Page 61 of Teach Me
We kept it on the level. Grady started coming to the cafe again. Sometimes he was in my section, and we’d chat and laugh like we had before we’d ever gotten together, when I was just his student and he was just my professor. It was innocuous enough, even if seeing his smile still made my heart slam in my chest and my stomach swoop.
The last time I saw him was at the cafe three days before my roommates graduated. He’d had nearly an entire pot of coffee and an omelet before he called for the check.
“I suppose I’m just delaying the inevitable,” he said when I set it down in front of him.
“The inevitable?” I cocked an eyebrow.
He chuckled, running a hand through his hair and mussing it, and I ached to smooth it back into place, but I kept my hands to myself. “I haven’t packed yet, and my flight to New York leaves at 8:00 a.m.”
“Better get on that, Professor. Wouldn’t want to miss the first day of your own tour. That would probably be considered poor form.”
“Probably.” He shrugged, and then his gaze locked with mine. “It’s just that the house is so quiet.”
“I’m sure a man of your intellect isn’t scared of a little quiet,” I teased.
“Scared, no.” A small smile played over his lips. “Just very cognizant of the sounds that filled it before. And missing them very much.”
Electricity rippled through me, and I fought to keep my composure when what I wanted to do was lurch across the table into his arms. We were perfectly capable of keeping our conversations vague and lighthearted were anyone to overhear but damn near helpless to prevent the palpable tension that often descended between us.
My blood thrummed as Grady reached out to hand me the check, his card on top. His fingers brushed over mine, leaving behind a trail of heat that seared through my veins and became a heady warmth twisting my gut into a pleasurable knot.
I inhaled and let out the breath slowly, gaze roving over his face, cementing his smile in my mind. I would miss seeing itright in front of me. “Be safe traveling, Professor. I hope to see you when you return.”
“I very much hope for the same.”
He gave me a wink that, along with the promise in his smile, I carried with me into the next morning and the one after that, too.
I carried it with me through my roommates’ graduation, through the chaos of a fully loaded summer schedule and 5:00 a.m. wake-ups. I carried it with me through every late-night conversation with Grady while he was gone. And it was the first thing I thought of when I woke up on the morning of my own graduation in August.
My phone rangfive minutes after my alarm went off. I cracked an eye long enough to see who was calling and then shut them again, answering with a grin.
“Mmph,” I greeted Grady because it was too early for a hello.
“You picked up a dinner shift last night, didn’t you?”
“Mmph,” I conceded.
Grady tsk’d me. “Switch over to FaceTime.”
“Noooooo. My eyes aren’t even open yet. I’ve got bed head. I’m not fully awake.” I groaned, though the anticipation buzzing in my stomach like a live wire said I was awake enough.
“You just spoke a full sentence, and I love you with bed head, nap head, insomnia head, or any other variation thereof, smart-ass. FaceTime.”
I exhaled a belabored sigh but was still grinning as I propped up on an elbow and accepted the FaceTime call. “How bad is it? Is there cowlick?”
Grady squinted at the screen assessingly. “Cowlick is still under control, so I give this a 5 for disarray, but 10 out of 10 would not be letting you out of bed if today wasn’t your graduation.” The familiar warmth of his smile engulfed me. “Happy graduation day, baby. You did it.”
I flopped back down on my pillow, holding the phone above my head and praying I didn’t drop it on my face like I had a couple of times before when Grady and I spoke. It would have been more humiliating if we hadn’t laughed so fucking hard afterward that it made it worth the bruised ego and forehead.
“I wish you could be here.” I sighed.
“I know, me too.” Grady grimaced. “I’ll be watching the webcast, but I know that’s not the same. I’m incredibly proud of you, though. I know you know that, but I like to keep reminding you. Makes me feel a tiny bit less guilty for missing it.”
“At least you’re honest.” I laughed. “But shit, we’ve already been over this. There’s no way for you to be here without it looking super suspicious. You’re in the middle of a publicity tour, for fuck’s sake. Stop feeling guilty.” During our late-night conversations, we’d daydreamed various ways for Grady to return to Silver Ridge but always ended up at the same conclusion: too risky. While it was a bummer he couldn’t come, I didn’t actually mind it. There were too many good things on the other side of this day. Grady’s book was on target to release in September, and his publicity tour was going so well it had been extended to book signings in a bunch of major cities. The university had agreed to an extended sabbatical, and he would resume teaching the following spring. I’d see him in person sooner than I thought. He just didn’t know that yet.
“Yeah, I can’t help but feel I’m missing out on supporting you, though. It bothers me,” he confessed, the somber tinge in his voice betraying a hint of regret. God, I savored these moments when Grady let down his guard, revealing the softerman beneath the weight of his responsibilities. It filled me with affection and adoration and all sorts of squishy emotions I never imagined I’d feel for someone else.
“I’ve never once not felt completely supported by you, whether you’re here or on Mars, I promise.”