Pushing the Limits(61)

"But watching you stand alone, all my doubt suddenly goes away somehow,"  he continues the song, his eyes staying fixed on mine. He brushes a  finger, wiping my cheeks.

"I'm sorry I had to hurt you. The impact of not having you in my life  really opened my eyes to what heartbreak was, and now that I know, I  never want to feel that way again."

"I promise you, Aspen. You'll never have to. Because this is it. I want you, and I don't care who all knows."

"But how?" I choke out. "How can we be together?"

His deep dimples reappear, giving me all the reassurance I need. "I'm  not working at the college anymore. I won't be your professor, and we  won't be breaking any rules."

I shake my head. "I can't let you quit your job for me. Not when you have Natalia to take care of. I can't be that selfish."         

     



 

He pulls me closer, his lips brushing softly against mine. "It's too  late. I took another job offer. A much better one, in fact."

My brows rise. "You did? Where?"

"You're looking at it."

"Here?" I gasp.

"Aunt Mel is retiring next year, and Mr. Cross asked who she'd recommend  taking over her position. She mentioned me before I even told her about  you. Once I did, she made it official. So I'll do a year of training,  working under Aunt Mel until she officially retires."

"Oh my God!" I squeal, nearly laughing and crying at the same time as I  tightly hug him. "You're going to work here?" I ask, pulling back.

"That's right, Ms. Evans."

"Great, you went from being my professor to being my boss." I snort.  "I'm pretty sure there's a work policy on dating employees or  something."

"Well … I won't officially be your boss until next year, which means we  have the whole year until we have to start breaking the rules."

I laugh, wrapping my arms around him. "You sure do love pushing the  limits, Professor Hampton." I press my mouth to his, pulling his lower  lip in between my teeth and sliding my tongue inside.

"And you sure love the consequences."

"Only when they double as benefits." I wink.

He laughs, tightening his hold on me. His features turn serious as he  grips my chin with his fingers. "Falling in love with you has been the  best experience of my life. I hope you know that. I wouldn't change it  for anything in the world. I love you, Aspen."

The smile drops from my face as I soak in his words. My heart rate  speeds up as the tears surface, my body humming at how those words  affect me.

"Falling in love with you has been the hardest experience of my life,  but it was worth every moment to hear you say those words."

The corners of his lips tilt up in a satisfied smile, his dimples  appearing just enough so you can see the creases in his cheeks. He  brushes a thumb over my chin and pulls me to him, his mouth covering  mine in a slow, soft kiss.

My body takes over, eager to taste and feel him again.

And it's everything and more.

"I love you, Morgan," I whisper against his lips. "More than I ever thought was possible to love someone else."





CHAPTER THIRTY

ASPEN



For six years, my life has revolved around one thing-pain. I've let it  take over my life, fueling the guilt and anxiety for everything I lost.  Although I will always love my sister and the years we shared, I can't  let it control my life any longer.

Letting go will be a constant struggle, but with Morgan by my side, I  have no doubt I'll be able to better control my anxiety. The strength I  get from his support gives me confidence that I can overcome the things  I've struggled with for so long.

I'm not sure if it was finally knowing the truth of what happened and  why, or if it's because of meeting Morgan-perhaps a combination of  both-but my life is full of hope instead of constant guilt. Finally, the  weight has lifted, and I'm starting to see a future full of  possibilities and happiness. He's peeled back layers I never even knew  existed. He's managed to dig his way right into my heart, the very thing  I'd sworn off years ago.

Natalia and I started painting together. I bought her an easel and her  own painting and drawing supplies so she can work whenever she wants.  Morgan signed her up for some art workshops for kids her age at The Art  Shoppe. When she isn't burying herself with drawing, she has her face  stuck in a book. She tells me about every piece she creates and even let  Ms. Jones put a couple of her pieces up in the gallery after several  plea attempts.

My favorite ones are the drawings of her mother. She can't remember much  about her, but she draws what she does remember. She tells me stories  about her and her dad, the fun things he'd take her to, and all the  pictures he'd take of them together.

I can see a lot of Ryan in Morgan and think about how much it must hurt  Natalia to see the resemblance. But for her age, she's handling it quite  well. In fact, she's starting to act like a typical eleven-year-old,  laughing more easily and slowly opening up about her feelings. We've  been able to bond over teasing Morgan about his lack of cooking skills.  I've been trying to teach him and show him some of my techniques. He's  getting better-in that the smoke detector goes through fewer batteries  than before.

Morgan and I take turns sleeping over at each other's places. If Natalia  spends the night at a friend's or Morgan's parent's house, he stays  with me. Otherwise, I stay over there and make sure they stay fed.         

     



 

Music plays softly as I work in my studio. Different shades of purple  and red paint cover my jeans and hands. The blend of warm and cool  colors is the perfect mix for the abstract I'm currently working on.

The paintbrush strokes effortlessly along his jawline and cheekbones.  His green eyes are bright in the mix, showing his softer and gentler  side. Light purple and deep red cover the rest of him, representing the  very meaning of this whole piece.

I hear him walk up behind me. My body shivers as he gently wraps his  arms around my waist and nuzzles his nose in the nape of my neck.

"Mm … you smell good."

"That's the smell of paint and working for hours, or what normal people call sweat," I tease.

"Strawberry," he murmurs. "You smell like strawberries … and cream." He  nips on my earlobe, pulling it in between his teeth and sucking lightly.

"Don't get any ideas," I threaten. "The last time you mentioned  strawberries and whip cream, it took three hours to wash it out of my  hair."

"That's only because you kept distracting me in the shower." He kisses  down my neck, sending goose bumps over my skin. "But at least you were  thoroughly cleaned." I feel the corners of his lips tilting up in an  amused grin.

"Can you at least wait until I'm finished? It's almost complete."

He growls in my ear. "You have five minutes." He pulls back and slaps my ass.

Thirty-seven minutes later, I step back and examine the painting. "It's  finished," I call out. I smile as I study it. I can't wait to frame this  one.

"What's this one called?" He rests his hands on my hips and pulls me against him, his chest to my back.

"The Professor," I answer with a smile.

"He's very … brightly colored."

I lightly elbow him in the stomach. "It's you."

He presses his lips against my neck. "What's it mean?" he softly asks.

"The colors represent healing and love." I turn around and face him,  wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "You're the purples and reds of  my life."

He leans down and presses his mouth to mine. "You're the purples and  reds of my life," he repeats my words. "Many, many, many reds." He  brushes his tongue along my lower lip and pulls it in between his teeth  and sucks it lightly before releasing it. "I love you, Aspen Evans." He  kisses my lips. "I love how passionate you are. I love how much you love  Natalia and me. But I think the thing I love most about you is how  adorable you look covered in paint."

"If you think that's adorable … " I take the brush covered in purple and  wipe it across his forehead, leaving a nice bright streak over his skin.  "You should see how adorable I am when I kick your ass at paint wars."

He pulls my body against him, making me gasp and laugh at the same time.  He grabs the brush from my hand and wipes it all over my cheeks and  nose. "It's super adorable how you always think you can beat me. Too bad  that's not going to happen!"

I manage to push out of his grip just long enough to grab another tube  of paint. "You're so dead!" I scream, smearing it on my hands and  covering it over his arms and neck.

We continue chasing each other around the room, laughing, and eventually  surrendering to each other. I release the brushes and paint from my  hands and wrap them around him, holding him close to my chest.

"I love you, Morgan Hampton. Thank you for bringing happiness back into  my life." I arch my neck and smile up at him, his warm eyes making me  fall harder and harder for him every single day.