Pushing the Limits(30)

Things like Professor Hampton.

And his hands.

And his eyes.

And his perfect lips.

And basically anything to do with him, which has made me unable to  really function at anything else since he kissed me Wednesday night.

And speaking of that kiss, I can't get the taste and feel of his lips  out of my mind. I replay it over and over in my head just so I won't  forget it. I've kissed numerous guys in the past, but his was different.  It was so much more than just a kiss.

I hear knocking on my door and yell for them to come in. I know it's  Kendall. We're supposed to head to the gallery together, but I know  she's going to ream my ass for not being ready yet.         

     



 

"Aspen!"

"In here!" I call from my bathroom. I hear her walk down the hall and  see her as soon as she comes through the door. "What in the hell?" I  crack out in laughter. "Why aren't you dressed?"

"That's because I can't get the damn dress over my ass." She scowls. "It fit me a few weeks ago."

"Maybe you're just bloated?" I spin her around and pull the dress up  over her chest and around her back. "Okay, start sucking in." I pull it  tighter, but it doesn't reach just yet. "When I count to three, inhale  as deep as you can and hold it in." She does as I say, and I yank the  zipper up, just barely getting it to zip all the way. "There."

She turns around with a frown. "I can't even breathe."

"Shit," I mutter. "Do you have another one?"

"If I had another one, I wouldn't be trying to squeeze into this!"

"All right. Let me unzip it and you can wear one of my dresses."

"Are you kidding? Your stuff is even tighter than mine."

"Not all of it!" I counter. "Just come on." I drag her into my room and  open the closet doors. "There has to be something in here that'll work."



Forty-two minutes later …



"I look like a stripper," Kendall complains, staring at herself in the mirror.

"Silver is totally in," I say unconvincingly. "You look fine."

"I'm not an idiot, Aspen. I make one wrong move and it'll rip in half, giving everyone a free show."

"Well, at least it'd help sell lots of paintings," I tease, laughing at  her dramatics. "But just to be safe, don't bend over." I wink.

"That's it. No more Taco Bell runs." She rubs a hand over her waistline  as if she were pregnant. "Mama needs to get rid of this food baby."

I burst out in laughter, hardly able to keep it together to slide my shoes on. "Come on, Little Mama. Hair time."

"Maybe if I dye it pink and puff it up like an eighties hairstyle gone  bad, it'll direct everyone away from the fact that this dress is two  sizes too small."

"I don't see what you're fussing about. It really accents your ass and chest."

"The only time I actually have a chest and it'll be while I'm at work," she whines, flailing her arms against her sides.

"Well, as a newly single girl, you can use this opportunity to network with potential dates."

The glare she shoots at me tells me she's not amused. "Just finish your hair," she groans.

My lips tilt up in a knowing smirk at her silly remark. I decide to  leave my hair half down and pin the rest up with a red and silver clip. I  complete the look by curling the ends and hair spraying it. I apply my  makeup as usual-smoky eyes and red lips.

"Ready?" she asks, leaning up against the wall. I try to hide the smile  that's forming on my face at the fact that she can't sit. She's been  standing there waiting for me for at least a half hour.

"All ready."

"Finally. I was about to pass out."

"Are you sure you want to wear that?"

She checks the time on her phone. "Even if I did want to change, there's no time. We have to be there in five minutes."

I grab my clutch off the table and follow her out. The event is from six to ten, but Ms. Jones wants us there an hour early.

"It'll be a miracle if I last all night in these heels." She sighs, cautiously stepping down the staircase.

"You get used to them."

"Oh, I'm sure people who have long, tone legs and petite feet really have to struggle with wearing heels."

I groan at her bad attitude and remark. "That's it … we're hitting the open bar first."

"Now we're talking."





I know Professor Hampton is going to be at the event, but nothing  could've prepared me for how I'd feel the moment I first saw him in his  sleek, black tuxedo, crisp white shirt, and smooth black tie. He looks  flawless, and I find it hard to not fantasize about running my hands  down his chest just to see what he'd do.

Butterflies build in my stomach as I clench my thighs together at the  thought of his lips on mine again. His hair is combed back, the sides  trimmed short. He looks like he came straight out of a GQ magazine, and I  want to subscribe to every issue.

I pretend that I'm not looking at him or memorizing every inch of his  solid body. I keep my eyes low and my head slanted just enough to keep  him in my peripheral vision. He's talking with one of the bartenders,  laughing and already holding a drink in his hand.         

     



 

A drink. That's exactly what I need.

"Aspen!"

Or not.

I turn around and see Ms. Jones speed walking with her arms flailing  right toward me, Christine chasing after her with a frazzled look on her  face. "Hi!" I smile at the pair. Ms. Jones is a walking, talking bundle  of nerves, and poor Christine looks like she's just trying to hold on  for dear life

"Thank goodness you're here."

"Everything okay?"

She's panting, and I can tell she's about to have a nervous breakdown.  "No. I mean, yes. Well, kind of. I'm just freaking out a little."

Christine stares pointedly at me, eyes wide while she mouths a little?  It takes everything I have not to giggle, tamping down the humor I give  Ms. Jones my undivided attention.

"Okay, well, what can I do to help?"

"I just need you two to make sure everyone is doing what they're supposed to be doing."

"Well, of course, we will."

"We have some very important people from the community coming and everything needs to be perfect."

I place my hands on her shoulders and look her straight in the eyes. "It  will be, okay? Everything is planned to the last detail. Christine and I  have it under control. This is your event. Enjoy it."

She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "Right. Okay, thank you."

I release her shoulders and smile. "Anytime." I wink before she walks  off, Christine trailing behind her, my words going right over her head.

Kendall walks over to me with two drinks in her hand and a sly smirk on her lips. "What's that look?" I ask.

She hands me a glass of champagne. "Nothing." She lowers her eyes as takes a sip, and I know she's full of shit.

I glance behind her and notice the other bartender that's setting up is  staring right at her ass. "Nothing … right," I drawl with an  over-exaggerated tone. "So are you ready to schmooze for the next four  hours?"

She sighs. "As long as there's a drink in my hand at all times."

I purse my lips together and finally realize the issue. "You miss him," I say softly.

She shrugs, avoiding eye contact with me. It's been two weeks since  Kellan broke up with her, and I've been so busy with my own drama that I  haven't even been paying attention to the pain she was feeling from it.

"Tonight, we drink away our inhibitions." I clink my glass with hers.  "Tomorrow, we pay for it." I smile when I finally get a laugh out of  her.

"Deal."

I finish my glass and set it back down. The doors are going to open  soon, and I need to get my head into the game. I'll be the attendant in  the America in the Thirties Exhibit. Each exhibit has an attendant  available to help push sales and be ready to answer questions about the  paintings.

Kendall isn't as familiar with the exhibits, so she's placed by the  front doors, welcoming everyone to the event and directing them to the  silent auction, bar, and food.

I decide to use the restroom quickly before the doors open. My heart  races as I walk down the hall, and I know if I don't take a few minutes  to breathe it out, I'll only feel worse as the night goes on. I usually  live for these events. I love talking to other people about art and  hearing their interpretations on the pieces. It's these events that make  juggling school and work worth it. But having Professor Hampton here is  making me more nervous than usual.

"Aspen … " I hear his deep hoarse voice before I see him. I spin around and face him as he walks toward me.

"Hi, Professor Hampton." I nervously chew my lip. "You look great. Black suits you." I grin.

His lips form into a shy smile as he brushes his fingers over the  stubble covering his jawline. He steps closer. "What did I say about  calling me that outside of the classroom?" His eyes travel from my eyes  to my lips and my body shivers in anticipation of feeling his hands on  me again.