Page 146 of Stranger to Love

“Hi,” she said softly.

I just stared at her, my mind a sudden explosion. The last time we were alone, I was using her as a weapon—a way to punish both myself and Dr. Carter. With everything that had happened since, I had completely forgotten she existed.

I swallowed hard. “Hey.”

She smirked, her eyes dancing. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Alex.”

“Sorry. I was just... miles away.”

"I can see that." She glanced at the organised mess of my notes. “Did you have a good holiday?”

“It was better than I expected, actually,” I said, keeping it vague.

“What about you, Blondie? Have a good Christmas?”

She blushed at the nickname, and I immediately wanted to kick myself. Fucking idiot. I was sending mixed signals I had no business sending. Why would I even want to charm her when I had a goddess waiting for me?

"I just wanted to see you," Billie said, her voice dropping a fraction as she leaned in. "I emailed you over the break, but I never heard back. I was worried I’d done something wrong."

"You didn't," I said, my voice tight. I gently shifted my leg, breaking the contact between our knees beneath the table. "I just had a lot going on. Family stuff. I wasn't really on my phone."

Billie watched me, her smile faltering. "Right. Family stuff." She looked down at my laptop, her expression turning a bit more daring. "Well, you're here now. And you look like you need a break. I was thinking maybe…you would want to come to my office, or come back to mine for a coffee?”

My heart stopped. This was the moment where the old Alex would have jumped at the chance to escape the pressure. But all I could think about was the single red rose sitting on a desk and the woman who had warned me that she doesn't like to share.

We had kept this in the dark for a reason. Carrie was a high-profile academic and I was a student; one wrong move and her career was a smoking crater. And Billie? Billie wasn’t just some woman; she was a member of the faculty assisting in Carrie’s department.

"Billie," I started, my voice low. I needed to cut the cord. "I can't. I... I'm not the same person I was before the break. Things have changed. I’ve changed."

Billie’s brow furrowed, her hand reaching out across the table. "What do you mean? Alex, talk to me. If this is about—"

"It's about me," I interrupted, pulling my hands back into my lap. "I’m seeing someone. Someone... serious. And I can't keep doing this with you. It’s not fair to you, and it’s definitely not okay for me anymore."

The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. Billie’s face fell, the soft hope in her eyes hardening into realisation.

But then, something shifted. The softness vanished, replaced by something much darker than I expected. Beneath the table, her leg moved again—not a graze this time, but a slow, purposeful stroke against mine.

I froze. She tilted her head, watching my reaction with a steady, calculating gaze that made my skin crawl. What the fuck was she doing? Panic clawed at my throat. I expected her to stumble over her words, to hurry away in embarrassment. I didn't expect this sudden, bold defiance.

I was so paralysed by the sheer shock of her boldness that I didn’t move. I just sat there, which meant to anyone looking through the glass of this booth, it looked like I was leaning into it. Every second my leg stayed pressed against hers felt like a fresh betrayal of the woman who was currently marking papers just a few buildings away.

Billie finally pulled her leg back, leaving a cold, stinging sensation behind. She stood up slowly. But she didn't head straight for the door.

Instead, she leaned over the desk right next to me. She was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her body, close enough that her perfume became a physical weight. She was making a point, staking a claim on the air I was breathing. Where was this Blondie last term?

"A lot has changed, has it?" she murmured, her voice low and smooth. She looked down at my open laptop, scanning my meticulous notes, then flicked her gaze back to mine. There was no hurt left in her expression; it was a sharp, knowing curiosity that made my blood run cold.

"Be careful," Billie whispered, reaching for the door handle. "New routines are great, but the problem with 'serious' things is that they have so much more to lose when they break."

She slid the glass door open, disappearing into the maze of bookshelves, leaving me trembling in the booth.

I rubbed my face, feeling flushed. I needed to tell Carrie. Jesus, what had happened to Billie over the break? She used to melt the second I took the bait, leaving her blushing and soft. Now? It was like she had stepped onto a battlefield she thought she could win.

But I couldn't tell Carrie now. Not while she was at work. The woman was fluent in high-stakes power moves; once I told her, she would have Billie’s head on a silver platter. I took a few steadying breaths and forced myself to sit up straight.

I pulled out my phone, hovering over my chat with Carrie, and fired off a message before I could overthink it.

Alex: Hey, can I come over for dinner tonight?