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“I have to push myself. Otherwise, I’ll never get better at this stuff, you know?” He offered a rueful smile. “Even if I do space out.”
The sincerity touched Julian, making his self-loathing over his tenure—a reminder of having to restart his career—seem even more trivial. This student impressed him. He had a quiet determination and a disarming charm. He was ambitious without being arrogant, honest without being defeatist.
“My first recommendation is to come to office hours regularly,” Julian said, picking up his pen. “But perhaps you’d benefit from some private tutoring? It would allow us to delve deeper into the texts.”
A wide grin spread across Alex’s face. “Seriously? That would be incredible.”
Julian opened his day planner, flipping to his calendar for March. “How about this Friday at the library, say, around seven p.m.?”
With a playful tilt of his head, Alex asked, “You mean the Friday before spring break?”
“Oh!” Julian flipped the planner closed. “I… I’d forgotten. That’s—well, I suppose you have something more festive planned than discussing twentieth-century literature with your professor.”
“All I’m doing is blasting out rèsumès before flying home for a visit… and readingA Room with a View, of course,” Alex said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Discussing literature sounds like a good distraction. It’s a date.” He gulped audibly then corrected himself. “I mean,plan. Sounds like a plan.”
Watching Alex adjust his collar forced Julian to bite the inside of his bottom lip to suppress a smile. He reopened the planner and made a note, keeping his focus on the page. “Then it’s a plan. It’s written in ink, so it’s official.”
Alex jumped to his feet, his fingers fidgeting with the seam on his jeans. “I really appreciate this, Professor.” He slung his backpack over his shoulder, an intense expression on his face as he moved toward the door. “It means a lot.”
Julian’s chest swelled with a warmth reminiscent of the comfort found in revisiting a cherished novel. He cleared his throat, striving to maintain composure and harness the unexpected rush of emotions swirling at the tip of his tongue. With a restrained nod, he watched the younger man wave awkwardly before turning to leave. His gaze rested on Alex’s rear as he exited. The snug fit of the jeans hinted at a knack for more than computer languages.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Julian tried to push away thoughts about Alex and, specifically, Alex’s ass. Moving across the country for a job at Blue Ridge hadn’t left time for socialization, but he couldn’t fill that void by objectifying students. The young man’s battle with dyslexia and his determination to succeed, had resonated with Julian. It contrasted with Travis’s overt maneuvering, and Julian reserved his time and attention for students who battled their challenges.
That was why he had volunteered to tutor him. That was the only reason.
Chapter 3
Throughtheglasswallsof Alex’s reserved study space, the library spread out before him. A thin sheen of sweat formed on his brow as he took deliberate breaths, attempting to steady the whirl of emotions inside him. His restless leg bounced beneath the table, mirroring his agitated mind. He fumbled with the metallic wrapping of a stick of gum. He’d hoped the mint flavor would destroy the taste of the high-octane energy drinks he’d been guzzling. Instead, the mixture of candy canes and battery acid matched the excitement and fear swirling within him.
The verbal job offer at Promethean Technologies had come that morning, followed by a detailed email, which Alex reread from his open laptop. The job was his dream—a chance to go from North Georgia to Silicon Valley, to work for a company that served catered lunches alongside machine learning, where six-figure salaries came with nap pods and unlimited cold brew. Thanks to his knack for algorithm design and a passion for emerging tech, Alex’s life seemed pretty glitch-free.
He clicked on his webcam; another hair check was in order. He focused instead on the grin reflecting back. He’d done it—fitted the last piece in a four-year puzzle. He’d landed a job that made his dyslexia seem like a footnote in his personal narrative rather than the main antagonist.
And yet, as Alex ran his tongue over his lips, his rapid heartbeat wasn’t solely because of the salary or the promised perks. Each hint of movement outside drew his gaze upward, eager for a glimpse of Julian.
When his professor finally appeared, Alex bit his lip to control his grin. Julian, clutching a bike helmet in one hand with a satchel slung clumsily over his shoulder, looked more like a nutty professor than a polished academic.
Alex popped up from his seat. “Here, let me help.” He took the satchel, which carried a surprising amount of weight, smiling to keep from laughing at the charming mess. The sight of Julian, hair tousled in that just-right way, was endearing and irresistible.
“Thank you.” Cheeks flushed, Julian shuffled into his seat. “This is my first time in one of these study rooms. Private, but… everyone can see us.”
“Like a human aquarium.” Alex reached into his backpack for his copy ofBrideshead Revisited.
“Everyone can see us,” Julian repeated, releasing a sigh sounding like relief.
Alex furrowed his brow, but the warming sensation caused by their knees brushing underneath the table diverted his attention. He gestured to the bike helmet. “How often do you ride?”
“I’ve been trying to take some friendly advice and get back into it.” Julian appeared to glare at his helmet before chuckling. “It’s been almost a year since I was on a bike. The terrains around this here are… different.”
“The mountains?”
“And the forests and the winding roads.” Julian unlatched his satchel. The soft rustling of papers and the faint clink of miscellaneous items echoed as he rifled through its contents. “I’m used to the Illinois plains, where you can ride for miles without an incline. Here, it’s constant undulating hills and sharp bends.”
Alex nodded. “Makes for a good workout, though.” He watched Julian, immersed in his satchel excavation. Did he also sense their connection? “The views, especially during sunrise over the mountains, are something else. If you ever want to—.”
“Found them!” From his satchel, Julian removed a fistful of colored markers, which he placed on the table.
As one rolled toward the edge, Alex reached to catch it, grabbing Julian’s hand instead. He jerked his hand back to adjust the bulge growing in his pants. Alex sat back in his chair to cross his legs. If markers made him sprout wood, he would implode within the hour.
