Read Let Love Heal (The Love Series) for Free Online

“Huh? Then how are you a TA?”
    “I’ve just always had a knack for techie stuff, I guess.” He shrugs his rugged shoulders. “I started at the computer lab when I was a freshman, and my boss – I mean, our boss,” he smiles down at me brightly. And, oh yeah, he still hasn’t let go of his death grip around my waist. “Well, when Professor O’Neil saw how much I knew, he promoted me to shift manager. Then, in my sophomore year, he asked me to help out a little more. At the end of my junior year, he asked me if I wanted to be his TA this fall. It’s a pretty sweet gig if you ask me.” He winks at me and I’m pretty sure he’s adding our recent encounters to the sweetness of his job history.
    We stop outside of our classroom and he opens the door for me. Such a gentleman. I’m pretty sure that no one has ever held a door for me, ever. I slide past him, conscious of the heat radiating from his body, but cautious not to actually touch him. My ass gets in the way all the damn time and that’s the last thing I need him to realize.
    Bryan not only walks me to class, but he actually escorts me to a seat in the aisle. Before he walks away from me, he leans down and whispers in my ear. “Now, don’t leave without me.” His warm breath sends shivers down my spine and causes goose bumps to spread like wild fire across my neck. I can’t form words, so I just smile and nod dumbly as he turns to walk toward the front of the room.
    After the rest of the class settles in, the lecture begins. It doesn’t take me long to figure why he put me in an aisle seat. Every time he walks past me, which seems to be fairly frequently, he brushes up against my arm with his. When he hands me a stack of papers to pass down to the rest of the row, his long fingers graze over mine and he winks at me while leaving his hand on mine for longer than he really needs to. He was openly flirting with me before and I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. But now, it’s clear. He’s into me.
    Well, color me surprised. In all my life, no one has ever been interested in me. I have always been the curvy wallflower of the group and I have hated every minute of it. His flirting makes me feel beautiful and important. And it’s not just because he’s gorgeous – though that doesn’t hurt. It’s more about the way that he talks to me, with passion and energy; it’s in the way he touched my nose earlier, with kind tenderness; it’s in the way he looks at me, as if he’s actually seeing the real me.
    As Professor O’Neil, drones on and on about binary code and HTMLs, I get lost thinking about what the hell Bryan sees in me. The only answer I can come up with is that he must have trouble with his vision. I mean, doesn’t he see that I’m not perfect like the stick-thin Barbie girl sitting behind me? Back in the lab, he touched my hair so he had to notice that it was an unruly mess of red waves – not the perfectly, pin-straight blonde locks that all men seem to love and all women long to possess. Walking to class, he had his hand on my waist. He felt the soft give of my flesh – no skin and bones here. Yet, he is still actively making eye contact with me and smiling at me across the room.
    Part of me can’t help but wonder if this is some kind of cruel joke on the chubby chick. God knows that I’ve been there before. I wonder what his motives are. What’s he getting at? Because no matter how much I feel that spark between us, I refuse to believe that he doesn’t have an ulterior motive.
    When class is over, Bryan eyes me amid the shuffle of the other students filtering into the aisles. Holding up one finger, he mouths “Give me one minute.” And that smile, it’s impossible not to smile back at him. So, of course, I do.
    As I’m zipping up my backpack, I hear Barbie girl from behind me talking with her friend. “He’s still so freaking hot,” Blondie says. The tone of her voice has this quality to it that suggests she knows just