I laugh, loving the sound of that.
“Maybe we should practice the making out part to be sure we get it right.” I add shyly, “We can head back to my place after we’re done working. Alyssa won’t be home for a while.”
“Nope,” he says firmly. “All messing around will have to wait until after the date. We’re going to do this right.”
My heart melts into a puddle of goo.
What’s this guy doing to me?
A grin flashes across his face. “What?”
I shake my head and trace his lips with my index finger. “You’re not the guy I thought you were.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
When my finger dips inside his mouth, he bites down gently, and I gasp before pulling it out.
“Nothing is going to mess this up,” he murmurs.
A little bubble of happiness bursts in my heart. I really hope he means everything he’s saying. Because this Beck, the one he’s slowly revealing to me, is someone I could fall for. Even though the idea of putting my heart in his hands is a frightening one, I’m no longer sure I have a choice in the matter.
“We should probably hit the books.” I need to focus on something other than the emotions crashing around inside me.
With one last kiss, I slide from his lap and settle on the chair across from him. Beck emails me a copy of his outline along with the rough draft for comp class. It takes about twenty minutes to look it over, add suggestions with the editing tool before sending it back to him. Then he gets to work, sifting through his research and working on his paper.
Before I realize it, two hours have slipped by.
“How did your meeting with Dr. H go?” I ask before stretching my muscles.
“Fine, I guess.” Something indecipherable flickers in his eyes, and I’m not sure what to make of it. “She said everything looked good.”
“From what you’ve shown me, you’re on the right track. Once you finish up with the rough draft, the process should move faster.” I pause before adding, “Consider yourself lucky that you didn’t get Dr. Templeton for this class. He’s so boring and long-winded. Dr. Hayes is amazing. Don’t you love her?”
He glances away and his smile fades. “Yeah, she’s okay.”
Okay?
Just okay?
Everyone on campus adores Dr. H. Beck is the first person I’ve run across who hasn’t sung her praises. She goes above and beyond for her students. She’s always trying out new teaching methods to keep her class fresh and interesting.
I tilt my head and try to puzzle out why there’s been such an abrupt shift in his demeanor. It’s like a mask has fallen over him.
“Did something happen?” I ask. Although, I can’t imagine what that could be.
“I don’t know.” He shrugs and fidgets with his pen. “I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean?”
Beck shoves away from the table and folds his arms across his chest. I try not to get distracted by the movement. God bless, but he has amazing biceps.
I’m pulled out of my perusal when he says, “She’s nice. Friendly.” There’s a pause and his voice drops. “Maybe a little too friendly, if you catch my drift.”
Huh?
I shake my head. “What does that mean? Too friendly?” No one has ever complained about Dr. H being too friendly. In fact, that’s what makes her such a great teacher. Every month, she hosts a book club meeting for students at her house. There are appetizers, drinks, and intellectual conversation where everyone is free to express their opinions.
Seriously, who does that?
There’s not another professor on campus who is more beloved than her.
So, I’m uncertain what Beck is driving at.
“I don’t know,” he mutters, clearly frustrated by his inability to express his thoughts. “Maybe it’s all in my head. Forget I said anything about it.”
If there’s a problem, I want to know what it is. I reach across the table and lay my fingers over Beck’s before giving them a squeeze. “No, tell me.”
He huffs out an exasperated breath before pressing closer to the table. “I’ve met with her twice now and each time it feels like she’s coming on to me.”
What?
No way!
It takes everything I have inside not to burst out laughing. It’s the look on his face that forces me to keep the sound buried deep inside.
He’s serious.
He believes this is happening.
“Okay,” I say carefully, wanting to get to the bottom of this. “What has she done to make you feel so uncomfortable?”
He withdraws his fingers from mine and grows restless before glaring at something in the distance. “I don’t know.” He jerks his shoulders. “It’s the way she stares and talks to me. She keeps touching me.” He bites his lower lip. “When I was in her office, she sat way too close on the couch. Her boob was pressed against my arm. It was weird.” A dull red color settles in his cheeks.