Chapter 290
**Sara**
I lounged on Tom's ridiculously comfortable bed, sipping what had to be the best coffee I'd ever tasted. His fancy machine really was worth moving in for.
"You know your flight's not until seven, right?" I watched him meticulously fold another designer shirt. The man had more clothes than my entire friend group combined.
"I like being prepared." He held up two nearly identical blue ties. "Which one?"
"They're exactly the same."
"They are not. This one's cerulean and this is azure." He looked genuinely offended.
"Oh my god, you're worse than Jessica. Next, you'll tell me there's a difference between salmon and coral."
"There is, actually-"
"Nope." I cut him off, setting my coffee on the nightstand. "I refuse to date a man who knows more color names than I do. It's emasculating."
Tom raised an eyebrow. "So we're dating now?"
Heat crept up my neck. "I meant- you know what I meant."
"Do I?" He smirked, dropping both ties into his suitcase. "Because I distinctly remember someone insisting this was just casual fun."
"Shouldn't you be focusing on your very important packing?" I grabbed my coffee again, hiding behind the mug.
"I am." He held up two pairs of shoes. "Oxford or loafer?"
"Those are the same shoe."
"They absolutely are not-"
"Take both!" I flopped back against his pillows. "Take all of them. Pack your entire closet. Just please stop asking me to differentiate between fifty shades of business casual."
Tom chuckled, carefully placing both pairs in his suitcase. "Someone's grumpy this morning."
"I'm not grumpy." I crossed my arms. "You're just wasting our last morning together comparing fifty identical blue ties instead of paying attention to me."
"Last morning?" Tom abandoned his suitcase and crawled onto the bed. "You make it sound like I'm going off to war, not a business trip."
"Same thing. You'll probably fall in love with some Australian supermodel who knows the difference between cerulean and whatever the other one was."
He pinched my side. "Azure. And the only supermodel I'm interested in is this grumpy little MBA grad who's currently hogging all my pillows."
"I am not little." I kicked at him halfheartedly. "Or grumpy. I'm just thinking about all the wild parties I can throw in your apartment while you're gone."
"Oh really?" His eyes narrowed. "Planning to trash my place, are you?"
"Absolutely." I stretched out luxuriously across his bed. "I'm thinking a massive rave. Hundreds of people. Maybe I'll even invite some of your students."
"You wouldn't dare." He loomed over me, but I could see the amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Oh, I would. Complete chaos. Red cups everywhere. Maybe even - gasp - feet on your precious leather couch."
"I need this apartment spotless when I return, Miss Parker." His voice dropped into that Professor's tone, which usually made me shiver, but I was having too much fun.
"Nope. You'll come back to find pizza boxes stacked to the ceiling. And I might reorganize your ties by pattern instead of color. Pure anarchy."
"Is that so?" His fingers found my sides, and I squealed.
"Stop! No fair!" I twisted away from his tickling, but he followed. "Tom!"
"Take it back." He continued his assault while I squirmed and laughed. "Say you'll keep my apartment clean."
"Never!" I gasped between giggles. "Okay, okay! I give up! I'll keep your precious apartment pristine."
He stopped tickling but kept me pinned beneath him. "That's better. See? This is why bad students need good professors - to keep them in line."
I grinned at him, my heart racing from the tickle attack. "Oh, so now I'm a bad student? I seem to remember getting excellent grades in your class, Professor."
"Grades aren't everything." His fingers traced along my ribs, threatening another tickle. "Some students need extra tutoring in other areas."
"Like what?" I squirmed beneath him, trying to escape his wandering hands. "Proper tie organization? The subtle differences between navy and midnight blue?"
Tom's eyes darkened. "More like respect for authority. Proper behavior. Following instructions."
"Following instructions?" I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I thought you liked it when I misbehaved."
"There's a time and place for everything." His lips brushed against my neck. "Right now, I think you need a lesson in manners."
"Do I?" I tilted my head, giving him better access. "What exactly would that lesson entail?"
"Well, first-" He nipped at my earlobe. "You need to learn patience."
I huffed out a laugh. "Says the man who's been trying to pack the same suitcase for two hours."
"Second-" His hand slid down my thigh. "You need to work on your attitude."
"My attitude is perfect, thank you very much."
Tom pulled back, raising an eyebrow. "Case in point."
"Fine." I put on my best innocent student expression. "Please teach me how to be good, Professor Blackwood."
He groaned, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. "You're impossible."
"That's not a very professional language, sir. I thought you were supposed to be teaching me manners?"
Tom's eyes darkened as he looked down at me. "Keep talking like that, and neither of us will leave this bed today." His fingers traced patterns on my hip. "And I really need to pack."
"You've been 'packing' for hours." I made air quotes with my fingers. "At this rate, you'll miss your flight entirely."
"And whose fault is that?" He pressed a quick kiss to my lips. "Someone keeps distracting me with her terrible attitude and complete disregard for the difference between cerulean and azure."
"Oh no, how will I ever make it up to you?" I batted my eyelashes dramatically. "Should I write 'I will not disrespect color theory' a hundred times on the blackboard?"
"Don't tempt me." He kissed me again, deeper this time, before reluctantly pulling away. "But if I don't finish packing now, I really will miss my flight."
I pouted as he climbed off the bed. "Fine. Go organize your sock drawer by thread count or whatever it is you do."
"They're organized by material and thickness, actually." He ducked as I threw a pillow at his head. "And that's exactly the kind of behavior that needs correcting, Miss Parker."
"You'll have to catch me first." I sprawled across his bed, deliberately messing up his perfectly arranged pillows. "Oh look, chaos."
Tom shook his head, fighting a smile as he returned to his suitcase. "Just wait until I get back. We'll see who's laughing then."
"Is that a promise or a threat?"
"Both." He winked at me before returning to his meticulous packing, leaving me to wonder exactly what I'd gotten myself into.
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