Chapter 184
**Sara**
I shifted my weight, wondering if I should follow Tom when a striking woman detached herself from a nearby group.
"Sara, right?" She tilted her head. "I'm Natalie. You look familiar..."
"Oh?"
"The pub on Fifth Street, maybe three or four months ago?" Her perfectly shaped eyebrows drew together in concentration as she studied my face. I watched as recognition slowly dawned in her dark eyes. "I swear I've seen you there."
"I, uh..." Heat crept up my neck. That was the night I'd gotten spectacularly drunk and ended up at Tom's place. "Possibly?"
Natalie's red lips curved into a knowing smile. "We've all been there. Tom played knight in shining armor, didn't he? Such a gentleman, making sure you got home safe."
I laughed, praying my face wasn't as red as it felt. "Something like that."
"Here you go." Tom appeared at my side, pressing a crystal tumbler into my hand. The amber liquid caught the light. "Figured you'd want whiskey."
I took a sip, letting the smoky liquid warm my throat. "Thanks. How'd you know whiskey was my drink?"
"Lucky guess." Tom winked, his shoulder brushing against mine.
"So..." Natalie swirled her martini, her eyes darting between us. "Are you two...?"
"Friends," Tom said quickly. Maybe too quickly.
"Just friends," I echoed, taking another sip of whiskey to hide my smile.
"Really?" Natalie's perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched. "Because you two look awfully cozy for 'just friends.'"
I nearly choked on my drink. "We-"
"Oh please," she waved her hand dismissively. "The way you're practically attached at the hip? The lingering looks? Either you're dating, or you should be."
Tom cleared his throat. "Natalie-"
"What? I'm just saying what everyone's thinking." She gestured with her glass toward the rest of the room. "You two are good together. There's this... spark."
"Spark?" I squeaked.
"Mhmm. Like right now - you're both blushing. It's adorable."
"I am not blushing," Tom protested, though his ears had turned pink.
"Sure." Natalie patted his arm. "And I'm not on my fourth martini."
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. The whiskey started warming my insides, making everything feel lighter and funnier.
"You know what?" Natalie drained her martini. "You two are absolutely perfect together. Those matching shy smiles, the way you lean into each other without realizing it..." She gestured between us with her empty glass. "It's like watching a real-life rom-com, minus the dramatic airport chase scene."
"There will be no airport chase scenes," Tom said firmly.
"Not yet, anyway." Natalie winked at me. "Give it time. If you'll excuse me, I need another drink before Isabella corners me about her latest charity gala."
As she sashayed away, Tom let out a breath. "Well, that was..."
"Intense? Terrifying? Surprisingly accurate?"
"I was going to say 'typical Natalie,' but those work too."
The party blurred into a kaleidoscope of designer outfits and expensive drinks. Andrew gave an impromptu tour of his "humble abode," including a meditation room with floating crystals.
"And this," Andrew waved his hand with a flourish, "is where I realign my chakras every morning."
I blinked at the crystals hovering mid-air, suspended by what I assumed was some high-tech magnetic field. The room glowed with soft purple light, and the air smelled like expensive incense.
"That's... something," I managed, clutching my fourth (fifth?) whiskey.
"The crystals are imported from Tibet," Andrew continued, completely missing my bewilderment. "Each one vibrates at exactly the right frequency to-"
"Andrew, darling," a willowy blonde I'd forgotten the name of cut in. "Tell them about the smart toilet."
"Oh yes! You haven't seen the master bathroom yet-"
"Maybe another time," Tom interrupted smoothly. "Sara and I should get going."
Thank god. My feet were killing me, and if I had to hear one more story about Andrew's tech-enabled meditation practices, I might scream.
The goodbyes took forever - air kisses, promises to get together soon, more air kisses. I noticed Isabella hanging back, barely acknowledging our departure with a slight nod.
As we stepped outside, the night air hit me like a splash of cold water. I kicked off my heels when we reached Tom's car, sighing in relief.
"Did Isabella seem weird to you?" I asked as Tom opened my door. "She barely said two words all night."
Tom slid into the driver's seat, loosening his tie. "Maybe she was jealous."
"Jealous? Of what? My Target earrings next to her Cartier everything?"
"Of you. With me."
"Oh." I turned to face him. "Aww, is someone feeling bad for their ex-hookup? Should we go back so you can console her?"
"Sara..." He shot me a look.
"What? I'm just saying if you're worried about her feelings..." I batted my eyelashes dramatically. "Maybe you should go give her a nice, friendly hug. Tell her there are plenty of fish in the sea-"
"You're impossible." But he was fighting a smile.
"Or better yet, let's invite her for coffee! We can all share stories about how good you are in-"
Tom's hand clamped over my mouth. "Finish that sentence, and I'm making you walk home."
I licked his palm.
"Gross!" He yanked his hand back, wiping it on his pants. "What are you, five?"
"Says the man who just tried to silence me like a toddler." I stuck my tongue out at him. "And for the record, I wasn't going to say anything inappropriate. I was going to say 'how good you are in faculty meetings.'"
"Sure you were." He started the car, shaking his head.
I watched the city lights blur past my window, still buzzing from the whiskey and the surreal evening. The silence stretched between us, comfortable but charged with something else.
"Actually..." Tom cleared his throat. "Isabella did talk to me tonight."
"What?" I turned to face him. "When? I didn't see you two chat at all."
"When you were busy gawking at Andrew's ridiculous mansion. You know, during the part where he explained how his shower has automated water pressure."
"Hey! I wasn't gawking. I was appreciating the architecture." I crossed my arms. "So what did Miss Perfect want?"
"She asked if I was dating anyone."
My stomach dropped. "And?"
"I said no."
"Oh, fantastic." I slumped in my seat. "So when's the wedding? Should I buy a bridesmaid dress now or-"
"Sara." Tom's hand found my knee. "She tried to proposition me. I turned her down."
"Tried to. What exactly did she say?"
"Something about remembering how good we were together and wanting to recreate old memories."
"That bitch!" I sat up straight. "I swear to god, Tom if you're planning some secret hookup with her-"
"I'm not."
"Because I will literally murder you both. Like, actual murder. They'll never find the bodies."
Tom laughed. "You're cute when you're jealous."
"I am not jealous! I just don't appreciate some Gucci-wearing mantis trying to steal my..." I trailed off, realizing I didn't know how to finish that sentence.
"Your what?" His voice was teasing.
"My professor." I huffed. "Go ahead, hook up with her if you want. She probably has silk sheets and drinks champagne for breakfast."
"I don't want Isabella."
"Why not? She's clearly into you. Rich, sophisticated, probably knows all the right wine pairings. You two make so much more sense together."
"Sara..." Tom pulled the car over, turning to face me. "Stop."
"No, really. You're both from that world." I gestured vaguely at the mansion behind us. "She understands your lifestyle, your family expectations. I'm just some student who shops at Target and thinks expensive wine tastes like fancy grape juice."
"You're not 'just' anything." His hand found mine. "And I don't care about wine pairings or designer labels."
"But-"
"I want you." His voice was soft but firm. "Just you. With your Target earrings, terrible whiskey jokes, and how you stick your tongue out when annoyed with me."
"I do not stick my tongue out."
"You literally did it ten minutes ago."
Heat crept up my neck. "That was different. You were being impossible."
"See? That's what I want. Someone real. Someone who challenges me, makes me laugh, and doesn't care about impressing people with floating crystals."
"Those crystals were pretty cool."
Tom's thumb traced circles on my palm. "You're deflecting."
"Maybe." I bit my lip. "It's just... this thing between us? It's complicated. And Isabella would be so much easier."
"When have I ever chosen the easy path?" His eyes locked with mine. "I want complicated. I want you."
I sucked in a breath, my heart hammering against my ribs. "You can't just say things like that."
"Why not?" His hand slid up my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
"Because..." I struggled to remember why this was a bad idea as his fingers traced my collarbone. "Because you're my professor, and I'm your student and-"
"For one more month." His breath tickled my ear. "Then you're just Sara Parker."
"And you'll still be Thomas Blackwood, billionaire professor who could have anyone he wants."
"I don't want anyone." His lips brushed my neck. "I want the girl who drunk-texted me cat memes at 3 AM."
"That was one time!" I protested. "And they were adorable cats."
"The girl who threatened to murder me over Isabella."
"I didn't threaten murder. I just suggested the possibility of bodies disappearing."
"The girl who's still arguing with me when I'm trying to seduce her."
"Oh, is that what this is? I thought you were just- oh!" His teeth grazed my pulse point.
"Still want to argue?"
"Maybe." But my hands were already tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. "What happened to being a responsible professor?"
"Fuck responsible." His mouth crashed into mine, hot and demanding.
I moaned as his tongue swept past my lips, tasting of expensive whiskey and bad decisions.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
