Page 53 of The Professor's Wife

He chuckled, surprised by my answer. “Spoken from experience.”

I closed my Math 12 textbook. “Yeah, and I’m ready to get out.”

I had been shit on too many times to count while working retail. Plus, the pay wasn’t enough for Rowe and me.

Although I knew June didn’t mind us staying at her place, I didn’t want him sharing a bedroom with me forever. He kept talking about wanting a race-car bed, and that just wasn’t possible for us.

Not yet, anyway.

I still had a lot of courses to finish before I stood a chance of getting into nursing school, but I refused to let that stop me. Every time I felt tired, I pictured Rowe in that race-car bed.

Then I pictured the bedroom we still shared, and the guilt pushed me forward again.

I swallowed it down as I peered up at Oliver. “Are you going for another coffee run?”

He smiled, and there was something about his smile that made me tingle. “Need something strong?”

“Only if you were planning on heading out. I won’t inconvenience you.”

“You couldn’t inconvenience me, Daisy,” he assured me. “How about you come with me this time?”

Seriously?

I had built this man up in my head over the last few weeks, developing a crush so embarrassingly big that it felt like another entity in the room.

His offer made me soar with excitement.

I glanced down at my textbook. I’d been at it for hours, so it wouldn’t be wrong to take a break. Plus, I was starting to get foggy.

And anyway, I really wanted to be around Oliver, even if he was only being friendly.

I nodded, hiding my excitement. “I brought change, so don’t worry—”

“No,” he cut in, a stern edge entering his voice as he stepped back.

He wore that authoritative professor look as he said, “It’ll be on me. It’s just coffee, Daisy.”

My smile was timid as I stood and shoved my textbook and notebook into my purple backpack.

“Okay. Thank you, Professor Black.”

I felt his eyes on me.

His voice was warm when he said, “Oliver. I’m not your professor, Daisy.”

I nodded, unable to look up at him now as I trailed after him, whispering softly, “Oliver.”

CHAPTER TEN

My eyes cracked open. The stillness was interrupted every now and then by birdsong and the faint shift of Tristan’s legs against the mattress.

His arm was wrapped around my middle, my back pressed against his bare chest. He breathed into my hair, and judging by the uneven rhythm, I knew he was awake. His lips moved slowly across my bare shoulder before he buried his face in my hair again and inhaled deeply.

My heart squeezed at the tenderness of it. The way he held me was so sure, as though waking up with me in his arms was already normal.

This sort of gentleness put a lump in my throat. I stilled and tried to take deep breaths to calm my heart.

Tristan noticed.