I'm lying to everyone.

I'm lying to my brother and Angelo, the two closest people in the world to me, telling them that I'm dating a history professor instead of Alan's daughter. I'm lying to my colleagues by pretending that I'm not having a completely inappropriate relationship with one of my students. I'm lying to all of my students by pretending that there's nothing going on with one of their peers.

Ever since I went to brunch, I haven't been able to get what Nate said out of my head. His reaction keeps running through my head, playing over and over.

Midlife crisis.

Alan's flesh and blood.

It's four in the morning and I'm outside running through town because I can't sleep. It's cold and foggy and damp, which fits my morose mood well. The music doesn't do anything to help drown out my brother's judgmental words, which seem to repeat over and over in time with the rhythm of my footsteps pounding on the pavement.

Midlife crisis.

Picketing our wedding.

Wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole.

Gabe is the most loyal person I know.

I run faster, trying to drown out the guilty thoughts that come more frequently, the faster I run.

Midlife crisis.

Barely legal.

Inappropriate relationship.

I run until the urge to vomit is overwhelming. I run until I can't catch my breath anymore and have to stop on the side of the road, doubling over because I feel like heaving. I stand there gasping for air, but the thoughts still keep coming.

I need to stop before this goes any farther.

There's still time to stop. I haven't gone all the way with Purity yet. I haven't taken her virginity.

She'd give it to you. She'd give you anything you asked for.

You've already told her that you're taking everything. You've done everything other than fuck her. Would fucking her really be that bad?

It wouldn't be bad at all. It would be amazing.

Out of everyone in the world, I thought my brother would understand. He's always been my best friend. He knows I'm not a creep. He knows I wouldn't try to take advantage of a young girl. Except even Nate, who knows me better than anyone else, doesn't see it like that.

I know it's inappropriate and unprofessional, but I've been trying to convince myself that it's okay.

I need to stop it before it goes farther, before I do something I can't take back. Stopping it is the right thing to do.

After class on Monday, I avoid Purity. When she texts me that afternoon, asking to work on her homework at my house, the thought makes me hard, but I force myself to ignore the message. When she texts me on Tuesday asking if everything is okay, I feel guilty for making her think I'm an asshole. I text back a curt response ("Busy tonight, see you in class tomorrow.") and feel like a complete dick.

The last time I saw her, I told her she was my dirty little girl. Now I'm treating her like she's my dirty little secret.

She deserves more than a tawdry affair with her college professor, more than sneaking around, more than crawling under my desk to suck my cock. She should have an actual relationship with someone her age, someone who can take her out and do something other than keep her a dirty little secret.

Cutting things off would be best for her. It's noble, really.

Tomorrow, I'll give it to her straight.

* * *

I haven't been in my office for more than five minutes after I've finished teaching class when Purity strides in like she owns the place. She shuts the door behind her and speaks before I can say anything. "Is something wrong?"

"Because I've been busy?" I try to keep my tone level, but really I just want to put my mouth on hers, pull her against me, and tell everyone in the rest of the world to go fuck themselves because it's none of their business who I'm sleeping with.

Logically, I know it would be a lot of people's business if they found out I was sleeping with her, because she's a student.

My student.

Which is why I can't bring myself to do it.

"No, not because you haven't had time to have me over," she says. "Because you're kind of being a jerk."

"Did I ever say I wasn't a jerk? I think I warned you that I was not a good man."

"That was different. You warned me about that in the context of…"

Her voice trails off.

"In the context of what?"

"Sex," she whispers, her face coloring.

"We're not having sex," I correct her.

"Yet," she says, then stops when I don't agree. "Ohh. You don't want to? I mean, I thought you wanted to… You said all of those things about me being yours."

I want you more than anything.

I'm a huge asshole.

I shrug. "Those are things you say when you're –"

She interrupts me. "When you're trying to get someone to crawl under your desk and suck your dick?"

Fuck, no.

Those are things you say when you want to possess someone. Those are things you say when you want to own every delicious, irresistible fucking inch of someone, and you don't want anyone else to even look their way. Those are things you say when you want to devour them whole.

I exhale heavily, trying not to say any of those things, because if I do, this conversation will be over, and I'll be spreading her out on top of my desk and fucking her right here with complete disregard for where or who we are.

Judging by the expression on her face, she takes my exhale to mean that she's right. She grimaces and her hand goes to her mouth. "You were one way with me the other day, and now you're someone totally different. Did something happen?"

"Listen, Purity," I start.

She puts up her hand. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"We weren't really together," I tell her. It feels weird even saying it, despite knowing that it's the truth. We've barely done more than a couple of teenagers fooling around.

"Oh. I see." She furrows her brow the way she does when she's upset. "Yeah, sure. I mean… it's no big deal."

It is a big deal.

You're the first woman I've been with in a long time.

"I've been doing some thinking," I say lamely.

She barks out a little laugh. "Um, seriously. It's okay. I'm a big girl. I don't need to be let down gently."

I don't want to let you down at all. I want to pick you up and push you against the wall and fuck the hell out of you and then take you home to my bed and tie you there and never let you go.

"We really shouldn't let things go any farther, Purity. I'm your professor. I let things go too far, and going farther would be a mistake."

"Right," she says, her voice clipped.

"You should be dating someone your own age," I tell her. "Someone who can take you out in public, who isn't hiding you away in his house."

"Of course." Her expression is stony. "Is there anything else, Professor?"

I'm the worst man in the world.