Page 218 of The Professor's Wife

This was the strangest encounter I’d ever experienced, and I was enjoying every second of it.

Honestly, what the fuck?

“You can smoke,” I finally uttered, shrugging. “It’s a public space—”

“I was being a dick,” he cut in. “You got here first.”

“Well, thanks. I won’t be standing here for long.”

Then again, Oliver was now laughing, and so was Angela. They were having fun together. Good for them. Though she really needed rescuing, my legs didn’t budge.

“I don’t even like smoking,” he said next as he pocketed the lighter again. He looked a little edgy, his eyes glancing towardme and then back down the street. He worked his jaw, and I could feel his ugly thoughts. I had a feeling this man was a loose cannon. That he was at the mercy of those ugly thoughts and feelings.

It was another form of prison, and I knew it all too well.

My face gentled. I said softly, “We don’t always choose our addictions. Sometimes you make one mistake, and it chooses you.”

His eyes were still hard when he looked at me, but his voice was spine-tinglingly soft when he replied, “I lost someone. You’re right. I’m angry and I…”

The words trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish.

I blinked, unsure how to respond to that. I thought of the person who had hurt him, and my throat bobbed with emotion. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be.”

My heart dipped sadly. “I know what it’s like, and I know you’d give anything to change things.”

He swallowed thickly and stiffened a nod. He didn’t speak for a few moments.

“I didn’t know what drew me here, but I listened to my gut, and I think I’m getting closer to finding out why.”

He looked up at the sky, and my eyes trailed his thick throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He was absolutely mesmerizing. I had to look up at the sky just to stop staring shamelessly at him. I wanted to ask him about what he said, but he sounded like he was hurting and rambling, and I didn’t want to get too personal like before.

“I tried to get lost in the stars just a few minutes ago, but there’s no magic here,” I said instead.

“It’s loud, too,” he returned. “I miss the quiet.”

“You sound like a small-town boy.”

His smirk made my heart clench. “I am.”

“No wonder you wear your heart on your sleeve,” I joked. “You small-towners and your big hearts.”

He chuckled, and my stomach tightened. “We’re big in a lot of ways.”

I rolled my eyes, my lips spreading wide. “I practically asked for that, didn’t I?”

“I have a feeling you’re not as well-mannered as you look.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. The feeling was beautiful in my chest. My cheeks burned as I said, “I have a feeling you’re still holding back.”

“I could have been more vulgar, but I’m in the presence of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, so I’m reining it in.”

I couldn’t look at him now. Speechless, I forgot to breathe. I should have felt warning bells. Something to tell me he was being sleazy and disingenuous, but there was nothing but pure fire in my chest and a sudden thirst for more of his presence.

I snuck a look at him. He was still looking up at the sky, appearing thoughtful, his expression soft. But then his brows came together, and he looked suddenly perplexed.

“You feel that?”