Before I can get through the door, Zoe swoops in from around the corner and drags me out of sight. This time, I don’t resist. The second we’re away from the stream of students, she asks, “You had sex with our calculous professor?” Her question is a volume below a stage whisper.
“Stop.” I glance in all directions and lean into her space. “I. Did. Not. Know. Who. He. Was.”
“Well, now you do.” She drops my arm and shoves a strand of hair behind her ear. “This is crazy. First, Heather confirms your sister hooked up with the bartender at her bachelorette party, and now this…. I don’t even know who the two of you are.”
“The bartender.” I raise my eyebrows. “The bartender from the wedding?”
“I don’t know which bartender.”
What in the fuck? Yes, she was hanging on to him when she got her drinks, but Wyatt was always with her. I didn’t think anything about it at the time. I assumed it was the alcohol talking. I grip the strap of my backpack. “Does Wyatt know?”
“I don’t know. Heather clammed up when she realized she had told me something she shouldn’t have. But it was too late.” She gives me a shitty look. “And I deserve a thank you for that. I’ll never get that ten minutes of my life back. Thank you very much.”
“Thank you for distracting Heather. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
Did I wake up in an alternate universe? I don’t know where I am. How do I look at Wyatt at the next family dinner and not feel guilty for what I know? We aren’t sitting on the back deck and drinking margaritas kind of friends, but we’ve known each other for eight years. And my parents? They’d flip out if they knew. They spent over 50k on the wedding festivities.
“What are you going to do about Professor Taylor?”
My hands shake as I focus on the bigger issue or at least my bigger issue. “Nothing. We agreed it didn’t happen. He left the reception and went home.”
“Are you okay with that?” Her eyes search my face for clues that I’m breaking.
“I’m good with that. It was my idea. Or at least labeling it as a mistake is a good idea. I told him it would have been better if I’d have hooked up with the bartender instead, but that would have been awkward now that I know he slept with my sister.”
“True.” Zoe nods.
“School must be my number one priority. Since I was a girl, I’ve planned to go to medical school like my father. I love helping people and while I’ve already finished my degree in social work, becoming a physician is what my parents expect.”
“I’m glad because messing around with the guy before you knew who he was is one thing. But sneaking around while taking classes with him is another.”
I shiver. Yeah. That’s a whole other scenario. He walks past us without glancing in my direction. Looking every bit like the sexy dirty hero in every student/teacher novel I’ve ever read. I jerk my attention back to Zoe. “I’ve got to get to work. I’ll talk to you later.”
She wraps her arm around my shoulders and gives me a quick hug. “We’ve got this. You’re going to ace calculus and if you don’t….” She winks. “You’ll cry foul and out him.”
My teeth grind together. “You didn’t just say that.”
“Yes.” She waggles her eyebrows. “I did.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Well, I didn’t. This happened before he was my professor, and nothing will happen now.”
“You’re missing a perfect opportunity,” she says in a singsong voice and disappears down the hallway, mixed between the students rushing to their next classes. That is not going to happen. I would never do that. I glare at her back. And she knows it. I’ll work my ass off to figure this class out if it’s the last thing I do.
***
Three Hours Later
I pour coffee into the white porcelain coffee mug to the invisible three-quarters line and tip the pot upright. “Is that enough, Mrs. Redding?”
“Perfect.” The white-haired woman beams up at me from her booth seat. “You’re such a delight around here.” The scent of cupcakes from Chloe’s Bakery mixes with the rolls and roast beef from the café. I’ve worked for Jeanne and Martin Sparks for the last three years, and they’re like family to me.
“Thank you. I appreciate the compliment.” My face heats as her words fill my empty tank with cheer. Between stressing about calculus and knowing my professor is Alexander, my nerves have been on edge all day.
But surely, if I study, I’ll do good. If there’s one thing I pride myself on, it’s my solid work ethic. I don’t stay out partying until 8:00 a.m. and then drag my ass to class an hour later. If I’m up all night, it’s because I’m studying.
She folds her hand together on top of the table. The veins in her hands are purple and bulge under her thin skin. She’s been a regular since I was hired, and before that, she was my English teacher. “How was the first day of school?”