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Chapter 17

Deirdre

“There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told.” Edgar Allan Poe

“K ieran and I are kind of…together,” I say, shaking my head sheepishly. It’s not like I’m fucking him to get ahead in class. The way I feel for this enigma of a man is nothing like what I have felt for past boyfriends.

Claire stares at me, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and excitement. For a split second, she just blinks, absorbing the words that just came from my mouth. Then, as if a dam breaks, she lets out a high-pitched squeal and grabs my arm, shaking me like a lunatic.

“I knew it! I freaking knew it! Oh my God, Deirdre!” She bounces on the bed, her eyes gleaming. “About time you told me!”

I roll my eyes, trying, and very much failing, to keep a straight face. “Jesus, Claire. Calm down.”

“Calm down?! Are you serious? You’ve been secretly banging Professor McDreamy, and you want me to calm down ?” She tosses a pillow at me. “I need details , woman. Juicy ones. Don’t hold out on me.”

I sigh, knowing there’s no way I’m getting out of this conversation without giving her at least something .

“All right, all right,” I say, leaning back against the headboard and feeling as giddy as a damn teenager.

Claire dramatically places a hand over her heart. “I solemnly swear not to repeat anything you say…unless it’s too good to keep to myself.”

“Claire.”

“Kidding! Mostly.” She smirks. “Now spill.”

I hesitate, chewing on my bottom lip. My mind drifts back to Kieran’s hands gripping my waist, the way his voice drops to that deep, commanding tone that sends shivers through me. How he always manages to walk that razor-thin line between control and surrender, making me feel both owned and worshipped all at once.

Claire nudges me impatiently. “Don’t you dare fade to black on me, Deirdre. Give me the good stuff.”

I huff a laugh when I hear her say my full name. “Fine. Let’s just say…he’s intense.”

Claire’s grin widens. “ How intense?”

I smirk, shaking my head. “The kind of intense where I never have to wonder if I’m the only thing on his mind when we’re together. The kind where he looks at me and I feel it everywhere.”

Claire lets out a dramatic groan and flops back against the bed.

“This is so unfair. You’re living out a forbidden academia fantasy while I’m out here dodging douchebags like Brandon and fake-passing-out on Tyler.” She sits up again, her face beaming with excitement. “Tell me he’s a little rough.”

I bite my lip, the memory of Kieran smacking my ass for the first time flashes through my mind. I squirm on the bed.

Claire gasps. “Oh my God, he is !”

I cover my face with my hands as I feel my cheeks redden. “Claire…”

“No, no, you don’t get to be shy about this now!” She yanks my hands away. “Tell me everything . Does he talk dirty? Please tell me he talks dirty.”

I groan, but my cheeks burn with heat. “Claire, I am not giving you a play-by-play.”

“But he does , doesn’t he?” She’s practically vibrating at this point.

I exhale, feeling defeated. “Yes. And he knows exactly what he’s doing to me when he does it.”

Claire lets out a strangled whimper. “I hate you.”

I laugh. “No, you don’t.”

“Okay, fine, I don’t hate you. But I am incredibly jealous.” She flops back onto her pillows, staring at the ceiling. “It’s like you’re living in a romance novel, and I’m the best friend who gets to live vicariously through you.”

The lightheartedness in the room is comforting and safe , a complete opposite of how I felt earlier tonight, but the reality settles back onto my shoulders like an unwelcome guest.

I shift, turning toward her. “Claire…”

She hums in response but must catch the change in my tone, because she looks at me with sudden seriousness.

“You can’t say anything. To anyone .” My voice is softer now, but the urgency is there. “If people find out, he could lose his job. I could get expelled. This isn’t just some fun little secret; it’s dangerous. It was bad enough tonight when he just happened to show up at the party.”

Claire’s playful expression fades, and she sits up straighter. “D, I wouldn’t say anything. I swear. You know that.”

I nod, exhaling in relief. “I know . I just…I can’t risk it. We can’t.”

She reaches for my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I get it. I really do.” Then she smirks, just a little. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t still beg for details.”

I laugh despite myself, shaking my head. “Of course you will.”

Claire flops back onto the bed, sighing dramatically. “Ugh, I can’t believe you get to have all this mind-blowing sex with a ridiculously hot professor, and I get stuck with Tyler the human sleep aid.”

I roll my eyes. “You’ll find someone.”

She lets out a thoughtful hum, then suddenly props herself up on her elbows. “You know…maybe I should give Gabe another chance.”

I raise a brow. “ Gabe? The same Gabe you shot down like a week ago after he brought you to eat tacos?” I joke. “Ya know, every woman’s love language?”

Claire mocks defense. “Okay, first of all, I did not shoot him down. I just didn’t text him back. Maybe he thinks I’m playing hard to get. And second, I was distracted by the whole fraternity guy situation.” She purses her lips. “But he was cute. And he had a decent sense of humor. And most importantly, he did not bore me into a coma.”

I smirk. “So, what? You’re gonna text him?”

Claire pulls out her phone, contemplating it for a moment but then arches her brow. “Or we could just show up at the club tomorrow night, and I’ll be looking especially irresistible.”

I shake my head with a laugh. “You are ridiculous .”

She grins. “I prefer ‘strategic.’”

I watch her for a moment, her usual confidence restored, before sighing. “Just…don’t hurt him, Claire. He’s like my big brother.”

She glances up, her smirk softening. “I promise, D.”

After our conversation winds down, Claire and I move around the dorm, getting ready for bed. The excitement from the night still lingers in the air, but exhaustion is starting to settle in. Claire tugs off her sweater and pulls her hair into a messy bun before flopping onto her bed and scrolling through her phone.

“You know,” she muses, kicking her feet in the air, “If we’re going to Salvation this weekend, we have to wear something hot.”

I pause mid-swipe of my makeup remover. “Define your idea of hot.”

She grins. “I have a slinky black dress you could wear.”

I crinkle my nose at wearing one of her skintight mini dresses, but she continues. “I feel like we should go all out this time. Shake off the stress from tonight. A little dancing, a little drinking…and maybe you should invite a certain someone.”

I snort, tossing my makeup wipe in the trash. “Yeah, because that’ll go over well.”

Claire shrugs. “You never know. Maybe he’s secretly a freak on the dance floor, too.”

I roll my eyes, but my stomach flutters at the thought. “You’re relentless.”

“You love it.” She winks. “Text him.”

I hesitate, but the idea of seeing him outside of campus, outside of our usual stolen moments and the privacy of his home, sends a thrill through me. Salvation is a safe place, right? No one knows I’m his student or that he is my professor except for Claire and Gabe. I’ve certainly never seen President Sheridan at the club.

I grab my phone and type out a quick message.

Deirdre: We’re going to Salvation tomorrow night. You should come.

I hit send before I can overthink it and set my phone down on my nightstand. Claire is already getting comfortable under her blankets and watching me with barely concealed amusement.

“Ooooh, the anticipation,” she teases, wiggling her fingers dramatically.

“Shut up,” I mutter, chucking a pillow at her.

Before she can retaliate, my phone buzzes. I grab it quickly. My shoulders slump, and my fleeting excitement fades when I read his response.

Professor McKnight: As tempting as that sounds, Miss Ravencroft, I have some business to take care of.

A strange, unsettled feeling washes over me. It’s a Saturday night, and we will be at the club that he is an anonymous shareholder in. What could he possibly be doing? It’s not like he is going to be grading papers over the weekend. I can feel the familiar tightness in my chest as the anxiety builds.

I press my lips together and try to ignore the small pang of disappointment.

I type back before I can stop myself.

Deirdre: What kind of business?

The dots appear, then vanish. Appear again. Then, nothing.

I stare at the screen, waiting, but the response never comes. My stomach twists, and a quiet unease settles into my bones.

Then finally a response comes through.

Professor McKnight: You should get some sleep. I’ll see you in class on Monday.

I frown at the screen, my fingers tightening around my phone. Does he regret tonight?

Claire watches me curiously from across the room. “Everything good?”

I force a smile. “Yeah. He’s just busy.”

She hums, unconvinced, but doesn’t press. Instead, she yawns and burrows deeper into her blankets. “Well, his loss. More fun for us.”

I nod, but my mind is racing. Thoughts of Miss Legs for Days flash through my mind for a brief second.

I shake the thought away before my brain has a chance to run wild.

What could Kieran possibly be doing that he can’t—or won’t—tell me?