I bite my lower lip and shake my head.
Asher starts to lean in as the pasta water boils over, sizzling as it hits the hot stove. I curse while darting across the kitchen to turn the heat down.
“Not much of a cook?” he muses.
I shoot him a playful glare, my lips quivering as I try not to smile. “Having this small of a kitchen doesn’t inspire much cooking.”
He leans against the counter beside me as I add the pasta to the boiling water. “You can always cook in my kitchen,” he says with a grin. “I can teach you a few things.”
“Oh?” I ask with a raised eyebrow. “What sort of things, Professor Stirling?”
Mischief sparkles in his eyes as he crosses behind me, placing both of his hands on either side of me, boxing me in. “Oh, all sorts of things,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin behind my ear.
“Do any of those things involve cooking?” I ask with a wry smile.
“They can, if that’s what you’re into.”
I playfully shove him away with a roll of my eyes and receive a swat to my ass in return. He retreats to the wall as I add a pinch of salt to the sauce.
We continue in comfortable silence. I finish up dinner while Asher watches.
It’s nice not to be expected to be ‘on’ all the time, not to have to fill the space with idle conversation and small talk that no one actually cares about.
I haven’t dated during grad school—initially, I’d tried, but it was never worth it. Either it was someone outside the program who didn’t understand the time commitment my master’s degree demanded of me, or it was someone in the program, and we hardly ever saw each other. I had always been too worried that giving the proper amount of time to a boyfriend would causemy grades to plummet, and that wasn’t something I was ever willing to risk.
The time commitment of a relationship had just never seemed worth it. The guys had never seemed worth it.
But Asher is.
Asher clears his throat, finally breaking the silence. “You’re not going home for break, are you?” he asks, though I know he’s already aware of the answer. We’d talked a bit more about my mother’s behavior over Thanksgiving and how I was taking space from her until I felt ready to reach out. I haven’t even considered going home for winter break.
“No,” I respond simply. “My mother is still upset over Thanksgiving, so we’re not really talking at the moment.” Guilt pools in my stomach. I had been the one to tell her that I needed space and not to contact me, but a small part of me had figured she’d have reached out by now. It hurt that she hadn’t even tried to spend Christmas with me. Though maybe I’m making her feel the same way. I guess we have to see who has less pride and reaches out first.
“So, what’s your plan?” he asks. “To spend the break in your studio apartment all alone?”
I shrug. “Milo would be with me. I’d need someone to watch her if I left for that long.” Normally, I’d ask Sam, but because Derek spent Thanksgiving with Sam’s family, they were going to spend Christmas with Derek’s. A small pang of jealousy fizzles in my gut. I wish introducing each other to our families was something that Asher and I could do.
“What if I can talk Elijah into it? He’s got nowhere to go and can handle a cat for a few days.”
I scoff. “For some reason, I don’t really see him as a pet person. Especially not a cat person.”
“He’d watch her if I asked.” When I don’t say anything, he continues. “Do you want to come with me to visit Juliet in California?”
I wring my hands together. “I don’t know,” I respond hesitantly. I’ve never gone on a trip with a significant other before, let alone on a trip to meet such an important family member.
“Come on, run away with me.” He grins. “Don’t you wanna get away? To a place where no one would recognize us and we could just be together? Just be us, without the pressure of hiding our relationship?” He pulls me into his arms and nuzzles my neck, his stubble scratching my skin and sending shivers down my spine. “We could stay near the beach,” he offers.
“I do love the beach,” I murmur. He pulls back, a victorious grin across his lips, but I stop him. “You don’t think your sister will mind?”
“Why would she mind?” he asks, genuinely confused.
I stare at him, dumbfounded. “Because you’re dating someone who is clearly your student?”
“As soon as break starts, you won’t be my student,” he points out. I could argue that I’ll still be his student until he enters my final grade. “And she already knows about you and the circumstances of how we met.”
“She does?” I ask, shocked.
“Juliet and I weren’t always close, but we’ve grown closer over the years, and I felt comfortable telling her. I trust her. And she lives two states away, so really, what could she do even if she did disapprove?” A playful grin tugs at the corners of his lips, making me want to smile in return.
