Page 24

Chapter 23

Deirdre

“The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I swore revenge.” Edgar Allan Poe

T he moment the auditorium comes into view, I see Claire waiting for me at the glass double doors. We’re early today.

As we pass Kieran’s desk, we both turn in our comparative papers at the front of the room. As we reach our usual seats, I notice the journal sitting on top of the old wood.

My eyes sweep the room, hesitating before I open it. My pulse begins to race as I run my fingers over the leather cover. I crinkle my brow for a moment, and then slowly I open the book. I can hear Claire’s voice in the distant background as I read his words, my heart hammering a little too hard in my chest. I bite my lip. And then, slowly, I lift my eyes from the page and gently close the book. Hugging the journal to my chest, I let out an exhale of relief.

This entry is him giving himself to me. All of him.

I have to pull myself from my thoughts as Claire’s voice grows. I notice she’s leaning in toward me, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“Okay, spill. Now,” she whispers, her face lighting up with mischief as she bounces slightly in her seat.

I smirk, flipping open my notebook like I have no idea what she’s talking about. “Patience, Thompson.”

Claire groans, dramatically flopping against the desk. “Ugh, you’re cruel. But we’re having a full debrief after class. No excuses.”

I chuckle, giving her an indulgent look before straightening in my seat. The air in the room suddenly shifts, a hush falling over the students as the lecture hall door swings open.

Kieran strides in, his presence commanding without an ounce of effort. He’s in his usual dark attire and crisp button-down, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the strong lines of his forearms. His expression is as composed as ever, but there’s an energy in the room, a tension that wasn’t there before.

I glance around, noticing the way students sit up a little straighter, how some exchange uncertain glances. That’s when I realize—most of them were at the fraternity party Friday night. Most of them saw Brandon make a drunken fool of himself.

And yet, Brandon isn’t here.

A flicker of unease runs through me, but before I can dwell on it, Kieran’s smooth, authoritative voice cuts through the silence.

“Now that the midterm assignment is out of the way, we can focus on something a bit more…unhinged.” He places his hands on the podium, eyes sweeping across the class.

A few students shift uncomfortably, others nod their heads in interest.

“Today, we’ll be analyzing The Cask of Amontillado , a tale of calculated revenge, deception, and, of course, a slow, agonizing death by entombment.” His lips twitch slightly, as if amused by the grimness of it. “I do hope none of you have claustrophobia.”

“Well, today’s lecture is dark,” Claire leans over and whispers.

I shiver involuntarily, but it’s not entirely from the story. My eyes flick to Kieran’s, and for the briefest moment, I swear there’s something lurking beneath his composed demeanor.

Something darker.

By the time the lecture ends, students are on the edge of their seats. He straightens at the podium, an amused smirk now playing on his face.

“Don’t worry,” he says smoothly, “you get a reprieve. I won’t be making you analyze this work. It’s much too dark for some of you.”

His gaze sweeps across the room, and for a fraction of a second, I think it lingers on me. My stomach twists, whether from excitement or nerves, I can’t tell.

Claire loops her arm through mine the second we step out of the lecture hall after being dismissed from The Five Sides of Poe . She’s practically vibrating with impatience.

“All right, no more stalling. Spill, D. I want every single detail, and if you leave anything out, I will know.”

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head as we make our way across the campus courtyard toward the small bistro tucked between the student center and the library. The crisp autumn air carries the scent of coffee and fresh bread, and students cluster around outdoor tables, chatting and enjoying the break between classes.

But as much as I want to bask in Claire’s playful energy, my mind keeps circling back to something else.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that Brandon wasn’t in class today?” I ask, slowing my steps.

Claire scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“No. I think he probably has his dick tucked between his legs and doesn’t want to show off the shiner that Professor McKnight laid on him.” She arches her brows at me, clearly amused by the whole situation.

I let out a short laugh, but something about it doesn’t sit right with me. I can’t explain why, but it feels like more than just embarrassment is keeping Brandon away.

“Yeah…maybe,” I murmur, but I don’t sound convinced, not even to myself.

Claire, completely oblivious to my unease, pushes open the bistro’s door, and the smell of warm paninis and roasted espresso instantly wraps around us. The place is bustling with students grabbing lunch, but we manage to snag a small table near the window.

We eat quickly, mostly because Claire is starving and inhales her sandwich like she hasn’t eaten in days. The conversation shifts, thankfully, and we both groan about how every other professor has decided to pick up the slack since Kieran— Professor McKnight —didn’t assign any additional work. A small mercy, considering the amount of reading and research already piling up from our other classes.

By the time we’re walking back to the dorms, my stomach is full, and I should be feeling relaxed, but that uneasy feeling still lingers. Maybe Claire is right. Maybe Brandon is just embarrassed and licking his wounds.

So why do I have this nagging feeling that something isn’t right?

As we walk through the courtyard, I can feel the afternoon air getting cooler. The grounds are alive with students, some lounging on the grass with open textbooks, others huddled over their laptops at the picnic tables, nursing overpriced lattes.

“Sooo…” I drawl out the word, knowing Claire’s been dying to spill. “How was your date with Gabe?”

Claire practically glows, her eyes shining with excitement. “Ugh, so good. First, we went to dinner, that hole-in-the-wall Italian place with candlelight and the best lasagna I’ve ever had in my life. Then, we saw a thriller that just came out. It was, like, scary, but not too scary. Just enough for me to have an excuse to grab onto him, you know?” She giggles.

I snort. “You’re so transparent.”

She waves me off.

“Please, I was giving him exactly what he wanted.” She sighs dreamily. “After the movie, we went back to his place, and let’s just say I now have zero regrets about seeing where this thing with him goes.”

I groan, already seeing where this is headed. “Claire…”

She grins wickedly. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll spare you the gory details... But you know he’s amazing with his hands, right? Like, I mean, amazing… ”

I slap a hand over my face. “Okay, whoa. You’re forgetting that Gabe is basically the older brother I never had.”

Claire cackles. “That sounds like a you problem. Besides, if someone would finally spill about their evening, I wouldn’t have to traumatize you with mine.”

I groan, dragging my hands down my face. “God, you’re relentless.”

She beams. “And proud of it.”

I bite my lip, debating. I know she won’t let up until I give her something . And honestly, after last night, I’m still floating. Maybe a little gloating isn’t the worst thing.

This time, I’m the one to sigh dramatically. “Fine.”

Claire perks up instantly. “ Yes ! Give me the good stuff. What happened when I left the library? Where did y’all go? I mean…he looked like he was about to fuck you nine ways to Sunday in the library.”

I can feel my cheeks redden.

“Shut the fuck up!! You didn’t?!”

Attempting to lie, I shake my head no quickly, but the giddy smile plastered across my face leaves no room for imagination.

Claire smacks my arm. “You slut! What else happened?” she asks, excitedly, practically yanking on my arm as if that will pull the details from me quicker.

I glance around to make sure no one’s close enough to hear, then lower my voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever run across the courtyard faster than I did last night.”

Claire gasps. “ Shut up ,” she repeats.

I smirk. “And when I got to the dorm, I barely had enough time to catch my breath before he walked in and…” I trail off, letting the implication hang.

Claire squeals like a damn schoolgirl, gripping my arm. “Oh my God , D! Was it…?”

I bite my lip, then nod. “Amazing. I swear, I don’t think I’ve ever…” I exhale, shaking my head. “He’s just so…Every time we’ve…” I stutter. I can’t even get my words out because now the heat is rushing to a completely different part of my body.

“Wait…Every time? How many times have you banged Professor McDreamy?”

I look at her sheepishly. “Uhh…three.”

Claire fans herself in a dramatic fashion. “So, I take it Professor McKnight doesn’t just lecture well, then, huh?”

Now it’s my turn, I glare at her, my face heating. “Shut up.”

She only laughs, looping her arm back through mine. “Nope, too late. I need every detail later. And if you try to downplay it, I will drag it out of you.”

I shake my head, laughing despite myself. “You’re impossible.”

She teases. “And you love me for it.”

I roll my eyes, but deep down, I know she’s right.

Later that evening, the dorm is filled with the scent of our takeout, a mix of greasy lo Mein and crispy dumplings that makes my stomach growl in anticipation. Claire is already curled up on my bed, setting up the laptop until she finds our comfort show, Grey’s Anatomy , season three, because according to her, this is the peak of the series.

I settle in beside her, stretching out my legs as I dig into the takeout bag. Just as I’m about to pop a dumpling into my mouth, my phone vibrates on the coffee table.

Kieran.

Professor McKnight: How are you feeling after last night?

A slow heat spreads through me as I chew my lip, fingers hovering over my keyboard before I finally type out my response.

Deirdre: A little sore, but I enjoyed every minute.

The three little dots appear immediately.

Professor McKnight: Good. A little reminder of where I was last night.

I swallow hard, my whole body warming at his words. Before I can even process how much I love his control over me, a loud, high-pitched squeal pierces my ears.

“ Slut ,” Claire sings, laughing as she peers over my shoulder.

I gasp, clutching my phone to my chest. “ Claire! ”

She only cackles, flopping back onto the bed like she’s won some kind of victory. “God, I’m not at all jealous of you.”

I shake my head, trying to cool my face with my hands. “You have Gabe.”

“I wonder if I could convince him to fuck me in random places,” she says, tossing a dumpling into her mouth.

I roll my eyes, focusing back on my phone, but Kieran doesn’t send anything else. Instead of overanalyzing it, because God knows I could, I lock the screen and grab my own container of noodles, determined to get through one episode without being completely derailed.

Halfway through the show, as Meredith is making another questionable life decision, Claire suddenly gasps, her whole face lighting up like she’s just had the best idea in the world.

“Oh my God ,” she says, sitting up so fast her takeout nearly spills. “Double date.”

I blink. “What?”

“You. Me. Gabe. Kieran. Double date. Saturday night,” she says, clapping her hands together. “It’s perfect!”

I nearly choke on my noodles. “Claire, are you insane?”

“Oh, come on ,” she whines, nudging me with her foot. “It’ll be fun! We don’t even have to do it here in New Haven. We could go somewhere on the outskirts of town.”

I just stare at her. “You really think Kieran is the double date type?”

“I think you are,” she counters, smirking. “And that means he will follow you like a puppy.”

I groan, pressing my chopsticks to my forehead. “Claire…”

“ Ask him! ” she interrupts, grabbing my phone and shoving it into my hands.

I gape at her, then down at my screen.

Kieran.

A double date.

Yeah, this is going to go over so well.

I stare at my phone, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as Claire watches me like a hawk, practically bouncing with anticipation. The idea of texting Kieran about this insane idea feels ridiculous, but I know she won’t let up until I do.

With a sigh, I give in.

Deirdre: So... Claire has this crazy idea for a double date. You, me, her, and Gabe. Somewhere outside New Haven. I told her you’d probably say no, but here I am, asking anyway.

I send it and immediately regret it, pressing the phone to my chest as Claire squeals beside me. “Oh my God, you did it!”

“You act like I just proposed to him.”

“Same energy.”

Before I can swat her with a pillow, my phone vibrates.

Professor McKnight: I’d love to.

I blink. Then blink again.

“What?” Claire asks, leaning closer. “What’d he say?”

I turn my screen so she can see it. Her jaw drops. “ He said yes?! ”

“ He said yes, ” I echo, still trying to process it.

Deirdre: Wait. You want to go?

Professor McKnight: Why do you seem so surprised?

Deirdre: Because…we have a secret relationship? And secret relationships don’t usually include double dates with friends in public?

Professor McKnight: I want to go out with you and your friends. I’m sure Miss Thompson will plan something that’s...appropriate.

I snort, shaking my head as Claire nudges me eagerly. “Well? What’d he say now?”

“He said he wants to go and that you’ll plan something appropriate .”

Claire cackles. “Appropriate? God, he really is a professor.”

“Yeah, he can’t turn that off.” I roll my eyes but can’t stop the small smile tugging at my lips. “I seriously can’t believe he agreed.”

“Hmm…Maybe he just wants to spend time with you in public,” Claire teases.

I bite my lip, warmth blooming in my chest at the thought. Kieran, out with me. With my friends. Not just stolen moments behind closed doors.

“Well,” Claire says, stretching her legs across the couch dramatically. “Looks like we have a double date to plan.”

I glance at my phone again, rereading his messages before locking my screen. Saturday suddenly feels way too far away.