Chapter Fifteen
Erin stretched. Her muscles felt rung out and used well.
She turned her head, facing her lover with a lazy smile. Blake had his eyes closed, arm slung over his face. He grew less bold in the aftermath, as if she might find his scars ugly without the haze of arousal to soften him. He had also maneuvered them so that she saw his unmarred side. He did that constantly, so smoothly she hardly noticed until after. She wasn’t sure he even knew he did it. The burned skin was only a glimpse on the opposite cheek. Shiny tissue. White and pink that didn’t tan to bronze with the rest of his skin.
She wished she could tell him it didn’t matter. But that wasn’t really true. How many people wore the darkest part of them on their faces? What a different world it would be if we walked around with signs that proclaimed the worst thing that had happened to us.
For her mother, it would be whatever had happened in the house where she’d worked as a maid and then suddenly hadn’t anymore. For Erin, it would be when her boyfriend had taken her to meet his parents and they realized his father had been the one to hurt her mother. When her boyfriend had called later with that bullshit story about her mom stealing from them, sure that his father was innocent of any wrongdoing. When he’d left her to find her own ride back to campus and when she’d seen him walking between buildings with another girl on his arm. Broken spirit, her mother’s sign would say. Broken heart for Erin.
Broken body for Blake.
Put that way, she felt lucky. Everyone had pain in their pasts. Some had it worse than others, but no one was untouched. The difference was that Blake was introduced that way. The rest of them had their smooth-skinned shells to hide behind.
He turned to face her, exposing himself. She looked into his eyes and felt herself fall into them—the contentment there and the shame.
“What are you thinking about?” he murmured.
She almost smiled at the echo of his earlier words. During sex he’d asked that question. And her answer was the same, in essence. “About you.”
He raised a brow. “Anything in particular?”
She studied the smooth bronze of his skin, the mottled pink. The courage with which he faced each day, holding that damned sign up, his head held high.
“How beautiful you are.”
Something flickered in his eyes. “That’s cruel,” he said mildly.
She flinched. “I mean it. You’re beautiful to me.”
He faced the ceiling again. “Fuck, Erin. I never asked you to lie to me.”
She propped herself on her elbow. “Why do you think I have sex with you if I don’t find you attractive?”
“Pity?” he said, so cavalierly she knew he was baiting her.
And it worked, damn him. “Then why do you have sex with me?” she challenged.
He was still a moment. His expression impassive, he turned his head and gave her a long, slow perusal from her wild, disheveled hair down her naked body to where her toes were tucked under the sheet. He caressed her breast, running his thumb down the side, the rough pad of his finger like fine sandpaper on her sensitive skin.
His hand remained on her breast, a soft weight, a link between them as he looked her in the eye. “I love you, Erin. I’m not sure it’s enough. In fact, I know it’s not, but I can’t keep myself away from you. It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
She swallowed thickly. For someone declaring his love and her beauty, he didn’t seem happy about it. “Is it a problem?”
He smiled slightly. His voice was hoarse. “No. Not right now.”
A chill climbed up her spine. Only then could she see the risk he’d taken, teaching a class where she would be a student. At first he’d resisted because he didn’t want to rejoin society, didn’t want to work again and walk among the living, preferring the sanctuary he had made for himself in this house.
They would make it work with him as her professor, limiting the moral dilemma as best they could. She would do her best, which usually earned her an A or the rare B. Both were commonly the only grades given in the small advanced master’s courses, the idea being that all the C and D students had been weeded out by then anyway. But he would grade her fairly, regardless. He was too honorable to do anything else.
More than the potential for conflict between them, what if they were found out? Would there be some sort of inquisition? Would he be fired with a scandal on his virtual resume? Of course no one would find out. And she wouldn’t let the grade come between them, whatever it ended up being. But there was an awful lot of room for error in this plan. He must have known that, and he’d accepted it without complaint.
For her.
“Let’s keep it that way,” she said, brushing back the hair from his forehead. She pet him, her large, sedated cat, until his eyes stayed shut and his breathing evened out. He slept, but she continued to caress him, needing the contact.
How could she have been so reckless with him—with his career and his life? And how had he let her do that? Though he wasn’t confrontational by nature, preferring diplomacy to a direct conflict, he knew how to stand up to people. It was how he’d isolated himself so completely, how he’d avoided getting sucked back into the world despite repeated calls from the Dean, from his parents. He’d laid down the facts with Melinda, threatening to call the police if she pulled any more stunts here. But she’d simply asked him, here, do this thing, and he’d nodded and done it. A heady sort of power, but one she could misuse by accident if she wasn’t careful.
* * *
This morning had been another great class. The group had loosened up over the weeks, with the other students holding active discussions that sometimes spilled out into the hallway after class. Then Erin had spent the early afternoon in a small café right off campus, where she’d enjoyed a strawberry drink with tapioca pearls while going over her notes.
She packed up her books and headed back to the department offices. She had a standing weekly appointment with her advisor, Dr. Miller, to go over her progress and get feedback. The day was uncommonly warm. Sunlight winked at her from around the spires and cornices of the elaborate old buildings.
Her eyes were narrowed and downcast to avoid the bright light. She pushed through the double doors, blinking at the sudden dimness.
“There you are, Erin,” a voice said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
At first she couldn’t place it, but the sinking feeling was answer enough. Her vision cleared. Melinda was smiling at her. It wasn’t a nice smile.
“Dr. Jenkins,” she said in greeting, hoping the dismay didn’t come through.
“Come into my office and we can talk.”
“Oh. Well, I have a meeting with—”
“Not for a few minutes, right? You’re always early. You can spare a few minutes for me.”
She did have a few minutes until her meeting started, which she normally spent on the bench in the hallway, and Melinda seemed to know that. She didn’t want to talk to her right now, especially blindsided like this. But she wasn’t willing to make the leap to insubordination. And Melinda was technically on the committee. She followed the other woman down the hall and into her office.
When Erin was inside, Melinda shut the door. Erin hid her grimace. She supposed it would be a long talk then. She sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk, and Melinda crossed the room to take her seat.
“Now,” Melinda said. “I took the liberty of looking at your transcript. Very impressive.”
“Thank you.”
“Especially for someone with your background. I really respect that.” Melinda’s tone made it clear she meant the exact opposite.
Erin gritted her teeth. How would the woman even know about her background? She’d been doing more digging than just her transcript.
Melinda continued. “I’m concerned about this. About you.”
“What about me?”
“This idea you have about getting your master’s degree. You realize it’s not necessary for many positions.”
No doubt she expected Erin to be a secretary. “I understand, but I want to do this.” Not to mention she was already two years in and inches away from the finish line. “I believe it will help me achieve my long-term goals.”
“Hmm. I’ve also had a look at your financial records. That’s a large amount of debt, the loans that cover what the scholarship didn’t. Is that really something you want to saddle yourself with so early in your career? You’re very young.”
Erin blinked. “Well, with all due respect, I’ve already taken on the debt. It’s not something I could undo even if I wanted to, at this point.”
“Really?” A thin, well-shaped eyebrow arched. “There are ways that pretty students sometimes relieve themselves of such a burden. A rich benefactor, for example.”
Shock ran through her. Had Melinda really just alluded to Blake…as a benefactor? “I’m not… That’s not what I’m doing.”
“No? Well, what are you doing then?” Melinda opened a manila folder on her desk. “Here, for example. Bent over his couch.”
She flushed hot and then cold. Oh God. Her heart in her throat, she inched forward in the seat and peered over the desk. Sure enough, there she was. The image was taken through both blinds and curtains, revealing a naked woman in a most compromising position.
“How dare you?” she breathed.
“How dare I, Erin? No. How dare you sleep around with a professor just to make your grade. I saw that you have an A in his class right now.”
“I earned that.”
“The same way you earned A’s in your other classes?”
“The exact same way. With my academic work.”
“I suppose the rest is just extra credit.” When Erin didn’t answer, Melinda continued. “I can’t fault you for trying. You get a good grade and land a hefty bank account to wipe out this debt. You’re clearly a smart girl to get this far.”
Horribly, she felt tears smart her eyes. She took a deep breath and forced them back.
“But now you can understand why I’m so worried about you. It’s my responsibility to look out for the students…and to report immoral behavior by our staff.”
“He didn’t do anything.”
She picked up the photograph and squinted. “Can he not get it up anymore? I wondered about that, after the accident. It does seem like a waste to have you all spread out and—”
“Just stop.” Her stomach rolled. She was going to be sick.
“Look, I don’t want to tell anyone. Realistically, the consequences will be more severe for him than for you. You’ll maybe have to stay another semester and retake that class. But him? Everyone would know. What little life he has left right now would be ruined.”
“What do you want?” she bit out.
“I don’t think Professor Morris needs to hear from you outside class again, don’t you think? Surely he has better things to do with his time.”
Like you? she wanted to ask. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t funny. The joke was on her. Because Blake really could do anything and anyone. Whereas she was held hostage in this goddamned office. Whereas she had made all these goddamned plans to be successful and rich so that no one could push her around, yet here she was. Being pushed around. Weak. Helpless.
Melinda kept talking, but Erin could no longer hear her. She had mentally checked out, and besides, she already knew the gist of the message. Go away. You’re not wanted. You’re not good enough. The rushing sound in her ears was the same as when she’d been at her boyfriend’s house. When his parents had cut her down over the soup course and told her she wasn’t good enough then either.
After, she stumbled down the hall into her advisor’s office.
Dr. Miller frowned at her. “Is everything okay? You’re usually so punctual.”
She just shook her head, at a loss. Relief washed through her when he took his seat behind his desk. Maybe she could go through the motions and make it through this meeting.
“I’ve got to be honest with you, Erin. We’ve talked about your work in-depth, and you know I’m very impressed. But I’ve also discussed it with one of the committee members and they’ve brought up some concerns…”
Oh God. She was completely sure who that committee member was. She fumbled through the questions, on the defensive as she countered multiple arguments against her work. Some of them were legitimate concerns, weaknesses that she’d already addressed or had noted to revisit. Others were bogus, but she wasn’t sure she was making a good case for herself anyway.
This wasn’t the actual defense in front of the committee, but how much worse would that be? Dr. Miller already thought she was smart, that much was clear from the way he spoke to her. As if he was truly curious about her answers. It wouldn’t be that way in front of the committee, with Melinda there. Who knew how far she’d gone to shore up support with the other committee members either? At the end of the two hours, an hour longer than they usually met, the best thing she could say about it was that she hadn’t thrown up.
He took off his glasses. “There’s one last thing. I really shouldn’t even tell you this, but I like you, Erin. I think you have promise. So I’m making an exception. There’s also been an accusation of plagiarism.”
The air felt too thin. She was dizzy from it, nauseous. “What?”
“It hasn’t been substantiated, and nothing will happen unless it is. But if there’s anything you want to tell me, now’s the time.”
Oh God, this was a nightmare. A true nightmare. “No. I came up with this, all of it. The only references I used are listed here.”
He studied her for long minutes. Finally he nodded. “Then there shouldn’t be a problem. I must admit, I was skeptical that you would do such a thing.”
“I would never.”
“No.” He seemed thoughtful. “I don’t think you would.”
“Please, what’s going to happen?”
“Quite frankly, if this situation is what I think it is, nothing. The only way the committee would act is if there’s clear proof. Generally that is provided at the time the accusation is made.”
But not this time, she understood. She managed to take her leave without completely falling to pieces and embarrassing herself. Two buildings away, she found Blake’s door. The frosted window etched with his name was dark, the office empty. Relief was cold and tight in her belly. At least she could be alone for this. She sat down on the chair outside his office, the same one where she’d waited for him those weeks ago. Then she’d met him inside. Now she scribbled a note.
Can’t do this anymore. Too risky. I’m sorry. – E
Other words wanted to be written. Love you, miss you. Help me. But she didn’t dare. The break needed to be clean, or she risked Melinda’s wrath. And maybe this was for the best. It was Blake’s reputation. His career. And hers. Their love wasn’t worth risking those things, was it? She didn’t know. Ironically, she wished she could talk it out with Blake. He always seemed to know what to do, always had the answers.
No, she needed to stand on her own. She couldn’t protect him from his painful past. She couldn’t protect him from an uphill future. But she could do this, now.
It was her own fault. That thought remained forefront in her mind, from the moment she’d realized Melinda knew the truth—no, before that. When Melinda had approached him and he hadn’t been free to accept. He’d already been embroiled with Erin. What a nasty word, embroiled. Like a torrid affair, but that was what they had. A secret, forbidden relationship. And now? They had nothing.
She drove home on autopilot where she found her roommate still awake watching House reruns. Courtney held her while she cried and told her in halting, broken breaths what had happened.
Losing Blake… God, he was so much to her. Everything to her. But if he were found out now, shunned and ridiculed after so recently venturing out, he might never try again. He might never recover. And her own career, professional and otherwise, hung in the balance.
“Did I do the right thing?” Erin whispered.
Courtney’s eyes were filled with sympathy. “Of course you did. There’s a reason they don’t allow those relationships. They just…don’t work out.”
Ah, the voice of rationality. Not entirely welcome at a time like this. She could hear Blake’s rational voice too. His story about the Roman advisor who gave two hollow warnings to the Carthaginians before letting his true intentions show. He had never meant to leave them in peace. It had always, always been war.
Grimly, she acknowledged that the Romans had been so blithely aggressive because they could be. They held all the power, and so did Melinda. She made her fake ploy of being concerned about Erin and then called her a prostitute. And Erin had sat there and taken it. That was what she hated most of all. If she was going to go down, at least she could have put up a fight.