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“It was.” I smiled to myself. “I’m lucky to have her. She’s one in a million.”
“It was clear to me how much you mean to each other when I saw you both together today. When did the two of you move away from each other?”
“It wasn’t long after I finished school. G was beginning to struggle with everyday tasks, and I was doing everything I could, but I was worrying about her every time I left the house. A couple of her friends had moved into the retirement complex—it had only just opened, and they were raving about the facilities and the social calendar. It piqued her interest, so we went to look around it, and we both fell in love with it. She rented out the house because neither of us could bear to sell it, I found a student house share, and we’ve been in the same places ever since.”
Killian turned to face me, his gaze searching. I steeled myself, but all he said was, “Time to add the peppers.”
Swinging my legs off the stool, I padded around the island to him, carefully adding the peppers into the stir-fry mix. Before I could move away, he wrapped his fingers around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.
“Do you miss living with her?”
Allowing myself to briefly lean into his warmth, I nodded. “I do. I know it’s for the best, and we both keep busy, and we see each other as often as we can, but…”
He didn’t respond, but he squeezed my wrist gently before releasing.
“Why did you come today? Why did you text me about the coffee?” The questions spilled out of me, hanging in the air between us. There was silence for a long moment, but eventually, he huffed out a breath, shaking his head.
“Honestly? I don’t have an answer I can give you. I…I sent you the coffee text. Then I saw your text inviting me to join you—or what I thought was your text. I’m assuming from the shock on your face when I walked in that you weren’t the sender. Anyway, I read the text, and before I knew it, I’d deviated from my usual walking route and ended up outside the retirement complex.”
“G sent it,” I confirmed, and then added, “but I’m glad you came, just so you know.”
“Me too,” he murmured, so quietly that I could barely hear him.
I remained silent while the stir-fry cooked, and only after we’d finished eating did I dare to bring up the subject I was most curious about.
“You told G you’d lived alone since you were seventeen.”
In the middle of loading the dishwasher, Killian paused, his shoulders stiffening. “I did. Don’t try and give me sympathy. Not all foster parents have their foster kids’ best interests at heart, but it was much better than some of the alternatives. I’ve been lucky.”
I wanted to ask more, but the set of his shoulders told me that anything else I mentioned would be unwelcome. Why was it so important that I learned more about him, anyway? What was it about this man, living here alone in this beautiful but sterile flat, that made me want to stay when I never had before?
“Okay. What about being a lecturer? Do you enjoy that? You want to be the head of the department, right? How does that happen?”
I could see him visibly relax, and I breathed out a shaky breath, crossing over to the fridge to refill our wine glasses with the bottle he’d opened when we ate. As I was pouring, he straightened up, closing the dishwasher and setting it to run. His gaze drifted to me, then to the wine glasses, and a half-smile tugged at his lips.
“Making yourself at home, I see.”
“Yeah.”
“Come on, then. Bring the wine over to the sofa, and I suppose we can talk, if we must.”
“That was why you invited me here, wasn’t it? That’s what you said earlier.”
He laughed darkly, swiping his glass from the counter and bending his head to my ear as he did so. “We both know I didn’t invite you here to talk, Joshua.”
Fuck. It was like he had a direct line to my dick. One minute, I was trying to have a conversation; the next, I was struggling to remember what words even were.
But he stepped away, moving to the seating area and sinking into the large armchair to the left of the sofa. When he’d placed his wine glass on the coffee table, he lifted a brow, and I went to him, settling on the sofa with my wine glass in hand. I did my best to ignore the impulse to straddle Killian’s thighs and kiss him, instead staring into my wine glass as he began to speak.
“I’m good at my job. I work hard at it. It’s always been my plan to become the head of the school of business. That would be the pinnacle of my career, and to be able to do it at my age would be unprecedented. The process isn’t the same everywhere, but at LSU, faculty members are usually promoted to a professorship and the role of department head when an opening becomes available or if someone proves to be unfit for the role. They’re chosen by a committee headed up by the vice chancellor of LSU.”
“So there’s an opening?” I prompted when he fell silent.
He nodded slowly. “There is…or will be. The current head is retiring next year, and so the role will become available. I-I want it. I’m just…I’m not sure if I’ll get it.”
“Why wouldn’t you? You’re already the principal lecturer. Surely it makes sense.”
Picking up his wine glass, he shook his head. “Unfortunately, that’s only part of it. The committee looks more favourably on faculty members who are…let’s say…socially involved. I…well, socialising isn’t my strong point, in case you hadn’t guessed, nor do I want it to be. There are other members of staff who are far more suited to the position when that’s taken into account.”
