Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Jocelyn appears at the door, frowning at me. “Come on, Elias. We need to talk.”
After exchanging a look with Mary, I walk toward the office.
A small shiver of regret touches me as I reflect this may be the last day I’m on Second Chance grounds. But the feeling is nothing compared to the overwhelming roaring of my soul, telling me I did the right thing by defending my woman, telling me I’ll always do the same.
“You’ve put me in an awkward position here, Elias,” Jocelyn said once we’re sitting opposite each other on the desk.
Sighing darkly, I say, “I know. I didn’t plan on it going down this way.”
“Dating a student.”
“We’re not dating,” I cut in.
She narrows her eyes, sticking her upper lip out in a truly British manner. “Elias, let’s not start this conversation off with dishonesty.”
“I mean dating doesn’t accurately describe what’s happening between us. We’re far past that point. I love her, I will propose to her, and we will have children together. We’re going to be together for the rest of our lives.”
Jocelyn sits back, her fingers steepled, watching me for a few moments.
It gives me time to savor the feeling of saying I love Della out loud, even if she’s not here to listen to the words. At least it’s out there now, no longer just bouncing around inside of me.
“Does Della feel the same?”
“Yes,” I say. “We’ve talked about all of it. She wants everything I’ve described.”
“If you were anybody else, you’d be out, no question. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I know you’ll do what you have to,” I tell her. “I accept that. I won’t try to wriggle out of it.”
“You don’t care if I fire you? I thought this job meant more to you than that.”
“I care. But I don’t care more about this job than I care about Della and our future children. I can’t say that, Jocelyn. It would be a lie.”
“Like I said, anybody else….” She drums her fingernails on the desk. “But I’ve never seen you show any interest in the students, and, let’s face it, you’ve had far, far more chances than Paul ever did. It’s common knowledge half the students have a crush on you.”
I shrug. “I noticed that from time to time. It made me more uncomfortable than anything.”
“That’s my point,” she says. “If you were doing this for merely…shall we say…physical reasons, you would have noticed. You would have seized on every chance.”
I lean forward, looking steadily at her. “Even if I’d wanted that kind of relationship, interaction, whatever you want to call it…even if I’d wanted a casual fling, which I never have…I wouldn’t have acted on it. These students have been through enough. They wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“That’s true for Della, too,” Jocelyn says.
“I know. Believe me. We’ve talked about it. I hesitated before I knew she wanted the same as me, all the things I want. But there’s no hesitation now. Maybe the situation isn’t ideal, but the truth is… we were made for each other, me and Della. We were destined to meet. That might sound weird coming from a math purist, but it’s how I feel. It’s what I know.”
Jocelyn sits back, nodding slowly. “I’ll need some time to think about this. Until then, I’m putting you on leave – paid.”
I shake my head. “I’m not taking any money if I’m not putting the work in. I’ll take the leave. I’ll give you time, but keep the cash.”
“Fair enough,” she says. “I’ll reach out soon.”
I stand, shaking her hand when she offers it.
CHAPTER 23
Della
His hand is on the small of my back as we walk into his apartment.
The car ride over was quiet, but not in a bad way. After he explained about Jocelyn putting him on leave, it was like we were able to sit in a soothing silence, not feeling the need for speech.
His hand presses warmly through my shirt, making my body tingle in that unique way.
My deep-within is telling me this is it, has to be it.
He’s proved it, unleashed his animal, and shown me I no longer have to be afraid.
His penthouse has high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows adding to the effect, the whole city laid out before us. The open-plan nature of it is kind of like my apartment, except way bigger, way more modern, and certainly less depressing.
“It’s a simple place,” he says, turning to me, staring down as he takes my hands in his. “I’ve been waiting for a woman’s touch. For your touch.”
“I’d start with some rugs,” I murmur, staring into his intense eyes, aware of his chest bulging as though trying to pop the buttons in his shirt. “And maybe a few photos.”
He leans down, guiding his lips to mine, his breath tickling warmly over my cheeks. “We’ll have lots of photos soon.”