“Great.” I buried my head in my hands. “Fuck. Now what?”
Tim clapped his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know, but if it were me—I’d maybe figure out which bigshot was unhappy with me, and try to make amends. That’s probably the only way to fix things. Otherwise? I guess just keep your head down and finish up the program.”
I managed to thank him, and he cast me a sympathetic glance before heading off. “If you do need to throw a few back after this, well, you know where to find me.”
My mind reeled as I made my way to my next class. I didn’t need to figure out which bigshot was unhappy with me. Pretty sure I had a hard lock on that.
But make amends? That meant giving up David.
My TA job, or a relationship with David. How was I supposed to make a decision like that?
More importantly—why should I have to?
12
David
I was in the middle of reading a paper on the ancient Sumerian Civilization when my office door burst open, without a knock or hint of a warning.
I sighed, set my red pen down to mark my place, and prepared myself to properly berate whichever student had abandoned his manners this time around. When I lifted my head, my entire body jolted awake.
Seb stormed into my office and slammed the door shut behind him.
I opened my mouth to chastise his unnecessary use of force until his expression registered. His cheeks were flushed and his usually smiling mouth was tight-lipped, with a small bloody spot on his lower lip where he’d been biting it. He didn’t sit. Instead, he paced around my office like a possessed man.
All of my alarm bells started to ring. “Seb? What’s wrong?”
His demeanor was agitated, but his eyes? They drooped at the corners, conveying a sense of defeat that sliced at my heart. “My TA application was denied, on the grounds of the morality clause,” he said. Even his voice held this dullness, like he’d resigned himself to this fate and had completely given up.
Beautiful Seb, defeated. I wouldn’t have it.
I rose from my chair, ready to do battle on his behalf. “Unacceptable. I’ll go visit the dean right this minute and get to the bottom of this.”
Seb shook his head and collapsed into one of my chairs. “Don’t. We’ll just have to ride this out.” He scooted down in the chair and shrugged, somehow managing to look both pathetic and adorable and sexy, all at once. “I don’t know, maybe this is a sign that we should both be looking at other options.”
Other options? Alarm crackled down my spine. I narrowed my eyes. “By other options, do you mean dating other people?”
Seb’s head jerked up. “What the…? No! I meant career options.”
The amount of relief that flooded my muscles was ludicrously high. “Right. Ok. Just checking.”
As I watched, Seb perked up for the first time since entering my office. “Did you really think I barged in here to tell you I wanted to see other people? And that idea upset you?”
I mock scowled at him and feigned interest in rearranging the pens on my desk. “You don’t have to look quite so delighted by that notion, you evil boy.”
“Oh, but I totally do.” He smiled at me, causing a warm glow to suffuse my skin. “And, yeah, I only meant careers. I mean, sure, this blows, don’t get me wrong,” I sighed and raised my eyebrows at his choice of vernacular but didn’t bother to scold him, “but overall, I figure it’s a bump in the road, and maybe a wake-up call that freelancing is where it’s at.”
He sounded more resigned than anything now, but still. That look on his face when he’d first walked in haunted me. I skirted the edge of my desk and grabbed his hand. “Come here,” I said. I led him over to the cozy, rarely used couch that ran along the far wall of my office, sat, and then tugged on his hand until he settled beside me. I curled my hand into his soft waves and gently guided his head into my chest. He nestled up against me with a contented noise, deep in his throat, while his hand wrapped around my waist. We rested like that for several long minutes. Silent except for the occasional laugh of a student or boisterous voice that seeped under the door.
I hadn’t been thinking about anything beyond comforting him, but this closeness suffused my limbs with a languid ease, and softened my cynical heart. Seb’s warm body cuddled up against mine. The faint feathering of his breath against my neck. His scent, all sweet and musky and uniquely Seb, curling around me and inviting me in.
His lean warmth curled next to me felt so good. So right.
I could get used to this, and I wasn’t sure if I should be thrilled or terrified.
13
Seb
I stood by David’s side in the elegant room filled with elegant people, marveling at how relaxed my body was. How at ease I was to be his date at such a sophisticated event. I mean, most of these guys had to be sporting several thousand dollar suits…which went perfectly with their tasteful yet gleaming watches that probably cost more than my grad school grant.
David introduced me to a man named Chase around his age who had silver streaks in his hair, piercing blue eyes, and an obviously buff body beneath his tailored suit. A total DILF. In turn, Chase introduced us to his trial escort, Danny—a young, almost gangly man with reddish hair and a wide-eyed, easy smile. As we made small talk, I wondered if maybe that was part of the reason I felt so chill—because every single couple here looked at least vaguely similar to David and I. Older, wealthy man paired with men twenty or so years younger, give or take a few. David was at ease with us here because everyone else was in the same boat. No judgments, no raised eyebrows from stodgy old goats who still used terms like “morality clause” and “the homosexuals.”
Everyone here got the attraction, which meant David could relax.
Relaxed David, by the way? Sexy as fuck.
While I’d been daydreaming, our little group of four had somehow grown to eight. One of the men I hadn’t been introduced to yet asked how things were going.
I sipped my beer and waited absently for David to reply.
“Honestly? It’s been a bit of a wild ride. The university pulled the morals clause on us, because someone reported that they’d seen us together on a date.”
I almost choked on my beer. Whoa. I figured David would brush off the question. Instead, he’d dived right in.
The man made a disgusted noise, like something nasty had caught in his throat. “That’s horseshit, pardon my French. Who do they think they are?”
Chase chimed in. “I heard of a similar thing happening to another Club couple, early on. The patron was part of a prestigious but stuffy investment group. If I recall correctly, they took the issue to Monsieur, who worked his magic and, poof! The problem went away.”
The other man nodded. “Doesn’t surprise me in the least—you know Monsieur and his connections.” He turned to David. “You should talk to Monsieur about the university, I bet he can steer them straight.”
“As long as he doesn’t steer us too straight.” David winked at me, and everyone laughed, including me. This was the David I especially loved—carefree in his slightly prissy way, good-natured, and able to know just what to say.