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SEVEN
Noelle
Was fate trying to tell me something? I was pretty sure the number of times I had run into Matthew Harper in the past two weeks couldn’t have been a coincidence. I was wondering if I should just hole myself in my dorm room just so I didn’t keep seeing him. Because every time I did… This crush of mine was growing.
I swear, showing up at his class lecture had been an accident. It was just that, well… My classes had been over for the evening, and I had seen him in the classroom next to mine as I walked out the week before, and I couldn’t help myself. I snuck in the back, sat in the last row, and I enjoyed just listening to him teach Finance. It wasn’t something I had ever really learned about, just the basics, but I was quickly enthralled by the amount of passion with which he talked. Yes, he was a little grumpier than he was with me and didn’t light up the way he did when we talked, but I could see his passion for teaching.
Not to mention the way he would look around the room as he talked, looking over all of the students, but his eyes always settled back on me. And I knew, the first time our gazes had connected, that I was caught, but I was enjoying listening to him too much to care.
He’d ran his hand through his combed-back hair as he looked over his slides, coming to the end of the presentation. My eyes had trailed back up, meeting his. He was so serious and focused, but even then, I could tell that this was his thing. The thing that set his soul on fire. I was still trying to find mine.
The realization sank in me that as attracted as I was to him, I also really genuinely respected him. He seemed to care about his students, even with his grumpy mask, and he did seem interested when he asked me all those questions about myself at the mixer the other day.
It was… surprising to me, how good it felt to know that someone wanted to talk to me. And when he looked up at me sitting in his classroom… Well, I think my heart skipped a few beats at his expression. I couldn’t help it. He was beautiful. Seriously.
And then running into Matthew at the grocery store last weekend had been weird, but… normal, somehow. And for some reason, he had recognized my cookie dilemma and talked me right out of it. I hadn’t even felt guilty about eating them, or the countless other sweets I found myself munching on, day after day. I didn’t care if I watched my figure. I didn’t care if the weight went to my thighs, my butt, or my hips. That wasn’t to say I was against eating healthy, or physical activity—although, let’s be honest, I detested working out with every fiber of my being. It just meant that I wasn’t going to let people’s jokes about me only eating sweets bother me anymore. Because even though he didn’t say flat out that he appreciated my body, I had seen the way his heated gaze swept over my curves. Oh god. Just thinking about it made me warm all over. And he had said You don’t need to worry about that, seriously. It was so matter of fact. So certain.
My ex had never treated me like that—it was quite the opposite. That’s why it was such a relief to talk with Matthew like that. Because I knew the most important people in my life—Angelina, Charlotte, and Gabrielle—they had never once judged me for it either. Had never once rolled their eyes when I showed up with cake, muffins, or a sweet treat. They had always appeased me when I tried a new cookie recipe by tasting it for me. So, what Matthew said and how he made me feel, it just felt… right.
I was still lost in my thoughts when I almost ran into someone on the sidewalk. When I looked up, I saw the same icy blue eyes that had come to my mind a few more times than I would like to admit over the last few days. Seriously, was our campus that small?
“Oh, hi, Professor Harper,” I smiled, taking a step back so we weren’t almost touching.
“Hello, Noelle,” he returned, shuffling a stack of papers in his arms.
“You look like you’re in a rush,” I said, gesturing at his pile. “I’ll let you go.”
He shook his head. “I’m just on my way to class. Care to walk with me? I still have a few minutes.”
I wasn’t sure what compelled me to say yes, but I did. And then we were off, slowly walking across campus in the gray haze of the day.
“So.” He looked over at me. “Crashed any other unsuspecting professor’s classes today?”
I grimaced. “I’m sorry if that was inappropriate of me—”
“Noelle.” He gave me a look, and I shut up. “It was fine. Don’t worry. I was just surprised to see you, that’s all. Like I told you, it was nice to see you.” I tried to ignore the burn on my cheeks, burying my face in my scarf, when he looked over at me. “You’re welcome in any of my classes, any time.” He nodded to himself. “Just maybe don’t tell the Dean, because I don’t think he’d support someone taking a course for free.” Matthew chuckled.
“Right. Of course.” I nodded along, “I probably shouldn’t though… I wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea.”
“About what, Noelle?” He looked at me.
I cleared my throat. “Um. You and me.”
“You and me?” He asked, tilting his head in amusement. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
“Right.” I forced out a laugh as we came to a stop in front of the building his class had to be in. “Well, I’ll see you around.”
“Goodbye, Noelle,” he gave me a warm smile. “Have a good day.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled as I left, only realizing later that I hadn’t even given him a proper goodbye back. Ah. Did this man understand what he was doing to me? He was constantly showing up everywhere and confusing my brain. I didn’t know what to do with the thoughts I was putting in my head, but I certainly wasn’t going to act on any of them. Nope.
Not. Happening.
I went back to my dorm and stared at that blank document on my computer again. When was the last time I had felt the desire to write? When had I last been creative and put words onto paper? It felt like years, and maybe it was. In college, I had been so jazzed about writing. Had come up with a binder full of characters and ideas. And then I had gotten so caught up in my relationship, in my move, that I had lost sight of what mattered to me.
And the word document had just blinked back at me every day since our disastrous end. Because if you didn’t believe in love, in a happy ending, how could you write it, right? I sighed and shut my computer lid again. I wasn’t ready. Not yet.
But one day soon, I’d tell the story I wanted to tell. Maybe I just had to sort out the rest of my life first.
