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“I followed the research updates the company sent out.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You did?”

“Only the ones with your name in them.”

Dammit. My stomach fluttered with longing and lust and need.

“That’s very thorough of you,” I said, trying for sarcastic but landing somewhere around breathless.

“I tried not to,” he said, voice low. “But every time I thought I’d moved on, another email update would arrive, and I’d scour it for any mention of you.”

“You could have unsubscribed to the emails.”

“Not a chance.”

I couldn’t breathe. “Brooks.”

He met my eyes. “Maisy.”

I swallowed hard. “What are we doing here?”

He gave a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I think we’re trying to figure that out.”

I nodded slowly.

Neither of us moved.

Yet, everything felt like it was shifting. The air. The world. The entire universe.

“And how was teaching at Cambridge? Did you enjoy it?” I asked.

“Thoroughly. I found a new passion. I’m talking to some people at a few of the universities here about opportunities to lecture or teach.”

“You’d be amazing at it.” I agreed, but didn’t add how he’d be the type of professor the girls would all swoon over. His classes would be filled, every seat. It’s a wonder he didn’t end up with a coed after Cambridge, but for all I knew, he might have.

His phone rang out with a notification, and it was like breaking a spell between us. He shook his head. “Well, I should get back to the office. Congratulations on the job.”

“Thanks.”

“Guess I left something behind.” His gaze dropped briefly to the scarf. He held out his hand.

“Oh. Right.” I handed it out to him, fingers brushing his in the transfer—electricity crackling between us like the first time we met and touched so long ago. His hand lingered for a second longer than necessary before taking it back. My body yearned to be against his, my arms wrapped around his neck instead of the scarf.

Now that we’d broken the ice, a hundred things to say or ask landed on the tip of my tongue. I didn’t want our time to end.Did he remember the last time we saw each other? Any regrets not doing more to stop me when I walked away?

But I didn’t voice a single one.

“See you around.” He suddenly turned, but at the door, he hesitated and looked back at me. His eyes trailed up my body until they locked with mine once again. “It was real good to see you, Maisy.”

He left, and I stood there, heart thudding, wishing for the hundredth time that fate’s timing wasn’t such a cruel thing.

I didn’t follow him.

But I’d bet neither of us walked away quite the same.

4

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