Spending nights walking along the cooling sand of the beach to watch the sunset… made me realize that I am completely and utterly head over heels in love with Summer Nyx.
She is everything I could have ever wanted.
She is worth every risk I’ve taken and every possible consequence that may still come. As long as she is with me, I feel like we can do anything.
I’m making my way toward my office when Jared catches up with me. I smile at him since we haven’t seen each other since the break started.
“Is it true?” he asks without preamble.
I stop and wait for him to close the space between us. “Is what true?” I respond as I continue to my office. Jared has a smart jacket over aFlashT-shirt, which he has tucked into black slacks. “This outfit, by the way,” Isay, gesturing from his feet up to his head. “It’s atrocious.”
He looks down at his clothes, but shrugs. “Believe it or not, Meghan used the spare key and dumped bleach on most of my clothes.”
“Brutal,” I reply, hoping that he’ll forget about whatever it was he was going to say to me. Rumors among faculty are never a good thing.
“You’d think I cheated on her or murdered the dog or something.”
“Knowing you, I’m sure you fucked something up.”
“Whose side are you on?” he whines as he follows me into my office and flops down in the chair across from mine. He kicks his sneakers up on my desk before quickly removing them at my pointed look. He clears his throat. “Anyway, enough about my god-awful ex-wife, I’m here to see if the rumors are true.”
My heart stutters, and bile rises in my throat. “What rumors?” I ask, my voice cracking with nerves.
Jared leans back so that his chair balances on the two back legs. “Did you really give this semester’s students a study guide for their final?” he asks, incredulously. “You do know that this has been one of your highest-grade averages in years, right?”
I resist the urge to audibly sigh in relief. I shrug. “I just figured I’ve been a hard-ass lately. Don’t you think we should want our students to succeed and help them achieve that? Out in the real world, they can look back on their texts or search for the answer online, but expecting them to memorize everything is a little ridiculous.
His chair cracks against the floor as he leans forward. “What have you done with Asher?”
I scoff, crossing my arms and looking away from him. “Have you taken a look at your grade averages each semester? Because if they tend to be on the lower side, then I think that indicates an issue with the professor and not the students.”
His mouth drops open before he snaps it shut and narrows his eyes at me. “And this just… randomly occurred to you one day?”
Now I feel nauseous.
I mentally kick myself for changing my coursework as soon as Summer suggested something. Even if I agree with her points, I should’ve waited until she was no longer my student. My behavior obviously was not fair when I made that decision. I hadn’t been thinking about my students; I’d been thinking about Summer and what she thought of me as a professor. I agree with what she pointed out, and with everything I just said to Jared… but I let my relationship with Summer affect how I act toward my class.
“Someone talked to me a little while ago about how I may or may not be helping my students succeed as far as exams go, and the more I thought about it, the more I agreed with them,” I explain.
“Someone?” he asks, putting heavy emphasis on the word and raising an eyebrow. I meet his gaze, but he refuses to back down. “Is something going on that I should know about?”
“No,” I snap defensively.
His eyes soften as he lowers his voice. “Because I can help, Asher.”
“There’s nothing to help with,” I insist.
He sighs, leaning back in the chair. “All right,” he says, putting his hands up, letting the prying questions go. “How are you feeling about the new semester?”
“Good,” I say firmly with a nod. And it’s true, I do feel good now that Summer is no longer my student. While a relationship with any student still isn’t good, at least it won’t look quite as bad as if she were still my student and someone found out.
“Maybe you can help me draft up some study guides,” he says, a peace offering.
A small smile crosses my lips. “I can do that.”
“And help me find some new clothes?” he practically begs. “Meghan really did ruin most of them.”
“I hope you changed your locks,” I laugh. “Shouldn’t your divorce be finalized soon?”
