Class goes by in a blur. I take half-ass notes but don’t pay attention to much other than Callum’s deep voice as he lectures. It’s nearly as soothing as his strong arms when he holds me at night. When the bell finally rings, I startle at the unexpected shrill tone.

“Miss Reyes,” Callum rumbles. “Can you stay after class?”

I lift my chin, tearing my eyes from my notes to where he sits perched on the edge of his desk. Somewhere during his lecture, he lost his suit jacket. The crisp, white material of his dress shirt stretches to the limits over his broad shoulders and muscular biceps. He’s leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and his plum tie slightly sways in front of him.

I want to wrap my fist in the silky material and pull him to me. To kiss away the frown on his lips and beg him to take us back to where we were two weeks ago. Before all this…drama.

Instead, I gather up my belongings once the last person has left the room, shoulder my bag, and walk toward the front of the room.

“Set your bag down,” Callum instructs when I’m up front.

He slides off the desk and strides over to the classroom door. My eyes follow his ass, barely contained in his charcoal slacks. It’s hard not to drool over this man. His body is perfection, his voice is heaven, and his mouth is an addiction I’m desperate for another hit of.

The door clicks shut, effectively silencing the noise in the hallway. Now, all that can be heard, is the dull roar of blood rushing through my ears.

“Come here.”

His command is deep and authoritative. It leaves no room for argument. Despite my lingering anger and hurt, I find myself obeying him. Needing to be told what to do.

I slowly walk toward him, my knees slightly wobbly, until I’m two feet away from him. He closes the gap, stepping until we’re so close I have to crane my neck to look up at his handsome face.

“Sweetheart, you’re breaking my heart.”

I swallow at his pained words. Concern etches into his face at the tiny crow’s feet near the corners of his eyes and a few lines between his brows. Fierce blue eyes dart over my face, inspecting every detail, every expression.

“Why?” I croak out, swallowing hard.

He lifts a hand, cupping my cheek. My eyes flutter closed and I lean into his touch. “You’re so fucking sad. I can’t stand seeing you this way.”

Tears fill my lids, but I don’t let them spill over, instead blinking several times to chase them away. I attempt to look away—anywhere else—but his thumb presses into my cheek and he clutches my face so I can’t. A whimper crawls out of me as his thumb caresses my skin.