I locked the door behind me. When I turned and our eyes met, a playful smile curved on my lips at his shocked expression.
"Reina, stop being childish," he said.
"Childish?" I echoed, tilting my head. "Admit it. You teased me first on purpose. So why are you complaining now?"
"I told you, I said it by mistake. It's not something a grown-up should take seriously. Maybe a little kid would."
"And a grown-up man also knows what he's doing," I shot back. "So don't tell me it was just a mistake."
His jaw tightened. "Why are you so obsessed with me, Reina?"
I smirked, leaning closer. "Yes, Mr. Professor. I am this obsessed with you. So face it, or I'll make you."
He raised a brow because of amusement, but didn't speak. I knew exactly what I was doing and maybe I shouldn't have to. I still kept going. Because I wanted this. No, I needed this.
"You shoul—"
I didn't let him finish. I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close, our lips crashing before he could react. For a second, he froze.
But within moments, he responded. His lips moved against mine with no hesitation, no holding back. The kiss deepened, like we were both afraid of letting go. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me so close that I could feel his warmth pressing into me.
He gently guided me backward onto the bed, his face hovering just inches above mine. His eyes searched mine with intensity.
"Are you sure you want to continue this, young lady?" he whispered in my ear with his teasing but soft tone, his breath warm against my lips. "You still have time to walk away."
But I didn't care. I didn't care if I lost myself in this moment. I didn't care about right or wrong, sense or logic. All I knew was that I wanted him. His touch. His kiss. His presence surrounding me.
Instead of answering, I pulled him in again. That was all the confirmation he needed.
His hands traced me slowly,like I was something fragile yet dangerous all at once. From the curve of my shoulders to the small of my back, he memorized every part of me. It wasn't somethings rushed and careless. It was intense, deliberate, and unshakably real.
"Jake—"
"Say my name," he growled, his voice low and rough. "Say it like you mean it. I want to hear you."
I bit my lip, breathless, and nodded. I could feel myself trembling under the weight of it. Maybe it was because it was him. And he was mine tonight.
The tension wrapped around me. Every second sending a shiver racing through my body. My back arched, breath hitched, and I felt myself giving in, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but him.
"Please," I whispered. "Don't hold back. I need you."
He didn't hesitate. His jacket slipped off his shoulders. I couldn't look away. He was a danger, temptation, and comfort all at once. And I wanted all of it.
I pulled him back to me, our lips crashing in a desperate kiss. My hands clung to him as if letting go would mean the end of everything. His weight pressed against me.
"God…" he muttered against my lips. The calm and cold professor was gone. In his place was someone hungry
Just like me.
We moved together, losing ourselves in the moment again and again, like we couldn't get enough. Like we didn't want the night to end. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered breath tied us closer, until we were completely consumed by each other.
When it was finally over, he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and whispered, "Rest."
He lay beside me, too exhausted to return to his own bed. And just like that, we slept, entangled in each other's warmth, soaking up what was left of our energy until there was nothing left to give.
When I woke up, sunlight filtered through the curtains. I reached for him instinctively, only to find the space beside me was empty.
I panicked a little before hearing sounds from outside. It was a loud nostalgic music.
I peeked through the window and there he was in the backyard, grilling barbecue. A bottle of wine and some food were spread across a picnic blanket. There was even a basket of books beside it.
I quickly ran down and went to the garden. Barefoot.
"What's all this?" I asked as I stepped outside, still wearing his oversized shirt.
He glanced at me and grinned. "We're going to study here."
I blinked. "Seriously? Like this?"
"Why not? Fresh air, food, nature, and books. That's a perfect thing, don't you think?"
I rolled my eyes at him. He looked too proud of himself, like he just know how to get me.
Sometimes, he acts like a certified therapist, always knowing how to calm me. He's good at almost everything.
Except expressing his feelings.
But for now, I let that thought go. Because maybe, just maybe, he was showing his feelings in the way he looked at me, in the food he made, in the way he didn't leave.
And that was enough.
"Here. Eat this."
He handed me a barbecue stick with a casual smile.
"Thanks," I said softly, accepting it. I smiled back. Though it didn't quite reach my eyes. Something about this moment felt too perfect….
Then his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen, and I instinctively looked too. But I quickly looked away, pretending not to care.
"Mom?" he answered.
Relief washed over me for a second. Just his mom, I thought.
Until her voice came through, loud and angry. Enough that I could hear every word.
"When are you planning to continue the engagement?! It doesn't mean that she refuses, you won't pursue it! "
Engagement? He's engaged?
My fingers froze around the stick when he look at me to see my reaction.
"Just a sec," he said to me lowering his head and his eyes met mine.
I just nodded in approval and forced a smile. Then he distance himself for the call.
I already removed the barbecue from the stick and without even realizing it, I snapped it in half with one hand. The sharp crack of wood mirrored the sound in my chest.
I didn't know why I did that. Or maybe… I did.
"Hey, stop that!" he rushed toward me, concern etched in his face.
I backed away, holding up my hand. My gaze locked on his.....hurt, disbelief, and betrayal all in my eyes.
I blinked, trying to hold the tears back. But they were already falling, traitorous and hot against my cheeks.
He reached for me again, but I brushed his hands away.
"Don't," I whispered, trying not to breakdown. "Just don't."