She left to grab her purse. Her lunch was over soon.
I plunged my hands back into the soapy water, trawling my fingers across the sink to make sure I hadn't missed anything. My mother's casual mention of me finding my mate had my shoulders feeling heavy. Part of what my mother had said was true. Seamus liked to play hard, right away. But it wasn't that I wasn't that way, but rather I'd seen what sort of choices Seamus had made. The wrong ones, over and over.
I was too afraid to let loose and relax. Too afraid to stop doing anything but study and learn. I knew those two things couldn't get me into trouble. I was so terrified of making the same bad choices my brother had that I didn't make any choices at all. It had taken months of wanting to approach Professor Crawford to actually approach him.
"I'm heading back, Shiloh," my mom said, passing by the kitchen doorway.
I waved, splashing the floor with drops of soapy water.
"My plane leaves while you're in class, but I'll say goodbye before you leave tomorrow morning. Are you all set for while I'm away? You have food here, and you have my bank cards in case you need money."
"I'll be fine, Mom. Don't worry." She gave me a hug before leaving, and I finished draining the sinks, wiping up the water spots I'd gotten on the floor and counter.
Now that everyone was gone and I'd spent my day with boisterous, happy people, the house felt too quiet. I went to the front door, checking that it was locked before finding my phone.
Professor Crawford hadn't texted again. But did that mean I shouldn't text him? Visiting with my brother had been partly his idea. It would be nice if I let him know how it had gone. Before I could convince myself otherwise, I typed out a text and pressed send.
Thank you for the suggestion. I had a great time visiting with my brother today.
I sank down into the couch as my phone chimed.
Glad to hear it. Sounds like you have just enough time to get a good night's sleep and be ready to work tomorrow.
I smiled. He had to be exaggerating. But I didn't mind the idea of spending large amounts of time with him, so I didn't ask any questions.
After visiting, my brother, Mr. Thibodeaux, and his son came for dinner. It was really good for my mother. She's been so worried for Seamus, and it was nice for her to see him so well-adjusted.
After sending the text, I covered my face and groaned. "Great, Shiloh. He doesn't care about this."
I'm glad you enjoyed yourself too.
My stomach fluttered with sudden butterflies.
I did, and I wanted to say again how much I appreciate this chance. I won't let you down. It might have taken me a while to work up the courage, but I'm glad I did.
What was wrong with me? I kept sending texts with too much personal info while Professor Crawford was clearly trying to keep this light. I reached for the remote and rapidly thumbed through channels before tossing it on the end couch cushion in frustration. My phone hadn't chimed with a reply yet. I looked at the screen, staring at the three, innocent dots.
I waited some more.
Finally, the war between my curiosity and embarrassment ended. I hastily typed a goodnight message, keeping my words as casual as I could. The three dots disappeared and then reappeared again before I got the message:
Goodnight, Shiloh.
I tossed my phone with the remote and laid back. I might have had time enough for a good night's sleep, but I'd be up much longer simply wondering what Professor Crawford had been typing before the three dots disappeared.
Chapter Six
Beckett
The light around me changed from the bright sun of a crisp fall morning to the dark gloom of the hallway. I wasn't as early arriving on campus as I would have been if I hadn't forced myself to do every step of my normal morning routine. I'd done a mile more than my usual five on the treadmill just to make up for how early I'd gotten out of bed. After, I'd showered and made breakfast and my coffee before beginning the walk to campus.
I preferred doing things myself, which was why even though I could theoretically afford a driver, someone to make my breakfast, and someone to retrieve my coffee, I wouldn't get the satisfaction I received from doing it myself. But this morning, I'd wanted to roll straight out of bed and into the classroom because that was where I was going to see Shiloh.
He'd stayed on my mind from the moment we'd parted ways in my office. The desire to see him only increased, confirming my suspicions about my ability to go back to a time when Shiloh Formes wasn't the first thought on my mind. I didn't have anything I needed to tell him or any plan of what I would do when we were together again, I just wanted him near. Staying away from him for as long as I had felt like I'd achieved something only the mighty were capable of. But now, I didn't have to. He'd be in my first class, and I'd finally be able to relax knowing he was within reach.
My excitement had me walking much more quickly than I would have on any other morning, and I burst into the lecture hall five minutes early. Shiloh's scent hit me a moment before I zeroed in on the sound of his heart. I forgot myself for a moment, my feet drifting toward him while my cane hung idly in my hand.
I slammed into something that wasn't normally sitting in the middle of the lecture hall, and though I caught myself before falling, my coffee and cane went flying, while my messenger bag slid down my arm and to the ground. It sounded like the contents had flung out across the floor.
The room gave a collective gasp.
"I hope you're all as eager to start the week as I am," I joked so they knew that, while embarrassing for me, this wasn't the end of the world. Sometimes I fell. Not normally, and not in a long time, but I'd been so excited to get to Shiloh, I'd rushed.
Speaking of Shiloh, his scent grew stronger as he approached. "Professor Crawford, let me help you," he said quietly.
His instincts were sweet, but in a moment like this, when I stood before my students who looked up to me and respected me, it was important that I presented myself as capable as I was. Perhaps it was a flaw, and it spoke to my vanity and pride, but in the end, if I wanted help, I wanted to be able to ask for it. Not have the help assumed.
"Thank you, Shiloh, but that won't be necessary. I can manage. Go ahead and take your seat." To the room, I announced, "Shiloh Formes will be assisting me with my ongoing research. He isn't my teacher's assistant, and you shouldn't treat him as one. He's here to do research… and my bidding."
The students chuckled.
"As soon as I finish here, we'll be picking up on our lecture regarding extreme nesting patterns that we see in bird shifters. Refresh your minds on the details, and we can get started in a few minutes." The rustling of papers and backpacks told me the students were doing just as I asked. All but one student. "Shiloh," I said much more quietly. "I told you I don't need your help." I'd found my cane and used it to locate my coffee cup. I'd wised up, choosing a travel mug with a twist top. Thankfully, I still had coffee when I reached for it.
"Some of these papers went really far, Professor Crawford. I just want to make sure—" He set some papers on the desk and turned to retrieve more when I grabbed his wrist.
"Mr. Formes, go sit down." I was careful to speak only loud enough for Shiloh to hear. His instinct was to help me, and I appreciated that, but if we were going to work successfully together, then he had to know that there were times when his help was appreciated and times when it was not necessary. And I was the person to decide when those times were.