Knowing Me, Knowing You | (S/P)

Chapter 13

September 12th.

Have you read those stories on the internet about awful, awkward first kisses? I remember my first kiss, and it definitely falls into the 'awful' category. I must have been around thirteen, and I was only realizing that boys weren't as disgusting as I thought. His name was Harry, we had biology together, and I had an immense crush on him. When he finally asked me out, I felt on cloud nine; we went on a date to a bowling place. On our way back home, the inevitable happened. Now, you can imagine two hormonal tweens kissing for the first time; too much saliva, teeth clashing, you get the picture. Enough said there wasn't a second date.

Now, my last kiss, that's a complete different story. I trace my bottom lip unconsciously, reliving the way his lips felt against mine. 

It was a heat of the moment, short kiss. But that was enough to make me feel the way it did. I'm positive I had never before been kissed with such strength. Not in a forceful way...just, vehemently, deep. And dangerously good.

I look up to meet the instigator of such actions. Nathaniel's back is facing me, as he's currently erasing the board. His back and shoulder muscles flex in that particular way, and once again, my brain does that annoying little thing.

It makes my middle grow warm, my skin tingle, my chest burn. 

Remember that thing I said about this weird tension between us being gone? Yeah, no, that's not going to happen.

This cannot be real. There is not angle that would make it look all right. If only he hadn't kissed me in the way that he did...or in any other way.

"Ms. Saunders, can you meet me at my office after class please?" Nathaniel gets me off my inappropriate thoughts before dismissing the class. I limit myself to simply nod, not thrusting my ability with words right now.

Five or so minutes after, I stare vigorously at the golden name written on the door. I've been staring at it for the past minute, knowing once I step inside there's no way out.

I have spent the last forty-eight hours trying to make sense of what happened. I have replayed the conversation in my head countless times and I still can't produce a proper answer out of it. 

His flimsy response of how he kissed me because I wouldn't shut up, and his subsequent hint at how I wanted it to happen, just make me want to stab him several times. No, not stabbing, too much blood. I have never been one with anger problems, but his particular persona makes my brain lose what little restrain it has; in more than one way.

The least reasonable part of me thinks that there must be an underlying reason on why he kissed me. It couldn't have been an on the spur of the moment thing. He must have been aware of the risk it represented for his position at the University. And if so, why would he go on with it? Why would he kiss me? 

The most baffling part of it all, is that I'm not entirely upset that he did.

Knowing that I won't get answers out of my berating, I knock on the door before I can regret it. Footsteps are heard from the other side, and in no time Nathaniel is in front of me. This kind of energy that appears whenever he approaches me rattles up the second our eyes lock. I do my ultimate best to appear composed as I step inside.

I have never been in his office before. It's fairly spacious. There's a huge bookshelf covering most part of one of the walls, facing a dark mahogany desk with two armchairs in front of it. The assemble is completed by a coffee table to my left, a single chesterfield sofa next to it.

Nathaniel takes his seat behind the desk, while I occupy one of the chairs on the front. I try to look at anywhere but him not knowing how to start this conversation, but it's like his eyes act as a magnet. Those green eyes that never fail to give me shivers.