That's right. The coffee I made him spill over the both of us. "Yes, here. I'm sorry. I owe you a coffee."
"That's quite all right," he replied tersely. He used his cane to feel the ground to the side of me, sweeping it back and forth as he checked the path forward. "Excuse me." He stepped to the side of me, continuing down the hallway. The tip of his cane slide over the floor continuously, and he was almost to the double doors that led outside.
It had taken me months to work up the courage to approach Professor Crawford. I hadn't even tried spying on him because I was afraid I wasn't ready. For some reason, I'd thought I was ready then, but clearly I wasn't.
I was letting him walk away without ever having mentioned the class to him.
"Pro-professor Crawford!" I yelled, skipping to reach him quickly.
He stopped in front of the door, offering me his profile. I didn't know what was wrong with me. My words dried up in the face of his silhouette, clearly outlined by the light streaming in through the windows. He had a sharp jaw, square chin, and a proud, strong nose. This man wasn't just outside my academic league—he was outside of my every league. Clearly, I had no business asking for more than I'd worked for.
But that wouldn't stop me. "Professor Crawford, my name is Shiloh Formes. I'm a first-year student here at Morningwood University, and I want to register for your next term Abnormal Shifter Behavior class."
He looked down his nose at me. Well, I guess, no, he didn't. His blindness wasn't something I'd been expecting. There weren't many blind shifters. I'd never met one myself. But he faced me when he replied like he was looking down his nose at me. "My classes aren't open to first or second-year students. I found the course work to be too advanced and the load to be too heavy for students just beginning. When you go to register for your third year, consider one of my classes then."
Immediately after callously dashing my dreams, he pushed the door open and exited the building—taking my hopes with him.
Chapter Two
Beckett
I was thankful to get out of the hallway and into the fresh air of the outdoor corridor. The pheromones swirling around that eager student had been thick. And they'd crept in gradually, leading me to believe my presence had been the cause. I wasn't unaccustomed to others having a reaction to me. I was told I was handsome and stayed fit. But I wasn't used to my own body responding in the same way. Thank heavens my puff adder counterpart dampened the smells coming from me, or that moment in the hallway would have become more than annoying, but inappropriate as well.
My reprieve was short-lived however, as the student rushed out the door, stopping at my side instead of sneaking in front of me. I was aware of him now anyway and could hear his rapidly pounding heart. The student was nervous, and I wondered why. While I was well-respected in my field, most shifters had no idea who I was, and of those that did, many of them didn't trust Animal Psychology, claiming all they needed to interact with their inner beast was their intuition and instincts. That worked for some, but not for all. Besides, I didn't just research ways our animals reacted to ourselves but how they reacted to other people as well. But this student, Shiloh Formes, he clearly knew who I was.
"I'm sorry, Professor Crawford, but I can't take no for an answer." The student didn't sound half as confident as he probably would have liked. In fact, it sounded like he would take no for an answer.
He'd have to. I couldn't bend my rules for one student. And he wasn't the first to ask for early access into one of my classes. But I'd learned after my first year at Morningwood University that younger students simply couldn't handle all that was required of them to succeed in my classes. "Why do you care so much about Animal Psychology, Mr. Formes?"
His voice was light and pleasant but wispy, and I expected much stuttering in reply to my question. When it didn't immediately happen, I slowed my steps to a stop, using my cane to locate the benches that lined the path in this part of campus. I didn't sit but gestured for Mr. Formes to follow me to the side so we'd remain out of the flow of foot traffic.
"My um, my older brother doesn't always make the best choices. A lot of the time, he acts like he has no choice, and my mother always says that some shifters' inner animals just have a harder time living in the human world. She believes my brother will settle down, if he finds his mate. At least, she hopes for that. Seamus isn't a bad person, Professor Crawford. He's good, deep down, and I wish I could help him and his inner animal cohabitate more peacefully."
I gripped the handle of my cane, surprised that Mr. Formes didn't just have an answer for me but an impassioned one. He had a spark that couldn't be taught. A thirst for knowledge, and that thirst was driven by something that was personal. He'd go far, if he kept to his studies. But I still couldn't bend the rules for one student, even if his scent lingered on my skin. "Mr. Formes, I don't wish to dampen your academic spark, but my answer remains the same. I will not accept a first or second-year student into my classes. Even students who may one day have scholarly reputations that outshine my own."
"Professor Crawford, please reconsider. Please. I know I'm younger than most of your students, but I'm younger than most university students already. I graduated high school early and as of today am passing all of my classes. I'd be happy to prove my grades. I'm not afraid of hard work."
No, he wouldn't be. He sounded like a dedicated student, and he cared about the field of study, which already put him ahead of some of my other students. I wished things could be different for him. More than that, I wanted to say yes to him. I hadn't before; my decision was final. It still was, but that didn't mean that in this specific case I didn't want to bend the rules for Mr. Formes. I did. And not because he woke up my inner beast in a way that felt wholly extraordinary. I liked his voice. He had a sharp tenor that tickled my ears and made me want to hear him more. His scent, not quite so concentrated now that we were outside and the conversation wasn't going his way, called to me. Yet that voice wasn't telling me there was a student in my presence but a shifter who needed protection. My protection.
If things were different, if he wasn't a student, if he wasn't so very young, this conversation might have gone differently.
I thrust my empty mug into the front flap of my bag to keep from reaching out for the other man. Though his ambition was impressive, and attractive, he could not change my mind. "How old are you?" I asked, immediately wishing that I hadn't. The number wouldn't change anything. But I'd been so curious.
"Seventeen right now. But my birthday is this month."
Yes. That was what I'd needed to hear. I straightened, having subconsciously begun leaning forward to be closer to him. He was a student, but not just that, he was underage. I shouldn't have needed that reminder, but I had it now. "You have your life ahead of you, Mr. Formes. There is no rush at the moment. It sounds like you're already doing what you should be doing. When you become a third-year student and are able to register, I believe you'll realize then why I make students wait. Until then, I can't help you." I followed behind my cane as I used it to sweep the area in front of me. By feeling the vibrations, I was able to travel freely around campus without the aid of any of my other mobility devices.