Page 16 of Wish You Were Mine (Kings of Eden Falls #3)

OWEN

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I showed up to my next class.

I taught. I answered questions. I even managed to explain molar mass conversions without anyone suspecting I was barely functioning on autopilot.

But through it all, Lucy’s face kept flashing through my mind—ping-ponging between that sexy smile she’d given me in the hot tub, snowflakes clinging to her lashes, and the way she’d looked this morning, stunned and wide-eyed in the back row like I’d just slapped her.

Yeah. Things were totally fine. Definitely not unraveling.

By the time I left campus, my head was pounding. I walked home, hoping the cold January air would give me a reset.

It didn’t.

I unlocked the front door to my apartment and dropped my bag by the couch, shrugging off my coat as my eyes landed on the familiar stretch of exposed brick.

The place had an industrial loft vibe—metal piping along the ceiling, newly installed laminate floors, and a fuzzy charcoal rug I’d scored during a winter sale that did its best to warm the space.

The leather couch was my one indulgence when I moved in—deep brown, structured, just broken-in enough to feel like home. A flat-screen TV hung above a sleek black console across the room, though it mostly served as decoration when school was in session.

I tossed my coat over the arm of the couch and sank down with a sigh.

There were a hundred things I should be doing, like prepping next week’s labs, replying to Dr. Callahan’s email about the upcoming research seminar, and finalizing next month’s schedule for The Garden.

But instead of doing any of that, I pulled out my phone and opened the text thread I had going with Bash and Miles.

Me: Hey, don’t tell anyone about what happened between me and Lucy on New Year’s Eve, okay? Just found out she’s in one of my classes. I promise I didn’t know she was a student. She made it sound like she was done with college.

Me: Also, her dad is President Archibald. So if this gets out, I’m definitely fired.

It took all of twenty seconds before Miles responded.

Miles: Yikes. I didn’t realize. I probably should have since I knew Theo was her brother, but I was so distracted that night I didn’t put it together.

Bash: Same. Crap. I had no idea. But don’t worry—my lips are sealed.

Me: Thanks. Seriously.

I tossed my phone on the coffee table and let out a long breath. My apartment was quiet, except for the occasional hum of the old fridge. I stood there for a moment, debating whether I should stress-eat, go for a run, or just hurl myself face-first into my mattress.

Instead, I sat down and opened my laptop. If I was really going to panic about this, I might as well be informed while I did it.

I typed: “What happens if a university professor kisses a student?”

Dozens of results popped up. Policy summaries. Forum threads. A few academic scandal exposés that made me feel like I was about to throw up.

I clicked through one that looked semi-reputable. The words blurred a little at the edges of my vision, but I forced myself to read:

“While romantic relationships between professors and students are not illegal in most states, they are generally prohibited under university policy—especially when a direct power dynamic exists. Even consensual relationships may be grounds for disciplinary action or termination…”

Yeah. That tracked.

Professors are expected to maintain ethical boundaries. In cases where the relationship began before the class, disclosure is critical…

Okay…so maybe I wasn’t completely doomed.

Though somehow, "We kissed in a hot tub before either of us knew the truth" didn’t sound like the kind of explanation the administration would appreciate.

Especially not when the girl in question was the university president’s daughter .

I’d only met President Archibald twice—once at the funeral for Theo’s wife a year and a half ago, and again at an open house he and his wife hosted at the president’s mansion this past fall.

Both encounters had been brief, but the man had left an impression. He was sharp. Controlled. Not someone you’d want to disappoint…or piss off.

And though I’d hated hearing it at the time, I suddenly understood exactly why that girl at the beach house had said Lucy’s dad would freak if he knew she’d been “slumming it” with a bartender.

Because let’s face it—the Archibalds weren’t exactly known for dating or marrying outside their social class.

They came from old money. Carefully curated old money.

And even though Theo had struck out on his own during law school—working as a house dad at Eden Falls Academy to earn free room and board—he still ended up marrying Alisha Vanderbilt. An heiress from a family whose hotel empire had made them even more wealthy than the Hastings.

Yeah, suddenly everything I’d overheard on New Year’s made sense.

“Rebellious Archibald Heiress Slums It with No-name Bartender During Wild Night Out.” The exposé practically wrote itself. Just a reckless detour on Lucy’s otherwise well-manicured path.

Something to try once before returning to the guys she was actually expected to end up with—ones who wore tailored suits, inherited legacies, and maybe had a drinking problem or two.

I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling, letting the weight of it all settle. The job I’d busted my butt through grad school for? The career I’d just barely started to build? All of it could blow up if anyone found out what happened between us .

Sure, it was technically just a kiss. But I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t meant something. If I said I hadn’t let myself think, just for a second, that maybe Lucy could be more than just one night.

But that second was over now.

I closed my laptop, rested my head in my hands, and muttered to the empty apartment, “I’m so screwed.”