Becoming His Muse, Part Two Read Online Free PDF Page B

turning.
    This part of the campus is deserted. I don’t know what I’m afraid of. I bite my bottom lip.
    “No one can find out,” I say. “Especially not Doctor Tennenbaum.” It’s not just that he sticks to the rules. He certainly wouldn’t want me to risk expulsion in my senior year, but it’s more than that. I have a feeling I’d be a great disappointment to him if he discovered the truth. But he won’t. Not if we’re careful and smart.
    “There’s a parking garage entrance around the left side,” says Logan. “Would you feel better if I went in alone and met you at that door? The stairs there would lead right up to my floor.”
    “Yes,” I nod fervently. “Let’s do that.”
    He chuckles and reaches into his jacket pocket. “This will give me a chance to have a few puffs.”
    I wrinkle up my nose as he lights his cigarette. He saunters across the pedestrian thoroughfare, which, during weekdays allows a river of science students to flow back and forth between the buildings housing engineering, chemistry, physics and biology. Realizing that we are quite a ways away from the arts buildings, where most of my friends take classes, relaxes me somewhat. Even in daylight, it’s doubtful I’d run into anyone I know on this side of campus.
    After Logan’s gone inside, I count to sixty and then walk down the ramp along the side of the building. The fear and excitement I’m feeling amplify all my senses. I hear a single leaf scrape along the pavement, the buzz of an electrical transformer, and in the distance, a train rumbling. The sound of someone laughing makes me freeze. It seems to be coming from one of the apartment windows, none of which look down on this ramp, thankfully. Now, I worry I’m being paranoid. I take a deep breath and remind myself that I might be breaking a rule but it’s not the same as breaking a law.
    The side door to the parking garage swings open.
    “Muses appear in the strangest of places,” Logan says with a grin. He pulls me inside and, once the door shuts behind us, he pushes me up against the cold wall and kisses me. His kiss sends a river of heat down my spine that ignites the soft flesh between my legs. He presses his hips into this flared space and I nearly melt when I feel his hard length through the layers of his pants and my skirt. He pulls away suddenly.
    “Come on. Two flights up.” He takes the stairs two at a time. It’s necessary for me to take them singly given the sudden wobbly jelly-ness of my legs.
    The door to his apartment is at the end of the hall nearest to the stairs we’ve just ascended, which is convenient. His door is unlocked and we slip in.
    Unlike his office, Logan’s apartment is spare and generic, except for a tall stack of books at the bedside and table serving as a desk. My eyes don’t linger on these things for long, instead they focus on the bed, which is Queen sized, neatly made with light grey sheets and a charcoal grey duvet. As Logan heads to the kitchen to get us a drink, I notice that the pillows are fluffier than I’d expect of faculty accommodation, and the pillowcases don’t match the sheets. I wonder if he’s brought those pillows from home, or bought new ones. I touch one. Good quality.
    “You like nice pillows,” I say when he returns with two beers from his fridge.
    “Who doesn’t?” He hands me a cold bottle and then sits on the end of his bed. Still standing, I take a sip of my beer. He watches me with a half smile and a twinkle in his eye.
    I thought we would be all arms and legs flailing as we ripped each other’s clothes off, crashing into walls as we made our way to the bed, breathless and flushed, but this is… just so civilized, so unexpectedly calm. I suppose now that we’ve arrived “safely” we can take all the time we want.
    “Do you like living here?” I say.
    “I don’t care where I live when I’m writing.” He slips his shoes off while he drinks and stares at me standing in front of