Page 16 of Teach Me

Cam:That’s fine. Keep it simple, right? No names, no strings, no expectations.

Mr. Mystery:No names, no strings, no expectations.

Mr. Mystery:It was good chatting with you. Goodnight until next time.

Cam:Same goes. Goodnight.

8

GRADY

“Not a sight you see very often in February,” I said, slowing my pace beside the bench where Cameron had parked himself. He was the only student sitting on the benches scattered along the campus sidewalks as far as my eye could see, although there were plenty of folks bustling in and out of the buildings or jogging across the quad, trying to make dirty snowballs from the most recent snowfall. Next to him, a half-eaten sandwich on a baggie lay atop two books.

Cameron glanced up from his phone and flashed me a smile. “I know, I probably look like a weirdo.” He glanced around. “Definitely a weirdo. Between work and school, it feels like I’m inside a lot and—” He cut himself off and shrugged. “It’s not that cold, anyway.”

“Your sandwich is growing icicles,” I teased, amused when he glanced down to confirm my fib and then cut his gaze back up with a soft snort.

“You can sit, if you want.” Cameron seemed hesitant as he offered, and I wasn’t sure if it was because I was his professor and he thought he might be crossing a boundary or because he was hoping I’d just move on.

After momentarily wrestling with my own hesitation, I sat, easing the strap of my messenger bag from my shoulder and setting it gingerly next to me. I ticked my chin toward the sandwich. “I’m surprised you don’t avail yourself of cafe leftovers. Don’t you get an employee discount?”

“I do, but I’ve got this one roommate, Sam.” He rolled his eyes, though there was affection in it. “He’s on the football team. Massive guy, eats a ton. I’ll bring home a bunch of leftover biscuits sometimes from breakfast shift, thinking they’ll last us for days, and they’re gone before noon. Usually because of Sam. His boyfriend, Jesse, my other roommate, is an awesome cook, but even he can’t keep up with Sam’s appetite. Jesse is tiny compared to Sam, and sometimes he’ll try to give Sam a run for his money, especially on dress-your-dog night. It’s fun to watch.”

“Jesse’s no Kobayashi, then?” I grinned, picturing it, and Cameron chuckled. “So, you and your roommates have food theme nights?”

“Not always, because we forget, but then Jesse will remember and come up with a theme. Dress your dog is one of his favorites. He lays out a bunch of different toppings. You can go Chicago style, Coney Island, New York, the works, and he will judge your choices as you go.”

“God, makes my four years of dorm living and cafeteria shuffling as an undergrad sound extremely dull.”

“Nah, I promise you I’m the dullest one of the bunch.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.” There was too much light dancing in his eyes and good humor in his grin for me to ever consider Cameron dull, and whenever he spoke in class, it was thoughtful and considered. He fascinated me, a feeling I’d not experienced with previous students. As pointless as it might be, considering I might never see him again once he completed my class, I wanted to know more about him. “Are Sam and Jesse your only two roommates?”

“Nope. There’s Ansel—he’s on the track team. Super focused but cool. And Mark. His boyfriend, Chet, might as well be our sixth roommate, though. He stays over a lot. That guy I sit next to in class?”

“The blond one with post-nut regret?”

Cameron barked out a surprised laugh and nodded. “That’s Nate. He used to live in the house, but he got together with this other guy who used to live there, too, Eric, and they decided to live together for senior year.”

“Wow.” I blinked, struggling to keep all the threads connected. “Sounds like soap opera fodder.”

“I know. It sounds batshit crazy, right? Tangled webs.” He winced. “Sorry about the cursing. And the mixed metaphor.”

“My ears will never be the same,” I said drolly. Cameron’s resulting smirk was beguiling against his crystalline eyes and golden hair in a way that prickled across the nape of my neck. I blinked away from it. The bathroom encounters with my stranger had apparently roused my libido far more than I’d wanted it to, into overstepping territory. Cameron was my student, not a hookup, and besides, the guy had a wholesome appearance that would probably frown on anything like anonymous glory holes. Something about the mischief in his smirk made me wonder, though. Christ, I needed to abandon that line of thought.

“I know it sounds ridiculous. Usually, I try to avoid explaining it. Sometimes I wonder what will happen when we leave, though, and new people move in. Is the house some kind of cosmic vortex of love?” He waved a hand in the air dismissively before I could reply. “Anyway, what I meant to say was I get plenty of food for free, but sometimes a simple sandwich is nice.” He picked it up and took a bite, as if in demonstration. “Mmmm, icicle turkey. Divine.”

“Hmm.” I stared at the sandwich as it met his lips, thankfully barely noticing he had a really attractive mouth, as an idea tried to take shape.

“Hmm, meaning you don’t like sandwiches? Just omelets?” he teased, lips curving upward.

“No, I…” I hesitated before deciding this counted as casual conversation. “My agent asked me for an additional chapter on decision fatigue for a book I’m working on, and I’ve been trying to figure out how to begin and what to include.”

“And my turkey sandwich has enlightened you?”

“Possibly,” I debated.

“Does that mean I automatically get an A on the final exam?” He waggled his brows, and I snorted.