“Ugh.” She scoffs. “I am not in your fan club.”
“You’re not? You’re not a fan of me?” I try my best to look affronted. “You’re certainly a fan of my dick.”
She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Sometimes I forget you’re not my age, you know that?”
I laugh and we fall into step as we leave my classroom. “Are you meeting Peyton? Can I walk you to the quad?”
“Yes, please.” And I’m pleased with how giddy she gets just by offering to walk with her. It isn’t something we can do every day, and we can’t hold hands or be affectionate, but we can talk and be in each other’s company, and it thrills us both. We are almost out of the law building when I hear my name being called. I turn around to see the dean of the school, Doctor Hendricks coming towards us. “Miss Mitchell, we can discuss your paper another time.”
“Of course, Doctor Reed. Thank you again.” She nods in understanding.
“I’ll see you on Monday,” I tell her before she waves at me and turns to jog down the stairs. It takes everything out of me to pull my gaze from her and not watch her until she disappears out of sight, but I remember I have an audience. “Doctor Hendricks, how’s it going, sir?”
“Well, thank you. How are you settling in?”
“Great. It seems all my students like me.”
“Mmmhmm, I’ll bet.” Doctor Hendricks is old enough to be my father, with white hair that he always keeps slicked down. He wears tweed suits with pocket squares and bow ties and everything about him screams cliché, down to his loafers. A handlebar mustache that matches his hair sits proudly on his upper lip and sometimes he even twirls it as if he’s in a movie. He’d be comical if he weren’t such a fucking nuisance. “Walk with me, son.”
I walk next to him and I can see he’s struggling with how to start. “Some of the other professors are just a bit—concerned with how casual you are with your students.”
“Casual?”
“Yes. They’ve seen that you have quite a large following, typically congregated outside of your door during your office hours. They also stay after class. A group of the…female persuasion lined up to talk to you about…”
“The class?”
He looks at me. “Don’t be daft, now.”
“I don’t know what you’re implying, Joe.” Whatever it is, I could go to HR with it.
Careful now, Aidan. What he’s implying, is what you ARE actually doing.
“I’m not the enemy here. I’m just trying to keep you out of trouble. We’ve had young professors before. Tale as old as time, son. Young professor. Students. The line becomes blurry, yadda yadda yadda.” He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “I just don’t want you to get into trouble. Engaging with a student in an inappropriate manner is grounds for immediate dismissal. God, and the scandal it would cause. I just want you to make sure that you are keeping the lines clear with all students.”
My heart pounds harder for a few beats, but I manage to get it under control as I reassure myself that Skyler and I aren’t going to get caught. We have a system and we stick to it. “Dr. Hendricks, I can assure you, all of my students know where that line is. I’ve never given anyone any indication otherwise.”
I hear the qualifications in my lie even as I speak them. I met Skyler before she was a student. And she knows exactly where that line is.
We can’t fuck in my office.
We can’t kiss in class.
And she can’t take her tests while sitting in my lap.
Other than that, I gave her free reign of “the line.”
“Well, that’s good to know, son. I would hate for you to allow your hormones to jeopardize your future here at Camden Graf.”
I bite my tongue, resisting the urge to tell him where he could stick his unsolicited and somewhat offensive advice. Do I seem like the guy that would get himself wrapped up in some shit like that?
Regardless of the fact that I am that guy, do I seem like I need this lecture?
I spot Skyler immediately on the quad, my eyes trained to find her in any crowd. I hang back, mulling over Doctor Hendrick’s words. Skyler and I rarely have any interaction on campus that could be considered flirting.
Unless someone knows about one of those private sessions we had in my office.
Or the stairwell.