Velvet Kisses(69)

“Oh, my, God!” I hiss to Annie. “It’s him! It’s Wyatt!” I shoo her into the bathroom, and she’s happy to comply.

“Who is it?” I try to play it cool as if a stranger knocking on the door at ten-thirty is just something we live with here on campus.

“It’s me, Wyatt.” He rumbles low, and my hand touches the door as if it were his skin.

There are so many things I want to say, so much went wrong so fast. I have a feeling there aren’t enough words in the dictionary to convey how much hurt I’ve caused him—even if it wasn’t me who published that stupid article. I have my suspicions, namely an ex who I happened to have emasculated less than twenty-four hours prior to the debacle, but he’s been just as good at denying it as I am.

“Can I come in?” Wyatt’s warm voice vibrates through the door.

I want to say yes! I want to fling the door open and ravage him, but something in me hesitates. Maybe letting him in is just another error in a long line of mistakes. I’ve already caused him so much pain. I’m horrified at what’s happened between us.

My finger clasps the knob, and I crack it open slowly.

“Do you come brandishing weapons?” I see him for the first time with the naked eye, in what feels like forever, and that sweet spot between my legs pulsates in response. A heavy groan rises up my throat, but I forcibly swallow it down. Wyatt James is gorgeous in a way that makes my bones ache.

“Not unless you count my smile.” He pushes out an easy grin that dissipates as quick as it came.

“Come in,” I whisper, stepping aside as his woodsy cologne saturates my senses.

He turns to say something, but I stop him. My arms find themselves wrapped around his body like some autonomic response I can no more control than breathing.

Wyatt. His hard body is pressed against mine, solid and warm, alive—his beating heart thumping over mine like a prayer.

I pull back, my vision blurred with tears. “I didn’t do that to you, Wyatt. I would never in a million years do something so deplorable. That was Will. He took what I wrote and changed the details. That was his name, not yours. I don’t know how he published it, but he must have stolen my password. It was easy enough for him to hack. I swear to you, I would never dare hurt you like that. I would never say those horrible things about you. I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused.”

Wyatt’s eyes explode in crimson tacks. “So am I subject number two?” He gives a wry smile.

“Yes.” I swallow hard, glancing down at our conjoined chests a moment. “And no. I’ve decided to scrap the memoir. I don’t plan on expanding my database any further,” I whisper that last part, thick with shame.

“Okay.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “I just wanted to let you know I found a copy of our contract in Monica’s house.”

“Who’s Monica?” An entire array of girls scroll through my mind, but I still can’t seem to place the name.

“Professor Nicholson. We used to date. We were pretty serious.”

I pull back a notch as my mouth drops open. “It all makes sense. And here I thought she hated me for no reason.” I shake my head. “She’s been saying these snippy things to me all semester. Wait—why would she have a copy of the contract?”

Oh, God. I bet Wyatt has penned a million of those demented documents. No wonder he came up with it so quickly. He was simply pulling it out of the drawer—using some boilerplate contract he outlined years ago.

I clear my throat. “Just how many of these documents have you been party to?” No wonder he voluntarily had himself tested for STDs. It was probably a routine visit!

His chest bucks with a silent laugh. “Just the one with you, sweetheart.” He says it a little more curt than expected. “Monica took my briefcase by mistake one night at the Black Bear. She rifled through it and made herself a copy for God knows what reason—bedtime reading.” He winces. “I don’t know what’s going on.” A pained smile comes and goes. “All I know is that I miss you fiercely, Marley. I miss you so much it hurts more than I can stand. And, on top of that, I’m not sure what to believe.”

My breathing picks up until I’m panting right over him. His mouth is so close it’s like holding back a granite wall not to kiss him.

“I swear on all that is holy I didn’t publish that horrible article.”

Wyatt bears into my eyes as if vetting me for an inkling of dishonesty. I’d swear on my mother’s precious life, on a pile of Bibles that stack to the moon if he wanted me to.

“Okay, Marley.” He gives a single nod. “I think I need to go and clear my head.”