I closed my eyes for a second and took a long, deep breath. Silently, I prayed for the day when I would love Chance a little less.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chance
I was so lost in thought that I gave a start of surprise when my office door flew open and Lindsey walked in without so much as a knock. She closed the door behind her and sat down in the chair opposite me. She was wearing the standard white shirt and pencil skirt, and she had tied back blonde hair in a ponytail. Immediately, I was reminded of Natalie.
“Hi,” she greeted.
I raised my eyebrows. “Don’t you knock?”
“Would you like me to go back out and knock for you?” she asked, matching my tone.
I smirked half-heartedly. “That’s okay. What brings you here today?”
“You don’t look so good today,” she said. “I’m just curious…and concerned.”
“Concerned?”
“Of course,” Lindsey nodded. “We’re friends. Aren’t we?”
“I suppose we are.”
“Which means you can trust me,” she pointed out. “Come on; you can tell me what’s going on with you. Especially since the faculty noticed too.”
I looked up in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“Professor Keeling mentioned that you looked lovesick today at lunch,” Lindsey said, without mincing her words. “And Professor Sarandon agreed. Of course, neither one suspected that you were involved with a student.”
“Oh… Well, that’s something.”
“Are they right?”
“Huh?”
“Are they right?” she repeated. “Are you lovesick?”
I hesitated for only a moment, but Lindsey jumped on the pause. “Your fling with the cute brunette is over?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “It ended last night.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “I warned you that these sorts of relationships never really last. It was only a matter of time, really.”
“You did.”
“How about I make you feel better?”
“How do you propose to do that?”
Lindsey leaned towards me a little and gave me a suggestive smile. “It involves heavy petting.”
I turned my face away from her. “No thanks,” I said, as politely as possible.
“Wow… That bad, huh?”
“It’s fine,” I said defensively, but I could tell from Lindsey’s expression that she didn’t believe me in the slightest.
She was looking at me carefully, and I could tell from her expression that she was studying my face, as though my thoughts could be read across it. “What?” I demanded politely.