Chapter 51
**Sara**
We got out of the car and headed into my building. The elevator ride up to my floor was silent, but not uncomfortably so. It was more... anticipatory. Like we were both holding our breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
As I fumbled with my keys at the door, I suddenly remembered the state I'd left my apartment in. "Uh, fair warning," I said as I pushed the door open, "it's a bit of a mess. I wasn't exactly expecting company."
Tom followed me inside, his eyes scanning the small space. "It's... cozy," he said diplomatically.
"That's a nice way of saying it looks like a tornado hit it."
His eyes roamed over the space. I followed his gaze and felt a flush creep up my neck as I noticed the mountain of clothes draped over my couch. It looked like my closet had vomited all over the living room.
"Oh god," I groaned, rushing to gather the mess. "I swear I'm not usually this messy. I was just... trying on outfits earlier."
As I scooped up armfuls of clothes, a lacy red bra slipped from the pile and landed at Tom's feet. I froze, mortified, as he bent to pick it up.
"I believe this is yours," he said, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he dangled the bra from one finger.
I snatched it from him, my face burning. "Thanks," I mumbled, quickly adding it to the pile in my arms. "I'll just... put these away."
I scurried to my bedroom, my arms overflowing with the jumble of clothes, and unceremoniously dumped the entire mess onto my bed. I smoothed down my hair and straightened my dress before reluctantly returning to the living room. Tom was still standing there.
"Right," I said, clapping my hands together. "Tea. I promised tea."
I bustled into the kitchen, grateful for something to do with my hands. As I filled the kettle and set it to boil, I could hear Tom moving around the living room.
"Make yourself at home," I called over my shoulder. "There are some books on the shelf if you want something to read."
I busied myself with mugs and tea bags, trying to calm my racing heart. It was just tea, I reminded myself. Nothing more.
"Interesting reading material you've got here," Tom's voice drifted from the living room, a hint of amusement in his tone.
"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual as I turned to face him.
Tom was standing by my bookshelf, a familiar-looking paperback in his hand. My stomach dropped as I recognized the cover - a shirtless man embracing a swooning woman in a low-cut dress. Crap.
"Didn't peg you for a romance novel enthusiast," he said, flipping through the pages with an amused grin.
I hurried over, snatching the book from his hands. "Those are... old," I stammered, feeling my face heat up. "I don't really read them anymore."
"Oh?" Tom raised an eyebrow, reaching for another book on the shelf. "This one looks pretty new to me."
I glanced at the book he was holding and felt my heart skip a beat. It was "Lessons in Love" - a steamy novel about a college student falling for her professor. Of all the books he could have picked up, it had to be that one.
"That's, uh... that's not mine," I lied unconvincingly. "It's my roommate's."
"You don't have a roommate, Sara."
"Right. I meant... my friend left it here. Yeah, that's it."
"Mhm," he hummed, clearly not buying it. He opened the book, reading the back cover. "'A forbidden romance between a passionate student and her irresistible professor.' Sounds... familiar."
"Okay, fine. Yes, I read them. Happy now?"
Tom smiled, setting the book back on the shelf. "Nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone has their guilty pleasures."
"Yeah, well, most people's guilty pleasures don't involve their actual professor finding their stash of erotic novels," I muttered.
"True," he conceded. "But then again, most students don't invite their professors for tea, either."
I looked up at him, suddenly aware of how close we were standing. The air between us felt charged, like static electricity before a storm.
"About that tea..." I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
I tore my eyes away from Tom's intense gaze and scurried back to the kitchen, grateful for the distraction.
"Right, tea," I heard Tom say behind me huskily.
I busied myself with the kettle, which had started whistling insistently. My hands shook slightly as I poured the hot water into two mugs, the steam rising in lazy spirals.
"Milk? Sugar?" I called over my shoulder, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Just a splash of milk, thanks."
I added milk to our mugs and then carried them carefully back to the living room. Tom had settled on my couch, looking far too comfortable for my peace of mind.
"Here you go," I said, handing him a mug. Our fingers brushed as he took it, sending electricity up my arm.
"Thanks," he murmured, his eyes never leaving mine.
I sat on the other end of the couch, tucking my legs under me and clutching my mug like a lifeline. We sipped our tea in silence, the air thick with unspoken tension.
Tom broke the silence. "So, about those novels..."
"Can we please forget about those?"
"Oh, I don't think so," he smiled. "Not after how much you teased me earlier about Erotic Encounters. Turnabout's fair play, Sara."
I peeked at him over the rim of my mug. "Fine. Go ahead, get it out of your system."
"Tell me, when you're reading these... steamy stories... do you ever imagine your dashing professor as the male lead?"
"What? No! Of course not!" I spluttered, my face burning.
"Really? Not even a little?"
I set my mug down on the coffee table with a little more force than necessary. "Okay, first of all, I bought that book before I knew you existed. And second, I haven't even read it yet!"
"Ah, but you were planning to," he teased.
"That's... that's not the point," I stammered, flustered.
Tom laughed. "Relax, Sara. I'm just teasing you."
I huffed, crossing my arms. "Well, it's not funny."
"Oh, I beg to differ. The look on your face right now is hilarious."
I grabbed a throw pillow and chucked it at his head. He caught it easily, still laughing.
"You're impossible," I grumbled, but I could feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
"And you're adorable when flustered," he shot back.
I felt my cheeks burn even hotter at his words. "I'm not adorable," I protested weakly.
"Oh, but you are," Tom insisted, setting his mug on the coffee table. "Especially when you're all riled up like this."
I huffed, trying to maintain my indignation, but it was hard with him looking at me like that. "I'm not riled up," I lied.
"No?" He raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you blushing?"
"It's... it's just warm in here," I stammered.
"Is it now? Maybe we should cool you down a bit."
Before I could react, he pulled me onto his lap. I let out a surprised squeak, instinctively grabbing his shoulders for balance.
"There," he said, his arms wrapping around my waist. "Isn't this better?"
I was acutely aware of every point where our bodies touched. The heat of his skin seemed to seep through my clothes, tingling my nerves.
My breath caught in my throat as I shifted slightly, feeling the unmistakable hardness pressing against my thigh. Oh God, I thought, my cheeks burning even hotter. I could feel him growing harder by the second, and the realization sent a jolt of electricity through my body. I bit my lip, trying to maintain some semblance of composure, but it was nearly impossible with his arousal so evident beneath me.
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