Before Ford could say whose daughter I was, I lied. "It didn't match my dress for the donors’ dinner. My name's Trisha Maxwell."
The security guard rolled his eyes and opened the door for me. "Asleep at the wheel again, Ford?" he asked.
Ford scrubbed a hand over his face as if he'd just woken up. "Would have slept all night if I didn't hear her clattering around."
We stepped out into the cool night air and Ford followed me down the sidewalk. I shivered, but refused to look back, afraid he would offer me his coat again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ford
"Hold on. Let me lock up," the security guard said. He rattled a large ring of keys and pulled the doors securely shut behind him. "You're sure no one else is rattling around in there?"
I shrugged but shook my head. "The School of Journalism doesn't really work late at night. Our department head likes everyone to stick to a strict schedule."
The guard rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it. Last week, I was on my rounds and she timed how long it took for me to check the first floor."
"Well, you can always blame it on me. Or just mention my name and she'll move on," I laughed.
"She after you too?" The guard slapped me on the shoulder, then followed Clarity down the steps. "How about I give you a ride to your dorm?"
"No, that's alright, I live ..." Clarity caught herself before she pointed in the direction of her father's house. "I'm just heading over there."
"Meeting your boyfriend, huh?" The security guard looked back at me and grinned. "Bet he opted for beer pong and the party at the frat house instead of wearing a tuxedo and being a decent escort for her. Charming."
"There's another party at the frat house?" I asked. "I thought the Dean of Students was telling them to make them less frequent."
The security guard heaved a big sigh as he hefted himself up into his campus pickup truck. "He couldn't tell them no after they creamed the Lawrence team. Looks like we've got a winning team this year."
Clarity had taken a few steps away but stopped. "Why isn't that a good thing?"
"More wins, more parties, those boys starting thinking they're big men. Someone's got to put them in their place, and you know how exhausting that is?" The guard shut his door and leaned on the window. "You sure you don't want a lift back to your dorm?"
"I'll walk with her," I volunteered. "Nothing kills a party like a professor."
"No offense, Ford, but you look more like a student than a professor. Get yourself a tweed jacket or something, for god's sake."
I laughed. "I'm in a tuxedo, doesn't that give me any gravitas?"
The guard shook his head with a grin. "Not even with that big vocabulary. Alright, miss, you let the professor there walk with you. And if those boys can't behave themselves, go straight for a knee to the groin."
"Sound advice," I agreed.
Clarity laughed but took off down the sidewalk without me. The campus pickup truck drove off. I caught up with Clarity, but couldn't think of a thing to say. We walked a few dozen yards in silence, just taking in the peaceful chill of the fall night.
Outwardly, the night was calm and quiet, but inside I was a riot. Clarity's creamy skin in the moonlight made it impossible for me to adopt the patriarchal professor role I had all but promised the security guard I could take on. All I could think about was the stumble that brought our bodies together, the lights going out and plunging us into an insulated darkness where anything felt possible.
Every fiber of my body still called out for her kiss and my mind kept circling back to the memory of our lips only inches apart.
It sounded so wildly inappropriate, a professor lusting after a student, but it felt different. I knew from my first year disaster what was wrong and I couldn't help but wonder if this was right. Clarity looked at the world with clear eyes and was open about what she could and could not handle.
I was different too. It wasn't lust that drove me closer to her as we walked along the sidewalk. It was a magnetic desire to talk to her, to hear what was on her mind. She always surprised and inspired me and I hadn't felt inspiration like that in years.
"You're shivering; here, take my coat," I said. I slipped off the tuxedo jacket again and swung it towards her shoulders.
Clarity ducked away. "No, thank you. I'm fine."
We rounded the corner and could see the frat house far in the distance. The raucous party was spilling out the front door and down the porch to the lawn. We had a dozen or so yards of peace before those drunken football players saw her and started their cat calls.
I wanted to stop her, to make her turn to me. The sickening thought that she really was going to see her boyfriend sent my mind spinning.
"Are you still seeing that quarterback?" I caught her arm and stopped her cold.
"Adam?" Clarity blinked up at me. "Are you kidding? You were there the last time I went out with him, remember?"
"Yeah, well, the kid's on a winning streak. He's going to be king of campus for the rest of the season. Isn't that what college girls find attractive?"
Clarity did not shake off my hand on her bare arm. Instead she patted my cheek and gave me a silly, condescending smile. "College girls are actually women, and everyone knows that females mature a lot faster than males."
I swallowed hard and wished she hadn't voiced my earlier thoughts. "Excuse me," I said, "but last time I checked, a hot quarterback was every woman's type."
Clarity dropped her hand but kept smiling up at me. "Adam's tall, dark, and handsome, and I have to admit he's attractive, but he still isn't my type. I'm not looking for someone to spout sports scores and brag about touchdown passes."
"Then what are you looking for?" I let go of her arm as the question surprised us both. "I'm sure Landsman College has plenty of sensitive poets or focused scientists. You can take your pick."
Clarity laughed and shook her head. "No, I couldn't. And all I'm looking for is someone who challenges me, someone who pushes me to be more. I don't really get that from college guys. It's probably going to have to be someone older, who's been out in the world."
My fingers brushed one silky curled hair hanging loosely. "I'm glad you know you deserve better than a frat house football player."
"You know I'm really going home, right? I have no intention of going to that party at all," Clarity said. Her face leaned toward my hand and she brushed her cheek along my fingers.
I stepped back and shoved both hands in the pockets of my tuxedo pants. "Always the good girl. I bet the dean never even gives you a curfew because you're always home on time anyway."
"Good girl?" Clarity asked. "What about the blatant lies I just told a campus security guard. Pretty sure that breaks to the honor code too."
I wondered if giving the security guard a false name rated up there with almost kissing me in my office. Clarity had leaned in, her fingers tugging at my shirt front. I knew I hadn't imagined that. She was just as aware as I was how close we'd come, but I didn't see even a glimmer of regret in her green eyes.