Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
“I’m eighteen,” Ana mutters at them. “Go stare somewhere else.”
I chuckle as I pull her into my office, leaning down to kiss her.
“This doesn’t change anything, you know.”
“Well, it does.”
I frown, and she grins.
“I mean, I think your cover is blown.”
I chuckle. “Probably.”
“So, you’re not my professor anymore.”
“That’s probably a good thing, baby.”
Ana shrugs, making a face. “I dunno, I mean, that was kind of the whole attraction. Without that kinky factor of you being my professor…” She sighs. “I mean, besides that, you’re just a creepy old guy who’s fucking an eighteen-year-old.”
I stare at her, and about a quarter second later, she cracks, dissolving into giggles as she throws her arms around me.
“You know I’m kidding, right?”
“Old guy, huh?” I groan, wrapping my arms around her.
“Kidding!” she snorts, looking up at me and laughing at the fake pout on my face. “Aww, did I hurt your feelings?”
“I’m crushed, actually.”
She grins. “Can I make it up to you?”
“Definitely.”
I lean down, cupping her cheek as my lips find hers.
“There’s something else I should tell you,” I murmur into her lips.
“What?”
I pull away, smiling, my eyes locked on hers.
“That I’m in love with you, Ana.”
Her face goes red, her eyes shine, and suddenly, she’s grinning ear-to-ear as she leaps into my arms, her legs wrapped around my waist.
“I love you too,” she whispers fiercely.
We crash together again, lips searing into the others, and we let the rest of the world just fade away.
Because really, what else is there but her?
Epilogue
Anastasia
“Your father doesn’t own a shotgun, does he?”
I giggle, turning to lean up and kiss Oliver’s cheek.
“He does, actually. But only for duck hunting.”
“How about boyfriends who are twelve years older than his eighteen-year-old daughter hunting?”
I shrug casually. “Well, guess we’ll find out.”
Oliver groans, and I giggle again as I squeeze his hand.
“You know they’re both going to love you, right?”
“So long as we don’t tell them how we really met? Yeah, I think I might have a chance.”
I laugh as I turn to kiss his cheek again. We’re standing in the driveway of my parent’s house—well, manor, if you want to get fancy and technical about it. They’ve known about Oliver for a while, but this is the first time they’re going to meet him. And yes, we’ve got a fake story about how we met at a coffee house, where we were reading the same book and struck up a conversation.
Hey, it’s so cheesy that everyone wants to believe it.
The story is also that Oliver cut it off as soon as he found out I was a high school senior, but that it was me that pursued him, and eventually got him to relent.
…I mean, that part’s half true, I guess.
Yes, my parents were leery at first, but when they found out that Oliver’s in the FBI and not like a professional musician or a painter or something—something “juvenile and rowdy” as my mother might put it—I guess they settled down a bit. The fact that he was my professor is never going to come up with them. Trust me on that.
You see, Winchester Academy was more than willing to bury the entire thing. It was the board who’d first gotten the FBI involved in prying into Kelly’s scheming. Everyone had wondered, but there was never any proof. That was one of the reasons Oliver was brought in, to be eyes on the ground and do some digging from within. Actually, part of his assignment had been to date her—something that makes my blood boil just thinking about—but he declined to. He’s told me it was because his first day there, he saw me an knew it was all over for him.
So, with Kelly fired and arrested, the board at Winchester buried everything about Oliver. To the other students, he left to pursue a teaching job in Europe. Well, all the students except Kempton. But, that’s another whole story in and of itself.
The funny thing is, while not technically a teacher, Oliver could have been. His undergraduate was in government, and he even has a master’s in education. You see, his mother was a schoolteacher, and his father a cop. Originally, he was going to follow mom’s path, but it was the FBI and law enforcement that eventually wooed him.
I guess there was a bit of scandal at work for him when him being involved with me was revealed. But what were they really going to do? I was eighteen, and nothing inappropriate had ever happened before then. Well, nothing inappropriate besides me leaving my panties in his desk drawer and him taking them. But, no one has to know about that, right?
Aside from that, he wasn’t technically my teacher, nor was I technically his student. There might have been some raised eyebrows, and maybe some mutterings and disapproving looks, but you know what?