Page 66 of The Professor's Wife

“It’s introductory. Things like Plato, right?”

“Things like Plato, that’s right.” His lips twitched with amusement. “Come grab a cup of coffee with me.”

He didn’t need to tell me twice. I immediately slammed my anatomy textbook shut and followed him out to his black Tesla.

We drove to the coffee shop, and I pretended the silence was comfortable, but I was really nervous. Instead of going through the drive-through, he parked. When he saw the look I gave him, he smiled.

“Let’s unwind inside.”

My heart jumped. Aside from the school library, this was the first time we’d been out in public together. I didn’t want to tell myself that meant something, but a bubble of hope emerged anyway.

We found a small table at the back of the coffee shop. It was quiet. There were only a handful of people, and they were working on their laptops, their heads buried in their screens.

When I slid into the little booth, Oliver ordered our coffees. He came back minutes later, and instead of sliding into the seat across from me, he sat beside me.

I kept my eyes from bulging open, though my breath picked up. The scent of him fell over me as his shoulder bumped against mine. He was incredibly close.

Intimate sort of close.

He wrapped his large hand around his mug and stared thoughtfully at me.

“Drink up,” he ordered, his tone solemn.

I took a sip of my coffee and played with a loose thread in my jeans. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Mm,” he hummed, unimpressed. “What did I say about your thank-yous?”

I grinned. “To hold onto them for the big stuff.”

“Precisely.”

I winced. “Sorry.”

He took a sip. “Summer’s almost done.”

I clenched my mug. “It went by fast.”

“How’s Rowe? You said he was acting out last time we spoke.”

I nodded, my heart swelling because he remembered that—and remembered his name. “He’s doing better. He’ll be starting kindergarten, and we picked out his backpack. It’s a space one. He’s really into the stars and moon lately.”

He smiled. “Sounds nice.”

“I’ve arranged it so the courses I’m taking are during his school hours.”

“Mine is an evening class.”

I nodded. “But my sister will be off work, and she’ll help put him to bed for me.”

“What about Rowe’s father?”

The question came as a shock. It had been a while since anyone had asked, mostly because I’d learned to barricade myself from others.

I looked down at my mug and spun it around. I didn’t care at that moment that it was burning hot.

My voice was small. “He’s never been in the picture.”

His eyes were heavy on me. “That’s a shame.”