But I know better. This is real. He’s mine, even if he’s still learning what that means. Learning… what all of it means.
I rise and cross to his desk, perching on the edge. Close enough to smell his clean, citrusy soap. Not touching. Not yet, because office hours, after all. “Hey,” I say softly. “Whatever’s going on in that brilliant head ofyours… You know you can always talk to me. About anything.”
His eyes meet mine, brilliant blue brimming with vulnerability. He hesitates, but ultimately nods. “I know. Thank you.”
That’s enough for now. No more pushing. If he wants to share what I think is going on or if I’m wrong, whatever is on his mind, I’ve opened the door. I’ve rolled out the red carpet. I’m here, whether it’s proverbially here on the edge of his desk or here as in, in his mind and heart and available whenever he needs me, on the phone, or in person.
I’m here. And I have to trust that he knows that.
Cade is givinghis favorite lecture to his favorite class, and because he’s made those important distinctions about today, I’m on my way to pop in. I’d love to sit through what he deems his favorite, and I’d love to see how the students receive it. He’s beloved, which initially surprised me after that first time he came to his interview. Stuffy and stuck-up, that’s kind of how I’d thought he’d teach but he’s nothing like that. Sharp, engaging, charming, personable, he’s the type of college professor every parent hopes they’re paying tuition to get.
I’m tugging my bag over my shoulder and reaching for Cade’s favorite pen, so I can use it while takinglittle notes through his lecture, when the office door opens quietly. Without a knock.
“Ah, caught you in time.” Eli doesn’t just close the door, but he stands with his tailbone resting against the doorknob, trapping me in. He’s not trying to intimidate me, and as much as I hate Eli, I realize I’m not in any physical danger.
Only emotional.
“I’m actually on my way out,” I explain, eyes focused on the clock hanging over the door. The lecture starts in four and a half minutes. “Excuse me.”
Eli raises a hand, pressing it gently to my chest. He’s a hair shorter than me, or at least, he’s smaller than I remember. Then again, when we were together, I put him on a golden pedestal. One that he has since leapt from, of his own doing. Maybe I’m only now just seeing him for who he is. A faint smirk curves my lips. Eli misinterprets my reaction, and his smile broadens.
“I knew you were just playing hard to get.”
I take his hand off my chest and shake my head. “I’m not playing anything, Eli.” I don’t use his first name the same way I use Cade’s first name. Calling him Eli instead of Dr. Morton or professor is meant to show him that I no longer respect any part of who he is. Including his titles. “I want to leave, and you’re in the way.”
He looks at Cade’s empty desk, and within a moment I know what’s coming. His devilish grin slides my way as he reaches up, touching my chin like he’s got the right.
“Bring him. The three of us can have some fun.”
I slap his hand away, and an angry tic runs through my jaw. “Fuck you. Don’t touch me.”
Eli’s eyes dart between mine, green, full of lies and bullshit. What I thought was emerald and gorgeous some years ago now just reminds me of snot. And shit. “You know, I always thought we were just having fun. That’s why, you know, I did what I did.” He tries to touch my face, but I catch his hand, sealing my fingers around his wrist. He lets me hold his wrist tight, and pretends not to notice as he adds, “I wouldn’t have done those things had I known you were in love with me.”
In through my nose and out through my mouth. I take a few big, deep breaths, telling myself that hitting Eli is not worth it. He is not worth it. “Excuse me,” I try again.
Eli smiles, and I don’t let him have power over me. Not anymore. I’m realizing as I’m trying desperately to get to Cade’s lecture that any bit of me I give to Eli—even anger, even animosity—it lessens what I have for Cade. My mood, my energy, everything, it only takes away from us.
I return Eli’s smile and pat his shoulder, my sudden shift in demeanor causing his mouth to open and close, his brows knitting. “Well, Eli, I was but I’m not anymore so don’t lose any sleep about it.” Another pat to his shoulder, and when he moves to look at his arm as dramatically as he can, I brush past him and pull the door open. “See ya around campus.”
He says something, I don’t know what. I don’t care.
Cade has made great strides in his personal discoveries to be with me. To make us work. He deserves the same,and that means never letting Eli win. No matter how small or private the victory.
Cade’s lecturewas so damn brilliant I actually got emotional and feigned a cough so I could wipe my eyes. Class ended a few minutes ago, and Cade’s been chatting with students while I wait nearby, a mouth full of drool and puppy dog eyes.
When the last student has left, I help him by whispering how hard I am as he packs his laptop up. And I help him again when he’s unplugging the projector and locking the room, by pressing my chest into his back and reminding him of when he fucked me.
In the crowded hall, students in pajamas with EarPods in every two feet, he slips his hand into mine, and my heart nearly stops. I caution a look at him as we walk toward the parking lot, done with our day, and to no surprise, he’s bright red.
I let my thumb stroke his hand as we walk, and he tightens his fingers around my palm. “Thank you for this, for whatever I did to earn you holding my hand in public,” I whisper to him, and right as I do, the first group of students notices.
“No fucking way.”
“Oh my god, that’s so hot.”
“Holy crap.”
I nudge him, but not too much. Holding hands is a huge step for Cade. “We got aholy crap.”
