My eyes widen in shock. "What? Why would you say that?"
"Because I've basically been crying over my dead sister for six years when your brother died just months ago."
"Everyone grieves differently and there's definitely no timetable." I give her a sincere look. "You either heal and move on, or you learn how to hide it better as time wears on."
"I'm really not that good at hiding it. If I didn't get to paint, I-I don't know. I'd be a mess."
I take a step closer, much too close, closer than I should, but I can't help myself. I bring a hand to her cheek and rub the pad of my thumb softly over her smooth skin. "We can be a mess together if that helps."
My eyes are drawn to her mouth as she pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth. I want to pin her up against the wall and kiss those feisty cherry lips until they bruise. I want those smooth, long legs wrapped tightly around me while she's wearing those bright red incredible fuck-me heels. I want to feel her nails dig into my back as her moans release into my mouth. And I want her to not be my student so I can do all of those things to her...
She covers my hand with hers, and for a moment, I'm afraid she's going to pull it off, but she doesn't. She pushes deeper into my hand and closes her eyes. "I miss her. Every day." She inhales slowly, keeping her eyes shut. "Every damn day I feel broken and that I'll never feel whole again."
I can hear the pain in her voice, and it nearly breaks me.
How can someone so beautiful and so gifted bear so much pain? She's an oddity in my eyes, and every part of her pain has obviously contributed to how she expresses it on paper.
"I'd like to say I don't understand, but I understand too well." She releases my hand and it falls back to my side, feeling cold the moment it loses contact with hers.
"Were you two close?" she asks, and I hear the genuine interest in her voice, but my jaw ticks at the thought of how I have to answer that.
"When we grew up, we were really close. But we weren't for a really long time." Saying it aloud hurts more than I had anticipated. She looks at me with sincerity, and for some reason makes me feel safe in telling her. "We hadn't talked in a really long time."
"Five years?" she asks.
My brows knit together in question. "Yeah," I breathe out. "How'd you know?"
She shrugs. "Lucky guess." She lets out a low, sweet chuckle. "Ms. Jones mentioned you hadn't been home in five years."
"Ah, yeah. I'd forgotten about that."
"So what happened?" She clears her throat. "Sorry, I shouldn't ask that."
"No, it's fine." I'm quick to brush her concerns off. I take a deep breath and push the emotions back. "I found him in bed with my fiancée. He had lost his wife a few years prior to that and it changed him."
"Oh my God … " Her eyes widen in shock as a hand covers her mouth. "God, I'm sorry." Her hand drops and my eyes narrow in on her mouth, so full and … off-limits.
I purse my lips and lower my eyes. If she only knew just how sorry I was.
I lift my eyes and meet hers. "I haven't forgiven myself for not coming back before it was too late. I left and hadn't come home. I'll never get those years back." The words come much too easy, but her silky voice filled with agony and understanding makes it feel natural to talk to her.
"It's a double-edged sword, huh?" Her voice is soft with a tinge of agony. "Understanding the pain and living with the pain."
"I recognized it the moment I saw your portfolio."
She tilts her head and stares at me, but doesn't say anything. She sets the painting of the vase of lilies down against the easel and walks to the drying rack where she's kept the portrait of her sister that she did weeks ago.
"This one speaks to me the most." She sets it down and stares at it.
"I can see that. I can see a lot of you in this." I take a step so I'm standing directly next to her. I point a finger at the contrast of her painting. "The dark shading and light elements represent a battle. The battle of feeling happy and guilty that you want to be happy." She looks at me with a frozen expression. "You live through the pain every day, but it's dual. The pain of what happened to you and the pain of feeling guilty for wanting to move on."
I see her swallow and her eyes narrow. "Every day is a battle. And yet, no one wins."
"You never do when it's a battle against yourself," I say, stepping closer. "With internal battles, you either end up giving in or ending the battle altogether."
"What if you can't do either?"
"There's always a choice," I remind her.
"The choice to feel happy or let the pain consume you," she states. "I wish I could push the pain out and invite the happiness in without feeling guilty about it."
"Why can't you?"
She looks at the painting and then back to me. "Because I'm reminded of her every time I look in the mirror."
"Do you think she'd want you to be happy?" I ask, knowing damn well what her answer will be.
"Yeah, of course. She was always so energetic and smiling. It was contagious." I notice the corner of her lips curling up slightly as she shifts her head and looks up at me. "I wish I could stop missing her. Stop wondering about what ifs and if it had been me instead."
Without permission, I wrap my finger around a misplaced piece of her golden hair. She keeps her eyes locked on mine as I slowly tuck it behind her ear. I'm closer than before, and this time I don't back up.
The air between us is electric. There's no other way to explain it. The way her eyes bleed into mine, the way her lips part when our eyes connect, the way she looks at me when I seem to be the only one who knows how to speak her language-it's electric.
I wait for her to make a move-indicate that she wants what I want, but it looks like she's barely breathing.
I decide I can't wait for her anymore and that the risk is worth it, but before I can do anything about it, she breaks away at the sound of a door creaking.
"Professor Hamp-" I lower my hand and turn toward the door to a student of mine.
"Kara … " I say after an awkward silence. "What can I help you with?"
Aspen starts busying herself with her supplies while Kara continues walking in and begins talking again. "So sorry to … interrupt. I thought I'd catch you before your next class starts. I had a quick question about our latest assignment."
"Sure, what can I help you with?"
The way her arm brushes against mine doesn't go unnoticed, but neither does the fact that Aspen walks out without a second glance. I know she'll be back before class starts, but I feel the urge to run after her even though I know I can't. Almost getting caught by a student is enough to make me step back and realize I need to get my head straight.
But around her … I can't seem to think straight at all.
CHAPTER NINE
ASPEN
By Saturday, I need to clear my head of any and all thoughts of Professor Hampton.
I invite Kendall out to lunch with me, hoping for a much-needed distraction. I would've asked Zoe, but she was still in bed from her late Friday night shift.
However, if there's anyone who can drown out my own thoughts, it's Kendall.
"So I've never asked. What made you pick California?" she asks after our food arrives.
"I needed to get some sun," I say dryly, avoiding eye contact.
"Oh, speaking of sun, you should totally come with us paddle boarding this summer. My friend, Beef, is an instructor and is going to teach me. You'd have a total blast!" Her eyes light up as I fork a piece of chicken in my mouth.
"His name is Beef?" I query, furrowing my brows.
"Well, his last name is Beefer. I've always just called him Beef because he's like totally beefed up."
I snort. "Classy."
"Don't be judgy." She sneers.
"So you two never … hooked up? Does Kellan know you plan to paddle board with hot, beefy guys?"
She glares at me, and I laugh.
"I'm just asking," I say innocently.
"Don't even get me started."
"I'm starting to notice a theme."
"Well, if you must know … we have not. Not from a lack of trying though. Before Kellan, I ended up dating a wide range of weirdos."
"Really? Do tell." I grab my drink and take a quick sip.
"Well, Beef is really into fitness, which is fine. But I'm more in the ‘I'll only run if I'm being chased by a bear' proximity."
"So nothing in common?" I offer.
"Not really. We're just better off as friends." She finishes chewing and takes a drink, her cheeks reddening.
"So what about these other guys you dated?"
"Well, there was Lance. He was great … at first. From the outside anyway. Good looking, full-time job, owned his own car and house. Then we met up for drinks and dinner."