“Yeah.”
He settles beside me before searching my face. “What’s going on?”
“Mom called.” Tears fill my eyes. “Dad packed his bags and left.”
Beck stares in surprise before wrapping his arm around my shoulders and tugging me close. “I’m so sorry.” He presses his lips to the top of my head. “Are you all right?”
I shrug, still feeling dazed. After my conversation with Dad Sunday morning, maybe I should have expected this outcome, but I really thought he would do the right thing. How could he choose her over us?
How could he do that?
“Is your mom okay?”
“No. She’s been blindsided. I offered to come home, but she didn’t want me to.”
“If it’ll make you feel better, I can call my mom and have her check on Julia.”
It’s not a bad idea, but I’m not sure if Mom wants anyone—let alone our neighbors and friends—to know what’s going on.
As I consider the offer, I bite my lip and shake my head. “No, not right now. I’ll call her when I get home later.”
He nods and squeezes me tight. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Thank you.” When I lift my face, he brushes his lips against mine.
“You know I would do anything for you, right?” he murmurs between kisses.
The corners of my lips tremble upward. A few months ago, I could have never imagined trusting Beck enough to lean on him for emotional support. And yet, here we are. In a few short weeks, he’s become one of the most important people in my life.
The irony isn’t lost on me that the one man I thought I’d always be able to depend on has flaked and the one I would have never dared open my heart to is proving himself to be someone I could fall in love with.
Chapter Thirty
Beck
A small knot of tension sits at the bottom of my belly as I rap my knuckles against Dr. Hayes’ partially open office door. She glances up from her computer screen and smiles before waving me in.
“Thanks for stopping by.” She pulls off her glasses and sets them on the desk next to her coffee cup. “I read over your latest draft and have a few suggestions.” She leans back in her chair. “I thought it would be easier for us to discuss them in person rather than emailing back and forth.
“Sure, no problem.”
“Great. Want to get started?”
I nod.
As I take a step toward the desk, she waves to the tiny loveseat. “Let’s sit on the couch, it’ll be more comfortable.”
Comfortable for who?
Certainly not me.
My step falters as I clear my throat, and search for an excuse why that won’t work. I’m trying to keep as much distance between us as possible. “My computer is kind of heavy. It might be better to set it on the desk while we work.” I’m grasping at straws. My computer weighs a pound or two at the most.
Her lips twitch with amusement. “The coffee table will be fine.”
Damn.
Mia’s words swirl through my head.
She’s friendly.
She isn’t coming on to you.
She’s one of the most beloved professors on campus.
You’ve misinterpreted her intentions.
Dr. Hayes rises from her desk and slides past me while I stand rooted in place. When her body brushes against mine, my anxiety levels spike.
It’s all in my head.
I’m being too sensitive.
Once she’s settled, I glance longingly at the office door before forcing myself to close the distance between us. My lips flatten when I realize she’s positioned herself smack dab in the middle, not leaving much room on either side.
When I hesitate, she pats the cushion beside her, and I have no other choice but to sit down. I squash my six-foot frame as close to the armrest as possible and keep my attention focused straight ahead as I set the computer on the coffee table and fire it up.
Any distance I had purposely left is eaten up when she scoots closer.
With our thighs pressed together, she pulls out her notes and glances at the computer screen before pointing out where more clarification is needed. For the next thirty minutes, we meticulously move through the body of the paper. Mia has been helping me to edit when she has time, so it’s not a total mess. As we work side-by-side, my muscles loosen. Other than our bodies pressed close, she hasn’t done anything else to make me feel uncomfortable.
It’s a relief to realize that Mia was right. I’m an idiot for thinking this woman was coming on to me.
Dr. Hayes wraps up her critique by saying, “Keep working and we’ll meet up again next week to check your progress. If you follow the suggestions I’ve made, there’s no reason you can’t get an A on this paper, and frankly, in this class.”
An A?
Pigs flying out of my ass seems more likely than that. I’ve never received an A on a paper in my life. Sometimes it was all I could do to eek out a B.