Page 75 of Full Throttle

Dominic’s expression was unreadable. “Goodnight, Marchmont.”

She made her way to the car park. The streetlamps reflected off the wet pavement, melting like yellow wax from a candle. She touched a hand to her lips; the skin was still swollen and hot.

Her chest tightened. That kiss tonight…

It had unleashed something inside her. Now she remembered what kissing Dominic Hastings was like. It was masochistic, and all-consuming, and addictive. A bad habit she had to kick. She thought suddenly of the first time he’d kissed her, in a dusty old classroom with his mouth tasting of ginger biscuits. Even then, she’d known that kissing Dominic Hastings was like putting a ticking time bomb in your chest.

And it hadn’t taken long before he’d lit the fuse.

Chapter 24

Then…

Juliette pressed her ear to the door. She wasn’t sure what she was listening for exactly. The scuffle of shoes? The scrape of a chair, or textbooks slipped into bags? But no sound came from within, which was a good sign. She’d checked Dominic’s class schedule. Twice. No mean feat, considering he’d taken her off it three days ago. Still, you could never be sure, and this was going to be a…delicate conversation.

A lump rose in her throat.

God, this would be mortifying.

Juliette squared her shoulders. She’d just get it over with. Like crying during a flu vaccine. Or the moment where the waiter said, “Happy birthday!” and you said, “You too.” These things were embarrassing but survivable.

She knocked.

“Come in,” Dominic called.

He was sitting at his desk, looking infuriatingly handsome for someone wearing old gym clothes and a baseball cap. She scanned his face. He didn’t look surprised to see her. But maybe that was a good thing?

She hesitated. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

He shook his head. “I’m surprised you didn’t come sooner. How’s the wrist?”

Oh. Right. She’d almost forgotten. “Fine.”

Juliette rubbed absently at the bandage, glancing at the window. If she could get through the next five minutes without stammering and making an even bigger fool of herself, then she’d reward herself with a pistachio ice cream. Was she bribing herself like a five-year-old child? Yes. Was it worth it? Actually, probably not.

She drew a breath. “I wanted to apologize for the other night. When I…”

Heat filled her cheeks. Dominic leaned against the desk, his arms folded patiently across his chest. If she didn’t know better, she might have said he was enjoying this.

“Yes?”

She hid a grimace. He was really going to make her say it, wasn’t he? “When I…” Begged you to kiss me while I was naked in the shower. “When I behaved inappropriately. I was drunk. And you’re my instructor, but you’re also…” She waved a hand. “I mean, look at you.”

Dominic raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Yeah. He was definitely enjoying this. “Come on, Hastings. You know what you look like.” She ground the toe of her boot, willing the heat in her cheeks to dissipate. Pistachio ice cream. That was why she was doing this. “Anyway, I didn’t come here to make excuses. I just came to say sorry, and that it won’t happen again.”

“Well. That’s a shame.”

She blinked. She must have misheard him. “Sorry, I thought you said that—”

“It’s a shame,” Dominic said, “because I would have enjoyed kissing you.”

His voice was even, as if they were discussing a particularly interesting overtake on track, and Juliette hadn’t realized it was possible to blush any harder, but somehow it was. “But…” She shook her head. “You didn’t want to. You told me that we couldn’t.”

“Call me old-fashioned,” Dominic said dryly, “but I generally prefer that my date remembers kissing me. I find it makes the experience more enjoyable for everyone.”

She stared. “But…” A breeze filtered through the window, cool against her flushed skin. “You changed my schedule. You took me off all your classes. I thought…”