatever. Ugh, I hate that.”

  Relief whooshed through me. I tucked the paper underneath my notebook and turned all my attention to taking notes for our homework. I was going to have to be careful. I couldn’t give away what had happened between us. And crazy or not, I didn’t want it to stop.

  I wanted to look at the note again, but I knew that would be dumb. The anticipation was killing me though. When he dismissed us, I noticed his eyes raked over mine once before he got his stuff together and left the room.

  The tension in my back unknotted a touch. I tucked my stuff in my backpack.

  “Okay, I’ll talk to you later!” Kelly said. She gave me a quick hug, then left.

  I was all set to escape myself when Dallas suddenly stepped in my path. Frustration made me dance from foot to foot. I so didn’t want to do this right now—I wanted to find a private corner to read Nick’s secret message.

  “Megan,” he said in a gruff voice. His cheeks grew red. “How was your weekend? I sent you a couple of texts but didn’t hear from you.”

  “Sorry, I was hanging out with Kelly,” I offered. “I gotta
go. Maybe I can catch you another time—”

  “I just needed to say something,” he persisted, not moving away.

  I sighed and stood in place. Apparently it wasn’t going to be an easy escape. “Okay, what?”

  “I . . . feel like things didn’t go that well on Friday,” he started. Cleared his throat and played with the neckline of his sweater. “I had a good time, but I don’t drink a lot and I know it made me a bit awkward. But I was just so nervous. . . .”

  “It’s fine, I get it,” I said, knowing I sounded abrupt but unable to be more patient. I was frustrated that he was forcing this on me right now when I didn’t want to talk about it. On his terms, not on mine. Kinda made it hard to warm up to his words.

  “Oh. Okay.” His shoulders loosened. “So I was thinking I could take you out again, to make it up to you.”

  My stomach sank. “That’s not necessary,” I said slowly, “but thanks for the offer.”

  “I mean, it’s not just out of obligation. I’d like a do-over.” Sincerity poured from his eyes.

  I drew in a slow breath. Exhaled. “Dallas.”

  “Just one more chance,” he pressed. “I know I messed it up.”

  I rested a hand on his upper arm. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think this is a good idea. But thank you for talking to me. And for the date Friday.” That was as gentle as I could be. Hopefully he would get the point without me having to be a jerk.

  No, I didn’t like Dallas. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings though. It was obvious he was on edge, from the tips of his red ears to the way he kept swallowing.

  “Oh. I see.” He stepped away out of my reach, and my hand dropped. His face stiffened and he turned away from me. “I’ll see you later then.” His movements were mechanical as he gathered his belongings and went right out the door without looking back.

  I tried to not feel bad for stinging his pride, hurting his feelings. I was alone in the room now, and the matter of the code was gnawing away at the back of my head. So I took the paper out and flipped to the last page.