Page 15 of Say You Want Me
She just stood there, jaw tight, and then she turned toward the door with the brass nameplate that readProfessor Charlotte Reidand slid a key into the lock. The click of the deadbolt retracting sounded impossibly loud in the quiet hall.
“Well,” Taylor said, and the word came out flatter than she intended, edged with something that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I guess that answers my question.”
Charlotte pushed the door open and gestured inside. Her hand was steady, but Taylor caught the way her fingers curled too tightly around the edge of the door, the knuckles blanching. “Please. Come in.”
The professionalism in her voice hit Taylor like a sharp shove. Three months ago, that same voice had been ragged against Taylor’s throat, begging for more. Now it was calibrated to the exact temperature of a faculty meeting.
Taylor walked past her into the office, close enough to catch the familiar scent of Charlotte’s perfume again, and the collision of then and now made her stomach tilt. The sensation was like stepping off a curb in the dark and finding the ground two inches lower than expected, that same sudden drop, that same jolt up through the knees.
The office was exactly what she would’ve expected from someone like Charlotte, and the realization made Taylor’s skin prickle. Bookshelves lined two walls, crammed with textbooks and journals, the spines arranged with a precision that bordered on compulsive. A small potted plant sat on the windowsill, its leaves glossy and well-tended. Framed diplomas hung behind the desk, and Taylor’s eyes snagged on them despite herself.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Taylor didn’t sit. She turned in the middle of the room, her arms crossed tight over her chest, and watched Charlotte move toward the desk with the stiff, deliberate gait of someone forcing herself forward one step at a time. The briefcase landed on her desk with a soft thump. Charlotte pulled out the chair behind the desk and lowered herself into it, her movements controlled a little too carefully, like if she loosened her grip for one second she’d fall apart.
Terror sat in the tightness around her eyes.
It was subtle. Taylor had to give her that.
Charlotte’s face was composed, her posture erect, but her gaze kept flicking to the door and back, and the pulse at the base of her throat was beating hard enough Taylor could see it from across the desk. Those eyes that had looked at Taylor with such raw hunger were now flickering with something closer to panic.
Taylor’s frustration crested. Heat gathered at the back of her neck. This woman had spent hours exploring every inch of her body with her mouth. This woman had made her come so many times she’d lost count, had held her afterward with a tendernessthat had made Taylor’s chest ache, had looked at her like she was something special. And then this same woman had vanished before sunrise.
And now she was sitting behind a desk like they were strangers.
It was so hard to comprehend.
Taylor dropped into the chair across from her. She didn’t bother crossing her legs or folding her hands in her lap.
“You’re enrolled here,” Charlotte said. It wasn’t a question, not really, but there was a tremor underneath the words, a thin crack in the professional veneer.
“I transferred from my local community college,” Taylor said. “I just got here this morning, actually. So I’m a bit behind. I wanted to meet each of my professors before classes really got going. Explain why I missed the first week, introduce myself properly.” Taylor heard how absurd the sentence sounded once it left her mouth. “Obviously, this conversation won’t be like the other ones I’ve had today.”
Charlotte’s throat worked again with another tight swallow. The top button of her blouse sat open, just enough for Taylor to catch the pale line of her collarbone, and the sight sent a current straight down through Taylor’s stomach that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with memory. She hated her own body a little for that.
“No,” Charlotte said, her voice barely louder than the hum of the air conditioning.
“I’m in your class,” Taylor said, pulling at the hem of her sleeveless black top. “Psychology of Interpersonal Relationships. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, apparently.”
Charlotte’s spine locked as if something had snapped into place. “I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I promise to treat you the same as every other one of my students. Please don’t ever doubt that.”
The fear radiating off Charlotte was almost tangible. Charlotte wasn’t just trying to cover her tracks. She was terrified. Her career, her standing, everything she’d built in this building was hanging by a thread, and she thought Taylor held the scissors.
The sharp edge of Taylor’s anger began to shift into something quieter. She’d moved here to earn a degree and get into social work, not to burn someone else’s world to the ground. Being bitter about a three-month-old one-night stand wouldn’t get her through her senior year.
She needed to be an adult here.
“I believe you,” Taylor said, keeping her tone level, stripped of the bite that had been there a moment ago. “And you don’t have to worry about me. Your secret is safe. What happened at the coast stays at the coast.”
Charlotte blinked, her eyes softening as she let out a long breath. Her shoulders dropped an inch, the rigid posture finally giving way.
“Thank you,” Charlotte said, her voice thick with genuine relief. She lowered her gaze, her fingers reaching up to touch the delicate silver necklace at her collarbone. “I’m sorry, Taylor. I’m so sorry for this whole situation. And... for how I left that morning.” She swallowed. “It was cowardly, and you didn’t deserve it.”
The cool air from the overhead vent drifted over Taylor’s bare arms, prickling the skin exposed by her sleeveless black top. Hearing Charlotte actually say the words, acknowledging the ghosting, calling it cowardly, pulled a sharp, tight sting from deep inside Taylor’s chest, leaving a hollow ache where her anger had been.
“It hurt,” Taylor said, keeping her tone grounded and steady. “I’m not going to pretend it didn’t.”
Charlotte closed her eyes for a brief second.
