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The drive home to my apartment is a blur; my mind barely focuses on the road as buildings and trees pass me. Traffic in DC at this hour has become the bane of my existence and I’m shocked I don’t rear end anyone with my mind completely focused on Skyler, remembering that look in her eyes when I left her in that classroom.
Dick move. You should have at least walked her to her car.
But I couldn’t.
I knew if I stayed in that room a second longer, if I stared into her warm brown eyes for another beat I’d confess every thought I’d had about her over the past month. But most importantly the three words that had been roaring in my head for the past week. The words were almost suffocating, they tried to claw their way out of my chest making it difficult to breathe in the confines of that classroom.
I love you.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I slam the door to my apartment behind me so hard that the picture on my wall rattles under the force. I stare at the abstract painting my sister said I “had to have” because I’m over thirty and my mural of vinyl records is “so late twenties.” I’m not even sure what I’m looking at, but all I see is Skyler. The browns in the painting are almost the exact color of her eyes and I know they would be all I see in my dreams later.
I march to the refrigerator and pull out a beer, downing it in one gulp before realizing that I will definitely need something stronger to get through the night.
I’m sorry, Skyler. Forgive me, please.
A part of me wonders if I’m a coward for not telling her how I feel. For letting Hendricks get in my head. But then I remember the look in his eyes.
He was serious.
“Sit down, Doctor Reed,” he orders as he closes the door to his office. The air is thick and tense and I try my best to keep my cool, but I’m ready to hand this cantankerous old man his ass if he’s ready to spout accusations again.
I almost tell him I would prefer standing but I suppose the less combative I am the better. “What’s this meeting about?”
“Well, it was about whether you could help out with a panel this weekend for homecoming. Now, it’s about something else entirely.” He sits down across from me, a polished, rich mahogany desk between us, and a mountain of papers that looked in desperate need of organization. “What is going on with you and Preston Mitchell’s daughter?”
I hate the way he addresses her. Like she has no identity outside of being her father’s daughter—who I assume to be a large benefactor and prominent alumni. Skyler is so much more than that. She is bright and passionate and has her whole life ahead of her. Her parents don’t control her narrative. She doesn’t have to live in the shadow of her father.
“I’m not sure what you mean. Skyler Mitchell is a student. Nothing more.”
He leans back in his chair and stares at me, steepling his fingers under his chin. “Aidan,” he says. “You know I’ve been doing this a long time. Going on almost thirty years. You can’t pull the wool over my eyes.”
“I’m not doing anything. She’s a student and frankly, these accusations are getting old. And a little out of line. Take me to HR if you’re so concerned.” I go to stand when he stops me.
“Skyler Mitchell is off limits, Doctor Reed. You need to stay away from her.”
“I already said—” I start when he interrupts me.
“I know what you said. But I’ve seen you alone with her on more than one occasion now. Have you been…” He clears his throat. “I’m just going to ask point blank. Are you sleeping with her?”
I know I don’t have but a second to respond, but it’s enough time to hate myself for denying my feelings for Skyler or the fact that what I do with my woman doesn’t concern anyone on this god damn campus. She doesn’t belong to CGU or her father or this department.
She belongs to me.
“No, Doctor Hendricks, and frankly, you’re out of line. You’ve seen me twice with a student ON campus, and suddenly I’m sleeping with her. I’m not going to stand for this kind of harassment just because my students actually enjoy my class.” I shoot him a look implying that students don’t quite feel the same about his class.
“A simple no would have sufficed. No need to get defensive and…offensive.” He pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose.
“Is that all? I have things to do that don’t involve being interrogated for building relationships with my students.”
“I’ll email you about the panel,” he says as he turns to his computer.
“I never agreed to—” I start.
He doesn’t look up from his computer before he interrupts me. “I’ll email you about the panel.”
I turn to leave when I hear his voice again, “Doctor Reed.”
I turn around slowly. “Yes, Doctor Hendricks?”
