Hearts On Campus: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance by Flora Ferrari (top reads txt) 📕

I can’t hide my amazement once the house comes into view.

“Oh. My. God.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Wesley

“Wes?” she whines, her head shaking in disbelief.

“You said a house in the hills, not a mansion… Where are we, another fancy hotel?”

“This is it,” I smile. “Home sweet home.”

At least, I hope it will be for a while.

“That view!” she shrieks. “And the ducks!”

Before I can put the car into park, she’s out the door and racing towards the house.

I think she likes it.

I feel myself smiling wider as I get out, watching her from behind as she gets to the edge of the peak of our hill.

The view is amazing this time of year, the town below looking like a toy. The vastness of the horizon and sea beyond, the spray of autumnal colors in between.

There’s a chilly wind blowing, and a dark mass of clouds is spilling like ink across the sky.

Moving up behind her, I take her waist in one arm and feel her bury herself in close, shielding herself from the wind.

“I love it,” she tells me, answering my next question. Giving me the only reason I’ve ever needed for keeping the place.

“I almost got rid of it once,” I tell her, and her eyes dart to mine.

“Why?”

“You’ll see, c’mon,” I tell her, practically having to drag her towards the place.

“It’s huge,” she marvels as we get closer, the blue-gray stone from the hill itself used to make the place.

A wall of windows, from the decking to where the pitched slate roof starts shows us the interior before we reach the door.

Thick, heavy wooden beams mirror the golden colors of the season, the dark slate floors meeting the stonework inside, giving the impression of a high-end cabin in the woods feel.

“That’s exactly why I almost got rid of it,” I murmur. “Alone in a place built for at least a half a dozen? It gets lonely,” I tell her. “Plus it’s a pain in the ass to keep clean,” I add.

“Looks perfect,” she says, looking around once I let us in.

“Hired help does all that,” I recount, and she punches me gently in the arm.

“I thought this was supposed to be fun, why the long face coming up here?” she asks, and I have to admit it must be out of habit.

“I originally thought the place would be filled with gymnasts and athletes from all over,” I recall.

She looks at her feet, apologizing.

“That’s ancient history though,” I remind us both. “Let’s get inside, we can worry about the luggage later.”

I gravitate towards the kitchen, remembering I didn’t stop for groceries as Katelyn finds the main living areas, gasping as she moves from room to room.

It’s not an empty place, just because it’s not full of people.

There’s heavy wood and leather furniture, an entertainment area, a bar I’ll never use.

There’s even a hot tub out back by the swimming pool. I knew there was one somewhere.

Scanning the fridge, I sigh with relief, someone had the foresight to order groceries for the long weekend. Should be plenty of everything for the next day or two.

I flick on a few lights, noticing how dark it’s getting so early. That weather outside has started to rumble, bringing heavy drops of rain onto the windows.

The golden browns and reds of the maple and ash trees outside start to lean heavily to one side.

“Looks like we got up here just in time, storm coming in by the looks,” Katelyn says, the excitement still in her voice.

“You like?” I ask, holding my hands up, moving them around, wanting her to be happy here more than anything.

“I love it, Wes. It feels like I’ve been here before… like a dream,” she whispers, coming over and clutching me while I circle her with my arms.

“I love you,” I tell her, kissing her head and breathing in the scent of her hair.

“Do you have servants?” she asks, looking up at me with a curious expression, making me laugh.

“No! Not really,” I admit. “Just someone to tend the garden, clean the house and keep it stocked in case I do come up here.”

“Or sell it,” she pouts, and I promise her I won’t sell it.

I couldn’t now, seeing how taken by it she is.

“They only come when I’m not here, and do what needs doing. We’ve got the whole place to ourselves,” I remind her as my eyes start to move over her body.

My jeans feeling awful tight again at the front.

“Wanna see the bedroom?” I ask her, noticing her attention moving outside again.

“What is it?” I ask her.

“The little ducks,” she mews. Stepping over to the windows again, looking out for them.

“They’re built for wet weather, Katelyn,” I tell her. “No need to worry.”

Moving behind her and looking out over the pond with her, I wonder how long it’s been since she’s seen anything off campus.

I ask myself the same thing when I think about the coming season.

“What’s through here?” she finally asks, exploring again with her eyes.

“More of the same, the house is in two parts, like a mirror image of itself on one side,” I explain.

She shivers a little and I offer to get a fire lit.

“I can help,” she volunteers, eagerly moving towards one of the huge fireplaces but I’m on it.

The push of a button on a remote brings it to life, making her step back before she realizes its gas powered.

“We can burn wood in there too if you want, but this is just easier.”

She agrees this is faster and warms herself by the flames.

There’s a flash of lightning from outside, but no sound. The place is almost soundproof with all the stone and inch thick glass.

“It’s so quiet up here,” she muses.

“Too quiet?” I ask, knowing she wouldn’t think that.

“Just right,” she agrees and I move to go get our things from the car.

“There’s plenty of everything in the kitchen if you want something, I’ll grab our gear.”

I want to see the place from the outside, see her inside it.

I