Am I reckless ?

CALEB

I didn’t make it past the door.

Fuck it.

Eliot Ward was exactly where I’d left him. Leaning against the wall, cane in one hand,arranging his items in his bag.

His head lifted the moment he heard me coming.

“You—”

My hand caught his coat and pushed him gently back against the wall, closing the distance between us in one step before my mouth crashed into his.

A sharp inhale escaped him, his fingers tightening instinctively in the front of my jacket.

His mouth moved against mine. Weeks of irritation and tension seemed to unravel all at once in the narrow space between us.

His cane slipped slightly against the wall as his free hand grabbed the collar of my shirt, pulling me closer.

The kiss deepened, charged tension that had been building since the first time he’d looked at me across that lecture hall.

I braced one hand against the wall beside his head, trapping him between my arms.

Eliot exhaled sharply against my mouth, his grip tightening.

“You,” he muttered when we broke apart for breath, his voice rougher than I’d ever heard it.

“You told me to leave.”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t feel like listening.”

His eyes flashed.

“You never do.”

His breathing wasn’t steady anymore. His composure had cracks in it now, small ones, but noticeable.

“You are unbelievably reckless,” he said quietly.

“Maybe.”

“You are my student.”

“Not right now.”

Eliot’s gaze dropped briefly to my mouth before he looked away again, frustration pulling tight across his expression.

“You should go,” he said.

I leaned closer again, slow enough this time that he had every chance to stop it. His fingers tightened instead.

The second kiss wasn’t sudden, It was slower.

Eliot tilted his head slightly, his mouth moving against mine with a quiet intensity that made the room feel too small to breathe in.

His hand slid briefly higher against my chest before he stopped himself, tension tightening through his shoulders.

When we pulled apart again, his forehead almost brushed mine.

“You should not be doing this,” he said quietly.

“You’re the one kissing me back.”

“That is not helping your case.”

“Didn’t think it would.”

A frustrated breath left him.

“You are going to ruin my life.”

I couldn’t help the small grin that pulled at my mouth.

“You already said that.”

His eyes lifted to mine again.

“And you,” Eliot said slowly, “clearly intend to make sure I remember it.”

I leaned just a little closer again.

“Professor,” I murmured.

“You kissed me first.”

Eliot just stared at me.

“Don’t,” he said quietly.

“Don’t what?”

“Act like you didn’t provoke it.”

I smiled faintly. “Did I?”

“Yes.”

The word left his mouth just as his hand grabbed the front of my jacket again, pulling me forward.

Weeks of irritation, curiosity, and tension seemed to collide all at once as Eliot’s mouth pressed against mine again, the controlled professor from the classroom gone completely.

My hand slid to his waist instinctively, steadying his injured leg.

“Careful,” I muttered.

“I am not—”

The protest disappeared when I kissed him again.

Eliot’s fingers curled into my jacket.

“You’re staring again,” he said quietly.

“Can you blame me?”

I kissed him again—harder this time—and felt his shoulders press back into the wall.

His hand slid briefly to the back of my neck.

I pulled back just enough to watch him.

“You’re thinking again.”

“Yes.”

“I am attempting,” he said carefully, “to maintain a small amount of common sense.”

“Looks like it’s losing.”

His eyes flashed.

“That is your fault.”

“Sure.”

The silence stretched longer, my mouth brushing the line of his jaw.

Eliot inhaled sharply.

“Caleb—”

My hand slid briefly along his side before settling against the wall beside him again.

“You’re still here,” I pointed out.

“Yes.”

“You could leave.”

His head tilted slightly to the side as my mouth brushed the skin just below his ear.

“I could,” he said.

“But you won’t.”

His fingers tightened briefly in my shirt again.

“You are extraordinarily confident.”

“Am I wrong?”

Then his hand moved suddenly, gripping my collar and pulling me down into another kiss that stole the rest of the argument completely.

His breathing wasn’t steady anymore.

“You,” he said quietly, “are a terrible influence.”

“You matched with me.”

“That,” he muttered, “was clearly a catastrophic decision.”

“Probably.”

Then Eliot exhaled slowly.

“This,” he said quietly, “has already gone too far.”

I leaned just a little closer.

“Then why are you still holding onto my shirt?”