"No, not until he finishes the rebuild. Why do you want to know this, Professor Crawford?"
He couldn't believe that I just cared for him. Probably because he'd been able to succeed where I had failed at keeping our relationship appropriate. "You said your mom works often?"
"She's the medical examiner, so her schedule is often sporadic. And then there are the conferences she goes on. She has one coming up."
At the very least, I needed to be able to keep Shiloh close. I wouldn't be able to concentrate otherwise. If it turned out I had overreacted, fine. I'd rather overreact than underreact, at least where Shiloh was concerned. "Shiloh, I…" It wasn't common that I didn't know what to say and even less common that I didn't know what to say in a situation where I was searching for words. The mere hint of danger toward Shiloh had sent me into a tailspin.
My hands sat open on my desktop. Fingers curled, palms empty.
"Professor?" Shiloh whispered.
I felt his hand next, white hot against my skin. He didn't hold my hand but caressed my palm in a touch so gentle, I convinced myself it hadn't happened, even while he let his fingers linger.
"It'll be okay, Professor. Whatever is happening. I promise."
I held in my growl, the sound having nothing to do with anger at that moment. Shiloh was so sweet and encouraging. He didn't even understand the situation, and yet his instinct was to comfort me. Suddenly, finding a way of keeping him near didn't seem like enough. But I couldn't think about that. Not right now. This was dangerous enough, for him and me. "You're wearing a jacket," I said. The feel of his jacket sleeve brushing my fingers registered late. But when it did, my chest warmed. He'd done as I asked.
"Someone smart reminded me I should wear one."
If I was waiting for the point of no return, it became clear that moment had passed. "Shiloh, I want to offer you the student research position. You'd be working with me, assisting me with my research. The work will be considerable and will take much of the free time you may have now, but—"
"Yes, yes! Yes! Please! What do I have to do?"
His exuberance made my lips lift.
"Nothing but show up. I'll let the university office know. Here is my number." I handed him one of my business cards. "Text that number, and I'll save your contact info."
He almost yanked the card from my hand. A part of me felt as though I'd tricked him, but the truth was having this research position on his resumé moving forward would open any door if he should continue with Animal Psychology. It would be much more impressive than if he'd just attended one of my classes. I'd be able to watch over him. I could mind my manners. I'd have to. Even if my palm still tingled from his touch.
Chapter Five
Shiloh
I slipped my hand into my pocket, checking again that Professor Crawford's card hadn't somehow slipped out. Professor Beckett Crawford. My cheeks hurt from how wide I was smiling. My entire life had changed in the course of one afternoon, and though everything for me was different now, the rest of the world looked the same.
"Shiloh!"
I turned toward my name, surprised to see Sophie so close.
"I've been calling your name since you came out of the building. What happened? Why did Professor Crawford want to talk to you?"
Before he'd appeared outside the library, Sophie and I had just finished studying and had been heading to the campus coffee shop. She didn't have a coffee yet, so I assumed she'd waited for me. Soph, a tarantula shifter and all-around dedicated student, was at the top of most of her classes as well as the track and field team manager. She was one of my best friends at Morningwood University and hardly ever teased me about being so young.
"He was…" The easy answer here was that he'd called me to his office to offer me the student research position, but that wasn't entirely what the situation had felt like. Professor Crawford had been acting different. I didn't want to say strange because there wasn't anything about the man that struck me as strange. Every additional detail I learned about him only made me want him more.
And I did want him. Not as my teacher, or as someone I could turn to for a recommendation when I furthered my career, but as a man. A shifter. An alpha.
I wouldn't know if I was an alpha or omega until my first sexual experience. There hadn't been a moment yet in my life where I'd thought I was ready for that sort of thing, but I felt ready now.
I had the most ridiculous timing. Why now, with a man so far out of my league? I'd touched his hand. I still couldn't believe my daring, but I wasn't sure how he'd felt about it. I'd never stop thinking about it.
"He wanted to offer me the student research position." Maybe that wasn't one hundred percent accurate, but it was good enough.
Soph frowned and pushed her glasses up her nose. "Really? Why? You aren't in any of his classes."
That was a good point. Why had Professor Crawford offered me the job? I'd known about his research but not that he was looking for someone to assist him. I'd gotten the pretty clear feeling that he worked alone and liked it that way. I didn't enjoy thinking about it. What if I'd somehow taken the position from someone else more qualified? Someone more passionate about the material?
But that was impossible. There wasn't anyone else out there, save the professor himself, who felt more strongly about the work he did. Professor Crawford's research and developments helped make lives better. I believed that with all my heart. "I asked to be let into one of his classes next quarter. He said no, but in the process we talked about his current research project. He's investigating scent maskers, why shifters have used them in the past, and their experience while under the influence. He wants to make scent masking more mainstream in shifter culture, get rid of the social stigma."
Sophie wrinkled her nose, making her have to push her glasses up again. "He wants to make shifters more like normies? I don't know a lot about the guy, but I looked him up while I was waiting for you. He wasn't born in Morningwood," Sophie said, as if that were all the proof she needed.
On one hand, it was sweet that she cared so much that she'd checked him out. When he'd rushed up the steps, I hadn't been able to tell if I was in trouble or not. "There are plenty of other shifter towns that are just as good as Morningwood." Like a hypocrite, I spoke the town's name in a slight whisper, as if I was afraid of someone overhearing.
"He wasn't born in a shifter town at all. He grew up with only normies around him. Of course he wants to make us—"
"He doesn't want anything like that," I snapped. The heat of embarrassment rushed quickly in. "He just wants to give people choices. That's all."
Sophie didn't reply to that, but I figured that was for the best. She didn't agree with me; I saw that much in the stubborn jut of her chin. But she didn't have to, as long as she didn't keep trying to trash talk the man who had just unlocked my entire future career.
"Well, do you still want coffee? Or do you have to rush home to prepare?"
I hooked my arm through hers in a sort of peace offering that didn't make what she said okay but told her I was ready to move past it. "I always have time for coffee with my favorite spider girl."