All Chapters of My Best Friend’s Brother Is My Professor—And He Wants Me: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Elena CarsonI step into the bathroom with him.The air is already warm from the shower he started. Steam softens the edges of the mirror and turns the light hazy. Killian turns to me without speaking and reaches for the zipper at the back of my dress. His fingers move slowly, deliberately, as if undressing me is something he has been thinking about all evening. The pink fabric loosens and slides down my arms. He helps it past my hips until it pools at my feet. My bra follows. Then my underwear. He doesn’t rush any of it. When I’m fully bare in front of him, his eyes move over me with a quiet intensity that makes my skin feel too sensitive.He strips just as carefully. Shirt first, then pants, then everything else. The sight of him still steals a fraction of my breath even after all these months. Broad shoulders, the clean lines of muscle, the faint marks my nails left earlier at the pottery studio. He steps into the shower and holds out a hand. I take it.Hot water hits my sh

Elena CarsonI don’t know how to feel about Ronald knowing.The thought circles the entire time Killian stands in the doorway asking what we should do with the rest of the day. Ronald has always been loyal to the Davenports, first to Derek, then to the company itself. But loyalty to the family isn’t the same as loyalty to a secret that could damage Killian’s reputation. If this gets out while he’s still technically a professor, the university won’t care that we started before he ever stood at the front of my lecture hall. They’ll only see the headline. And the company Derek protects so fiercely might decide Killian is more liability than asset.I trust Killian when he says Ronald can be trusted. I just don’t know if I trust the situation.“I’m tired,” I tell him. “Can we just stay in?”He studies my face for a second, then nods. “Alright.”He walks to the dresser, picks up a small box I hadn’t noticed earlier, and brings it to me. I open it carefully. Inside, on dark velvet, is a di

Killian DavenportThe meeting ends just after six.Chairs push back. Laptops close. Someone laughs at a remark I don’t catch. Two weeks left. The thought has become a quiet countdown running under every hour in this building. The insurance exposure is nearly contained. The investor calls have stopped sounding like threats. The structure will hold without me soon. I can feel the exit approaching, very very close.I step into the hallway with my files under one arm. Emma is already there, two coffee cups in hand. She holds one out.“You looked like you needed this.”I take it. The heat seeps into my palm. “Thanks.”“I ran into Sharon’s daughter at a café earlier.”I stop. “Elena?”“Yes. She was grabbing coffee.”“How did she look? Tired? Stressed?”Emma raises an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”Because she’s my girl. I take a sip of the coffee instead of giving it voice and continue toward my office. Emma doesn’t follow.Inside, I set the cup down and pull out my phone. A notification si

Elena CarsonWe arrive home and I shut the thoughts of him off completely.The decision is deliberate. I put my bag down, wash my hands, and join Nora in the kitchen like the conversation in Killian’s car never happened. She has already pulled out the ingredients from earlier. I take over the pasta while she handles the sauce. The ordinary rhythm of chopping and boiling helps. Steam fogs the edge of the window. The smell of garlic and tomatoes fills the apartment.Nora leans against the counter, watching me stir.“You’re weirdly focused on that pot.”“I’m trying not to burn it.”“You never burn pasta.”“There’s a first time for everything.”She snorts and hands me the salt. We move around each other easily. She tells a story about Nolan mixing up two very different songs during a practice set. I laugh in the right places. When the food is ready we eat on the couch with plates balanced on our knees, the television playing something neither of us fully watches.Between bites Nora s

Elena CarsonI’m not in the mood, but Nora won’t let it go.She announced the “girls’ night” with the kind of force that means resistance is useless, fancy dinner, her treat, no excuses. I tried. I said I was tired. I said I had reading. She pointed at my closet and told me to pick something that wasn’t sweatpants. So I did.The dress is black, long, and fitted enough that I feel every breath. I pair it with the diamond necklace Killian gave me because I told him I wouldn’t take it off, and I meant it. My hair goes into a tight bun. A little makeup, enough to look intentional, not enough to suggest I’m trying. When I step into the living room Nora is waiting in jeans and a simple top, hair in a loose ponytail, looking entirely too comfortable.I stop. “I’m overdressed.”She glances at me. “You look good.”“You’re in jeans.”“And you’re in a whole statement. It’s fine.”“I’m changing.”I turn back toward my room. The doorbell rings before I reach the hallway.Nora moves faster th