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I pondered the question as I got up and showered, but no answer came to me. He’d answered my question in such a vulnerable way… and I had no experience with that. From an early age, I learned not to show that things bothered me. I hadn’t mastered it, but I’d become adept at keeping a neutral expression when being stabbed in the heart.
No answer came to me when I got dressed and scarfed down a cup of tea and slice of toast.
It bothered me. Not reciprocating Pollux’s email. So when I should have picked up my bag and gone to my office, instead, I slung my purse over my chest and went for a walk.
The sun was bright. In jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, I was warm, but not uncomfortable. Pulling my sunglasses out of my bag, I started toward the center of town.
Had something happened to Pollux, so he wasn’t able to come to class? Something making it physically impossible for him to get there, maybe? I stood at a crosswalk and then stepped into the street.
A horn blared and a hand yanked me back.
“Bloody hell, woman!”
Heart pounding, I tried to catch my breath and thank the man who’d just saved my life. “I forgot.” I couldn’t breathe. “Look left first, not right.”
“Fucking American. Or you could watch the fucking sign that tells you to walk.” The man’s deep voice was angry and a little mean.
But I was too glad to be alive to care.
“You look like you’re going to faint. Come here. Sit down.” He led me to a bench, gently maneuvering me to sit, then knelt to stare into my face.
Bright brown eyes, almost gold, roamed over me, while I stared back.
As my heartbeat slowed, I was able to put together the man’s features, and holy moly. He was younger than I imagined a person with such a piercing gaze would be. It was like he stared right through me, and saw more than I wanted him to. A white scar ran down the side of his face, all the way across his jaw, to his neck, and disappeared under the collar of his shirt.
“Are you hurt?” Black brows drew together. He was tan, and with that dark hair and those golden brown eyes… he was a very striking man.
And probably a student here, so I should get my shit together. Even if we were close in age, I didn’t develop crushes on students. “Shut it down.”
The man’s frown got even more pronounced. I hadn’t meant to say that aloud. He had a pretty mouth, though. Thick, red lips. He was a little scruffy, like he hadn’t shaved. Or maybe that was how he always looked. People with hair that dark could have a five o’clock shadow right after shaving.
“Sorry?”
“No.” I lost my sunglasses somewhere. “I haven’t been sleeping.” He didn’t need to know that. Peering around, I didn’t see the glasses anywhere. “Absolutely awful dreams.”
Scanning the street, I realized the glasses were in my hand. When had I done that? “Thank you again. And I’m sorry. I’m sure you have somewhere to be. I just need a moment and I’ll be fine.”
He stood, like he would do as I suggested, but after glancing around, sat next to me. “I’m not in a hurry. And you’re still pale as a sheet.”
“Yesterday, I was as red as a lobster, so this is an improvement.” What the actual fuck was wrong with me?
“Right.” He continued to look back and forth, eyes darting from one end of the street to another.
“I’m really fine.”
He stopped, let out a breath, and met my eyes. “I apologize. I thought I heard… never mind.”
“I’m Leo.” I held my hand out to him, then, realizing my palm was probably sweaty, rubbed it over my knee. “Leonora. Ophidia.”
“Orestes—”
“Of the house of Atreus?”
His tan face went even pale. “What?”
“I’m a professor. A classical historian.” After this car crash—wrong word—of an interaction was over, I was going to find a therapist who could teach me how to be human. “I’m not usually this weird. I’m sorry. Between the car and not sleeping…”
“Orestes Tauris. Are you sure you’re all right? You don’t seem quite…”
