His eyes widen, as if he’s surprised at the reprimand.
I want to go to him but I remember what he saw outside earlier, the look on his face.
“You did a great thing today.”
“It’s a BBQ, not Nobel Prize-winning research.”
“The little moments matter. Without them, the big moments can’t happen.”
He crosses the kitchen, pinning me against the sink with his hips. “I kept telling myself I had no business being with you—that you were too young and on a different path. I thought I could teach you how to live without rules, but you taught me more.”
He bends closer, near enough our mouths brush.
“I can’t do this anymore, Olivia,” he murmurs against my lips.
The words barely register.
He’s so close and after hours of staring at him across the yard, watching him try to do right by the department and the team, it’s all I can do not to wrap my legs around him and show him how damned proud I am.
“Do what?”
“No feelings. I told myself I’d try for you, because that’s the one concession you asked of me. But I’m over trying to get through the day without thinking of you. Your smile. Your mind. Your fucking kindness. I’ve had a lot of dark times in my life, but if they brought me to you, I’m willing to square with them.”
I pull back to stare in his dark, stormy eyes.
What I find makes my chest expand until I can’t breathe.
Hope.
Trust.
Possibility.
“In the good moments and the bad ones,” he goes on, “you’re the first person I think of. You’re in my bed and in my heart. And I’m not letting you out of either.”
“No fucking way.”
We both turn to see Adam standing in the doorway, phone in his hand.
23
Olivia
“Adam—”
He knows. It’s plain in the horror on his face, the grim line of his mouth.
He turns and stalks back down the hall.
I run after him. “It’s not what you think.” He grunts in pain as I grab his bad arm, forcing him around.
His face is incredulous as he holds the phone up. “This isn’t what I think?”
There’s a picture of me and Sawyer, lips locked, my hands in his hair and his gripping my ass.
“What the hell, Liv? This is why you’ve been distant? I know you were under pressure from your parents, but you don’t need him to get a good grade—”
“This is none of your business, Adam.” Sawyer’s voice from behind me is the last thing I need. “You can’t expect a woman to wait around for you.”
Sawyer, don’t.
“She’s been my girlfriend since we were sixteen,” Adam retorts, jaw jutting. “If you tried touching her then, you’d be in jail right now, asshole.”
“If you try touching her now, you will be.”
They’re the same height. Sawyer always seemed bigger, because everything he is, he backs up.
“If you knew how to treat her, she wouldn’t be with me. But you couldn’t see what was right in front of you.”
“Wow. This went back to the start of the school year?” Adam lurches toward me.
“It doesn’t have to do with class, or the project.”
“Really, Liv?” He gets close to me now, staring in my eyes. “So what, you get off on being his toy?”
“I’m not his toy.”
I’m in love with him.
“Tell me this asshole pressured you.”
He’s like my parents, thinking I need protection.
I could make that look of horror and disgust on his face disappear. Say that it was all a mistake, save my own ass, and maybe convince him not to turn Sawyer in, too.
“What’d he do to you, babe?”
But it’s not the truth. And right now, staring down years of expectations in Adam’s bright blue eyes, I’m not willing to bend.
I lift my chin. “He makes me come so hard I think I’m going to die.”
Adam’s eyes flash and he whirls on his heel for the back door, phone in hand.
SAWYER
When I descend the stairs, everyone knows something’s wrong. It’s plain on the stunned faces.
In the crowd, a few jump out at me. Madison looks morbidly fascinated. Royce is confused. Betty stands in one corner, her painted lips a round “o” of dismay. Daniel’s shoulders slump, as if he was hoping we might get through this despite knowing deep down we couldn’t.
Adam’s standing next to the dean, eyes narrowed at me in accusation and betrayal. As if the fact that I dared touch Olivia is violating some greater evil than making his ex-girlfriend happier than she ever was with him.
But it’s the dean who speaks first.
“Professor Redmond.” He says the words as if he’s shocked and appalled, but the way he steps forward says he’s been waiting for this day. “A student has come to me with some intensely disturbing allegations. Allegations I’m inclined to believe because he’s furnished evidence. We’ll meet tomorrow afternoon to investigate once I’ve convened the disciplinary committee.” Disciplinary sounds like firing squad. “In the meantime, we’ll have your TA cover your classes, and the team’s participation in the Stars competition will have to be put on hold.”
No.
My students’ expressions go from confused to horrified.
“What’s going on?” Royce demands.
“Party’s over.” Daniel gestures toward the gate, willing people to leave.
My gaze locks with Olivia’s.
“Miss Barclay,” the dean goes on, “I strongly suggest you keep to yourself for the next little while. If you need counseling resources, student services can provide them. Please monitor your email, as the disciplinary committee will no doubt want to hear from you.”
I can’t talk to her now. Her eyes say she wants to, but that’s going to make things worse.
Right after I told her I want more. She didn’t have time to react.
Now, she goes with everyone else.
The strangest part was today had started to feel good. Like before the dean showed up, I didn’t hate having everyone here.
The last time I was at this school, in this house, I felt like a missing piece from a different puzzle.
This afternoon, I was part of something. I never asked for this, and now that it’s gone, my gut feels strangely empty.
24
Sawyer
The next day, everything moves in slow motion.
I get up, make coffee, shower, and pull on fresh clothes. As if it’s any other day, except it’s not.
I go in and meet with the half dozen men and two women on the disciplinary committee. The dean is, of course, chairing. At least there’s one friendly face—Betty’s at the end of the table, recording while also taking notes on her notebook computer. When her gaze meets mine, there’s sympathy, not reproach.
As the hearing begins, phrases like gross misconduct, formal inquiry, probationary period drift through my brain.