Page 45 of The Professor's Wife

They also flayed me on the inside, dredging up wounds he had no idea existed.

I just want you.

Out of the darkness…

I gave him a weak smile. “Okay, Tristan.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

We were sitting at a small outdoor burger joint with bright umbrellas and mile-long menus. I smashed through my food, unable to resist the gnawing hunger that would not abate.

Tristan had unfolded a crinkled map between our trays and was smoothing it out. My eyes lingered on his fingers—long, tanned, a little rough. I remembered the ecstasy they had brought me last night. The perfect pressure he’d used to make me explode.

I swallowed, my face burning as I watched the way his knuckles flexed while he traced ferry routes and trails. Something warm curled low in my belly.

He pointed to a place on the map, but I was busy staring at his mouth. The way his lips moved when he spoke. I thought of last night. The heated murmurs in my ears. The sound of his groans as he lost himself in me.

“This is where I was planning to head,” he said, tapping the map.

Then he said it—

“Ammonite Falls.”

I froze, my heady thoughts dissolving instantly. “Wait. Ammonite Falls?”

He looked up, catching the strain in my voice. “Yeah. You all right?”

Emotion surged through me. “That’s off the mainland.”

“On the island, yeah.”

I shook my head. “I can’t go there. That’s close to where I started. I can’t go back to the island.”

I hadn’t meant to say it like that. But the words spilled out, raw and panicked. My fingers clenched the edges of the table, and I felt the tremor in my chest return.

It was too soon.

I couldn’t go back there.

I had just left.

Flashes hit me.

Not memories exactly, but fragments.

A dark trail.

My feet crunching on gravel.

The sound of a child’s laughter.

Cold air biting my skin.

Pain digging into my ankles.

The smell of damp earth.

The sound of my own breath, ragged and too loud.