Page 31

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ELLIOT

“ O kay, that’ll do it for today. I’ll need your papers in my inbox by next Thursday, and if you’re only planning to start Wednesday, I’d advise against it. I’ll know, and it won’t end well for you.”

A chorus of groans sounds from all around the classroom, and I grin at the twenty or so students scattered around.

“Give me a break guys—you’re grad students.

Some of you are PhD students. It’s not like you didn’t know there was going to be, like, actual work to do here.

So go, do the work, learn all the things. See you next week.”

Scanning the second row, I lock eyes with Amelia, who is slipping her notebook into her bag, and toss her a surreptitious wink. She flushes and shakes her head, giving me a cut the shit look that immediately has my dick twitching.

It’s been over a week since Amelia and I started…

whatever it is we started between us, and I can honestly say I’ve never had more fun at school in my life.

Would I like to be able to walk around campus holding her hand and kiss her wherever and whenever I want?

Damn right I would. But there’s something about hiding this from everyone that is just really doing it for me.

Every look feels heavy and charged. Every secret brush of our fingers feels loaded with meaning.

Every time she’s in my office for something routine, it feels forbidden.

“Professor Wyles, a moment please?”

Amelia’s eyes widen and she busies herself with her bag as I snap my head around at the sound of Dean Miller’s voice and internally wince. It’s a sudden, stark reminder that not everything is fun and that what we’re doing has real and potentially damaging consequences if we’re not careful.

He strides into my classroom, chest puffed out like he’s the ruler of the damn universe or something.

He’s wearing a suit and tie and looks completely out of place for the halls of a computer science graduate school where the dress code is more, whatever you rolled out of bed in because you were probably up all night coding .

I’ve always had a sneaking suspicion that this man wouldn’t know JavaScript from Python with a gun to his head, but I’ve never been able to prove it.

He’s the absolute definition of a mediocre white man.

“You stay, too, Ms. Sullivan.”

Amelia freezes in her attempt to make it to the classroom door unnoticed and spins around, the look on her face so casual you would think she was entirely unbothered by Dean Miller’s request, if not for the way she grips her mug so tightly her fingers turn white.

“Good to see you, Dean Miller. What can I do for you?”

The dean looks back and forth between the two of us, pausing in a way I’m sure is meant to intimidate. Finally, his gaze lands on me. “I saw that you are Ms. Sullivan’s research advisor.”

I cross my arms and stand to my full height, which is several inches taller than him. A better man wouldn’t get satisfaction from that, but right now, I am not a better man. “I am.”

He nods, turning to Amelia. “And are you finding Professor Wyles’ advisory methods satisfactory?”

I’m sure the dean misses the unholy gleam in Amelia’s eyes that disappears as quickly as it appears, but I sure don’t.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.

“I’m sure you’re aware that Professor Wyles is really quite brilliant, and his advisory methods are more than satisfactory.

One could even say they are exceptional.

The very best I’ve ever experienced.” Her eyes dart to mine quickly, and I see the smirk she doesn’t give me.

Little hellion.

My brain immediately goes to some really, really filthy places that absolutely don’t belong in my classroom when the dean is standing right in front of me.

Dean Miller nods. “I’m happy to hear that.

” Then he turns to me. “Professor Wyles, I’m not sure you are aware, but Ms. Sullivan is an extremely important member of this institution.

You should consider your role as her advisor to be your top priority.

I trust that you won’t do anything that would get in the way of your ability to advise her through her PhD program or jeopardize her standing at MassTech.

Or your own. If that happens, there will obviously be consequences. ”

“Never, Dean Miller,” I manage, trying to keep my gaze off Amelia, who I can see without even looking has flipped from bratty to rage-filled in two seconds flat.

“Good.” He nods, and with one final glance between the two of us, he turns and strides out of the classroom to, I’m sure, go ruin someone else’s day. Asshole.

The second he disappears out the door, Amelia’s mouth opens, but I put a hand on her arm before she can speak. “Not here, Ames.”

She gives me a jerky nod, the line of her shoulders rigid with barely contained fury. I grab my laptop and coffee cup, and she follows me down the hall to my office. The second the door is closed, she whirls on me, rage exploding out of her.

“That motherfucker,” she seethes. “Extremely important member of this community, Jesus Christ. He can fuck right off with that. What he means is that he wants my brother’s money but he’s too up his own ass to know my brother doesn’t make donations to jerks.

And joke’s on him because my brother doesn’t even know I go here.

” Her shoulders fall and she drops her bag to the floor, running an exasperated hand through her hair as all the fight drains out of her.

“Maybe I should just tell him. Gabe, I mean. I don’t even know why I kept it from him. It seems so stupid now.”

I take a step closer to her, cupping her face with both of my hands.

“Because you wanted to carve out a space for yourself. And you deserve that, Amelia. You deserve to have something that belongs only to you and no one else. And if the way to have that was to keep your brother out of the loop for a while, that’s okay.

It’s your decision who you tell and when.

No one else’s. It’s your life, Amelia. Live it for you. ”

Amelia takes a deep breath and leans into my touch in a way that has my heart knocking against my ribs.

Then she straightens her shoulders and grabs my hips, tugging me closer to her and bringing her lips to mine in a fierce kiss that I feel everywhere.

My hands drop down to her neck, where I stroke my thumb up and down along her pulse point as she coaxes my mouth open with her tongue and licks my bottom lip before diving inside.

I groan into her mouth at the taste of her, at the way our tongues twine together, at the way her arms tighten around my waist and she pushes her hips against mine, grinding over my cock that’s already hard and leaking for her. Fuck.

“One of these days, you’re going to fuck me in this office,” she pants against my mouth. “Do all those very bad things you mentioned right on top of your desk.”

Before I have a chance to respond, she seals her mouth back over mine in a long, slow, drugging kiss that has my brain spinning and my cock pulsing. When she pulls away, I lean forward, desperate for more of her, but she steps out of reach, a smirk on her face. “But not today.”

I blow out a breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. “Why not today? Today is the best day because it’s today.”

She chuckles. “I’m sure that made some kind of sense in your head. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For reminding me that I get to live my own fucking life. For tugging me out of my minor guilt spiral.”

I step forward again, taking her hand. “You don’t have anything to feel guilty about. You’ll tell Gabe when the time is right. Until then, you do you, Ames. Because the you I know is spectacular.”

She grins at me. “I am pretty spectacular, aren’t I?”

I lean in and kiss her nose. “Bet your ass.”

Reaching down, she picks up her bag and sits down in one of my chairs. “I’ll tell Gabe. Eventually. When the time is right. Or he’ll find out some other way, which wouldn’t be ideal, but it would save me the trouble of doing it myself, so it might even be worth it.”

The way she says it makes me think what she really wants is for Gabe to know, but she’s spent so much time not telling him that it’s easier to keep walking down this path. And fuck if I’m not familiar with that thought process.

She pauses for a second before speaking again. “So, do you think Dean Miller suspects something? That whole don’t do anything to jeopardize my standing here was cryptically weird, right?”

I take the chair next to her and lean forward, taking her hand again and stroking my thumb over her wrist, feeling her pulse beat steadily. “I wish I could say no, but I think that man was just born suspicious. I hate it, but I would really understand if you wanted to back off.”

Amelia scoffs. “You keep saying that, and I know you’re giving me an out, but I don’t want it. Stop trying to break up with me, dude.”

Everything inside me glows bright at her words, and I press a kiss to her knuckles. “Break up with you? That presupposes that there is something that could be broken. Is there something here, Mystery Girl? Are we doing the thing?”

“Oh, we’re doing it, my guy. This is happening.”

I grin at her. “Does that mean I get to call you my girlfriend? Outside this damn school I mean.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Aren’t you a little old for labels like boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Fuck no. I love a label. I live for a label. A label means you’re mine. Want to be mine, Ames? I would really like to be yours.”

She shrugs casually, even as her eyes light up and her face goes soft. “I mean, you’re really nice to look at, and I super like that thing you do with your tongue.”

I stand, pulling her to her feet and wrapping my arms around her waist, leaning my forehead against hers. “Be mine and I’ll do it anytime you want. We can even go do it right now.”

She laughs, draping her arms over my shoulders and pressing her lips to mine.

“I’m already yours, El. I’m pretty sure I’ve been yours since you saw the TSA agent rifling through my underwear.

And definitely yes to the thing with your tongue, but first, we’ve got work to do.

I found something you’re going to want to see. ”

“What kind of something?”

“The kind that brings us one step closer to finding Henry.”

“Tell me.”

She shakes her head. “It would be easier if I showed you. Come to my house?”

I reach down and grab her bag, swinging it over my shoulder then grabbing my own. I just barely resist the urge to take her hand. I’m her advisor, so a meeting behind closed doors is normal, but holding hands is absolutely not. “Lead the way, Mystery Girl.”