Dear Professor(55)
It wasn’t that I hated talking about him. On the contrary, I didn’t mind. I loved him. I’d never forget the pain of that night, but I’d moved on now. I’d carved out a new life for myself. One he might not have been proud of completely, but I knew he’d want me to be happy. And happy I was.
Mostly. But was anyone really entirely happy? I didn’t know. I doubted it.
I took a deep breath and let go of the sting that hurt my heart. I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t dwell on him or the day it had all gone wrong. He wouldn’t want me to think of that.
I opened my laptop again and brought my e-mail up. Focusing on the situation at hand made it easier for me to move on from the thoughts of Griffin. My stomach fluttered as I opened a new draft and hit the J key.
To: jkeat@gmail.com
From: darcy_h345@gmail.com
Subject: I’m sorry.
Dear Professor,
I overstepped the boundaries. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I understand if this changes things.
Xoxo, Darcy.
My mouse hovered over the send button for a moment before I bit the bullet and clicked it. I’d never know unless I got on with it, after all.
It wasn’t a lie. I did understand—I knew that my questioning might have ruined all of this and made my attempts at some kind of revenge futile.
The worst part of this was that I still wanted to dig. I wanted to know more about him. Obviously, his wife was such a sore subject that holding that over his head would be too cruel, even for me.#p#分页标题#e#
A part of me was telling me to give up, warring with the other half that wanted me to carry on. But what if I messed this up again? The easy solution really was just to coast through the next several weeks, take my letter, and move on.
My phone buzzed beneath my pillow, and when I reached over for it, I noticed the green blinking light at the top. Apprehension flooded my bloodstream as I saw that the message was from Jordan, but I forced myself to open it.
To: darcy_h345@gmail.com
From: jkeat@gmail.com
Subject: Sorry.
Darcy,
I owe you an apology also. I’d like to explain myself if you’re free.
J
To: jkeat@gmail.com
From: darcyh_345@gmail.com
Subject: Accepted.
Dear Professor,
I’m free… Name and the time and the place.
Xoxo, Darcy.
To: darcyh_345@gmail.com
From: jkeat@gmail.com
Subject: Now.
Darcy,
Pete’s Diner off tollway downtown. You know it?
J
To: jkeat@gmail.com
From: darcyh_345@gmail.com
Subject: Yep.
Dear Professor,
See you there.
Xoxo, Darcy.
I pulled up in the parking lot of Pete’s Diner and cut the engine. I recognized Jordan’s SUV instantly.
It wasn’t until I got out of the car that I realized that this was kind of risky. Then again, it was no riskier than his spanking me in his classroom between lessons, so what did I know?
I clutched my purse to my stomach and walked toward the diner. It was nothing special—nothing greater than your typical roadside diner with greasy food and super-fizzy soda. Judging by the majority of the vehicles in the parking lot, it was a trucker’s haven.
Maybe there was something to this after all.
I pushed the door open and was immediately assaulted by the distinct smell of fried food. The air actually smelled like grease, thick and oily, but that didn’t stop my stomach from rumbling as the scent of burgers and fries cut through that.
Oh, man. I was hungry.
I paused inside the door and looked around, hoping to see Jordan. When I couldn’t, I approached the counter only to have someone step up behind me and touch their hand to my back. I jumped, and my hand flew to my chest despite the familiarity.
“Oh God,” I half gasped, staring up into Jordan’s bright eyes.
“Sorry.” He smirked. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Hmm. I’m starting to not believe you.”
He laughed quietly. “I have a table. Do you want to sit down?”
“No. I thought I’d eat standing up.”
“I see you brought your sass today.”
“It’s my DNA. What can I say?” I slid into the booth’s leather seat and grabbed a menu.
Jordan adjusted the sleeves of his checkered shirt until they rested above his elbows and sat opposite me. “I’m absolutely sure you’re right.” His lips twitched to one side, and I saw his smile reflected in his eyes.
Butterflies fluttered low in my tummy. I held his gaze for a second longer before I dropped my eyes to the menu and focused on that instead. My stomach wasn’t supposed to be fluttering. There shouldn’t have been butterflies.
That wasn’t how this worked.
Yet there they were, stirring up a storm.