Chapter Six
Footsteps came from outside the door, rapidly approaching. Another student to see Blake? She wasn’t sure, but she had taken up enough of his time.
“I’ll get going,” she said with a small smile.
He groaned. “It’s going to kill me being so close to you, knowing you’re on the same campus, maybe even in the same building, but not able to touch you.”
She grinned. “Maybe I can visit you in office hours. Not too often, mind you, but I’m sure you have a few more lessons to teach me.”
He laughed, and she would have laughed with him, except she was too stunned by the sight of him happy with abandon. So distracted that she only barely registered the turning of the office doorknob.
The door slammed open, rattling the bookshelf and sending dust into the air. She coughed, taking in the woman who stood in the doorway. Even if another student had come, Erin would have expected her to wait outside, as she had done, or at least to knock. But now she saw this was no student. The woman was older, dressed in a sleek suit jacket and pencil skirt. Her hair was a coppery red, pale enough to border on strawberry blonde. Her skin had the translucence of a natural redhead peppered with freckles.
And Erin knew her.
“Professor Jenkins,” she said in surprise.
Professor Jenkins turned to her. “Erin. What are you doing here?”
God, what was she doing here? Her fingers flipping through Blake’s personal notebook stash. Her clothes—thankfully back in place but still rumpled.
“Cleaning,” she said.
Professor Jenkins blinked once, then twice. She spoke to Blake. “You have a maid for your office?”
Admittedly it was a bit strange, considering the room was smaller than the average bedroom. But Blake was smart—he caught on quickly. Benefit of sleeping with a Rhodes Scholar, she supposed.
“Erin cleans my house,” he answered. “I asked her to come by today. The office was a mess when I got here.”
Hah! And he didn’t even technically lie.
Professor Jenkins’s cool green eyes gave Erin a quick appraisal. Disheveled hair from their lovemaking, plain jeans and a T-shirt—standard fare for a student, but there were no designer labels here. Just as fast, the woman lost interest in her, her expression making Erin’s lack of appeal clear.
The maid. The hired help. Nobody at all.
Once again, she was dismissed for what she did to pay the bills. Erin was used to it among the other students at the private university. No one was gauche enough to say anything about it. Her old boyfriend had always paid for her, but everyone knew it was more than chivalry. She couldn’t afford the fifty dollar shots of sake or bottles of champagne they liked to order. Eventually she’d found different friends. Other scholarship kids or ones who had the money but didn’t flaunt it, like her roommate. But Erin never forgot how out of place she’d felt, how little.
Maybe she’d been naïve, but she’d expected more from a respected professor. Out in the world, Erin was a hard worker, someone who paid her bills on time, in full. But in this private university, where her tuition was covered half on scholarship and half on loans, she was just a charity case.
Professor Jenkins turned to Blake. “Well, then,” she said brightly. “I’m glad you’re taking your new position here seriously.”
Before Erin could process the sweet, almost personal tone, the woman stepped closer to Blake. The office was small, so perhaps the close quarters could be explained that way. But it didn’t feel like it. As if dismissing Erin from sight and from mind, as if Erin were as deaf and dumb as the file cabinet, the woman spoke intimately.
“Lord knows I tried to get you to come back here after the explosion. You wouldn’t budge.”
“It had been a week,” he said dryly.
“Well, the important thing is that you’re here, and things can go back to the way they were.”
Erin stared, giving up any pretense that she was cleaning, that she wasn’t watching. She finally put her finger on what she sensed from Professor Jenkins: possession. It was the same way Erin looked at Blake, like she knew him so well, like she owned some part of him intrinsically.
If she’d had her doubts, the dark expression on Blake’s face sealed the deal. He and Professor Jenkins had definitely been lovers, she just knew it. Maybe more, maybe committed.
Which shouldn’t matter but somehow did. Erin trusted Blake, and they were together now. He wasn’t about to cheat on her the second her back was turned…or when she was right there in the room.
But then again, they weren’t allowed to tell anyone they were together. And though she tried so hard not to think about it…it was pretty close to what had happened to her before. Feeling shoved aside, being pushed out the door when she’d thought things were perfect.
“That was a long time ago, Melinda,” he said softly.
She hesitated, then laughed. “We were both young and stupid then. Things have changed.”
He shook his head. His smile was more of a grimace. “Not that much.”
A small sound escaped Erin.
Professor Jenkins looked over, as if just noticing she was still here. “Maybe you can finish up here another time. I need to have a private talk with Dr. Morris.”
“No, Melinda,” he said, sliding past her to open the door. “We don’t need to have a private talk, and she doesn’t have to go.”
He was going to tell her, Erin realized. Whether he said the words or not, he’d give it away. And somehow she knew that Melinda Jenkins was just vindictive enough to use it against him…and her. He needed this job to return to the world, to become part of it again. She needed to complete her final research paper and get it approved by the board.
“No, that’s okay,” she said quickly. “I have a class soon anyway. I’ll just go.”
He scowled, clearly ready to countermand her, so she grabbed her backpack and stumbled out the door before he could stop her. Melinda’s shrill laugh followed her down the hallway.
Erin sped up, the tiles under her feet blurring from her pace and the tears glazing her eyes.
Damn it.
She truly hadn’t wanted him to follow her, but…well, part of her did want that. Wanted him to tell everyone they were together and that he cared about her, not Melinda. But that would have ruined everything for both of them, so she was happy he’d let her go.
If only she could believe that.
She just felt so pushed aside, almost used, even though she didn’t have a reason to be, not really. Blake hadn’t done anything wrong, and neither had Professor Jenkins. Erin was the third wheel, the young, poor college student who had seduced him.
When was the last time he’d seen another woman before he and Erin had hooked up? And she had paraded around his house twice a week, fawning over him with a ridiculous crush. No wonder he’d given in and had sex with her.
That didn’t mean he’d want to continue. It didn’t mean he should.
Maybe he was better off with someone like Melinda. She could help establish him in the real world better with his colleagues at the university. She had the financial means to match him, the right image to stand beside him. He wouldn’t have to hide his relationship with her. Would they also have noontime sex in his office?
It made Erin want to throw something.
She waited around the corner in the hallway. Once Professor Jenkins left his office, Erin could clear the air with Blake. There would be a simple explanation. He would reassure her. It played out in her head so neatly. But they had retreated into his office and closed the door.
Her phone vibrated from the front pocket of her backpack. She pulled it out to see her mother’s smiling face on the small, dim screen. Her stomach dropped. With a lingering glance at Blake’s office door, she pushed through the doors leading outside, blinking as the sun blinded her.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Are you okay?” The worry in her mother’s voice made guilt pool in her belly. She usually called once a week, sometimes more. But ever since she’d started seeing Blake, it had gotten harder to talk to her mother and still keep her secret.
“I’m fine. Of course I’m fine.”
“I know you’re busy, honey. I just worry.”
She knew exactly the moment when her mother had lost all faith in Erin’s ability to judge people or make it on her own. Erin knew because she doubted herself too.
A change of subject was in order. “School’s starting next week. One more semester.”
She heard the smile in her mother’s voice. “I’m thrilled for you, sweetie. You deserve this. What are you doing now, working?”
“No, I’m on campus.” Where I just got done having sex with a professor. That would not ease her mother’s worries. Pointing out that it was a relationship would only make things worse, not better. And now that Erin had time to reflect, she realized how impulsive she had been to do so. A very bad idea with a thankfully happy ending.
It was just…she’d never had much opportunity to be spontaneous and silly. She worked, she went to school. She wasn’t complaining. Her mom had it harder, after all. But for the first time in her years at the university, Erin had felt young.
“I met with my advisor this morning,” Erin continued. At least that much was true. Her visit to campus hadn’t been solely a booty call. “We went over some of the requirements for my final paper. I’m going to work on my outline tonight.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great, sweetie.”
Erin winced. Such faith, and here she was trying to have fun. This wasn’t a game. “How are you, Mom? Work going okay?”
“Oh, you know. Work’s work.”
She sensed the hesitation. “Something’s wrong. Tell me.”
Her mother laughed. “I never could hide much from you. Just my knees acting up.”
“You need to go to the—”
“To the doctor. I went. He wants me to have surgery.”
Erin stopped in her tracks. The crowd of people sluiced around her as she stood in the middle of the sidewalk. If her mom had actually visited the doctor without being cajoled and forced into it, she must be in a lot of pain. “Surgery?”
“It doesn’t matter. You know I can’t afford it.”
“They don’t have any sort of programs or something, for low-income patients? A payment program?”
“I don’t know, but I couldn’t do it anyway. The surgery will make it so I can’t do hard labor for four weeks. I can’t take off work that long.”
Erin closed her eyes. “Mom, if he says you need the surgery, we’ll find a way.”
“No, I’ll figure it out, Erin. You don’t worry about me. Focus on school.”
Focus on school, and not an illicit relationship with a man way out of her league. Yeah, that was a fair request. Only she wasn’t sure she could actually follow it. Leave Blake? Chills raced through her body. Wrong, all wrong.
“I will, mom. One more semester.”
“One more semester and you’ll never have to clean houses for a living. You’ll never have to deal with this kind of problem, of not being to afford your surgery or take time off to have it. That’s all I want for you, kiddo. All I’ve ever wanted for you.”
Her heart squeezed. “I know.”
“That’s my girl.”
“You and me against the world,” she said dutifully, as she always had since she was a kid. It was their thing. A secret club with just the two of them. At one time it had been a comfort.
Her mother’s goodbyes were happy and heartfelt as they hung up, but Erin felt stricken. Did it really come down to choosing between school and Blake? After all, when she eventually had a career, she’d have to juggle them, so she might as well learn to do it now. She laughed humorlessly. Although maybe Blake would take the decision out of her hands. He might decide to rekindle what he had with Professor Jenkins. Then Erin’s problems would go away…
Ah, but they wouldn’t. She loved him, simple as that. And it superseded so much. She wasn’t willing to sacrifice her degree for that love, or her future, but she’d give up her pride. It wasn’t worth much anyway.
* * *
A low growl emanated from Blake as he watched Erin turn the corner away from him. Their sexual encounter had been mind-blowing, more than he’d ever expected or hoped for, so much that his usual sense of foreboding had abandoned him completely, but it had all come crashing down.
Because of Melinda.
She was still here, coming up behind him, giving that trill laugh he’d once thought endearing. Fuck, he should have handled that better. Should have handled her better. He’d been so damned surprised. Bowled over by the orgasm, by the shock of seeing that woman after so long. And her innuendo that they might rekindle their relationship. Shit. No way in hell, and he’d been ready to tell her that.
He’d been ready to throw the position away. What did he need this job for anyway? He had already turned it down once. It wasn’t worth upsetting Erin, and it sure as hell wasn’t worth losing her. So he’d been about to tell Melinda exactly who Erin was, but maybe it was best that she’d interrupted him.
Erin was more than his lover; she’d been his ray of light in a dank, dark place. He wasn’t even sure she knew how much he had relied on her presence, looked forward to her visits. If he told her, she might run.
Hell, he thought with a sinking feeling, she’d already run. Down the hallway might as well be to the moon for all he could talk to her now, with Melinda breathing down his neck and a meeting with the dean in twenty minutes.
Frustrated, he turned and brushed past Melinda. His palms were sweaty, his heartbeat erratic, and it wasn’t just the great sex or awkward encounter. The students outside his office sounded like a herd of elephants, their voices augmenting one another and bouncing off the white-bright walls until his head pounded. He’d thought he was over these damn flashbacks, but it turned out he’d been avoiding them, staying home where no one ever came. Now he was immersed in people and drowning, suffocating.
Melinda followed him inside, propping a hip on the edge of his desk. “What was all that about?” She smirked. “I think she might have a little crush. Did you see the way she was looking at you?”
Jesus, he needed to end this. “Probably the way everyone looks at me. Like my face is messed up.”
“The way they used to look at you. You were the handsomest man on campus then. And when you wore your uniform? None of the girls could keep their eyes off you back then.”
“Stop,” he said dryly. “You’ll flatter me.”
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re offended. If there’s one thing we’ve had between us, it’s honesty. Your face is not handsome anymore. I can live with the scarring.”
“Funny, that’s not how I remember it.”
Melinda gave him a small smile, a pout that he assumed was contrite. “You have to admit it was a lot to handle.”
Long-buried frustration surfaced. “Which part, Melinda? Because I didn’t ask you for a damn thing before you walked out my door for the last time.”
His bandages hadn’t even come off yet. “It just isn’t going to work out between us,” she’d said, but inside he’d heard, you’re hideous, you’re disgusting.
Over time his anger at her had dissipated, because he was hideous. He was disgusting. And he’d been stuck in that place for a full year, swinging back and forth between waking depression and haunting dreams of his time overseas, of a blast that had shredded his life to ugly, misshapen pieces.
Then one day, he’d woken up amid pizza boxes and soda cans and realized that if he were going to keep on living—and since he hadn’t died yet, he supposed he was—then he could at least live cleanly. So he’d pulled up the local job board and posted a message. Erin had replied and… Ah, Erin.
She had been a shot of healing heat in a bleak winter. Slowly he had improved himself, each day becoming a little stronger, coming back into his old self when he hadn’t thought it was possible.
Melinda circled the desk, coming to stand beside him. Some unknown curiosity had him letting her. Was anything left, any of the love and devotion he’d once felt for her? It seemed hard to believe he could have spent the rest of his life with her…when now he felt nothing. Like looking at a stranger smile at him, like feeling the cool back of her palm touch the unmarred side of his face, the part that was normal.
He moved her hand from his face. “We’re done, Melinda. You made that clear once.”
“I was young,” she said softly. “I thought appearances mattered.”
He laughed bitterly. She was only a year younger than him, and if he wasn’t mistaken, her dress suit was still designer. Her shoes probably cost five hundred dollars. “And I suppose now you’re interested in what’s on the inside, right? Or is it just my bank account you want back?”
She jerked her head back as if slapped. “That was low, Blake.”
“Maybe.” He sighed. “Yeah, it was. I shouldn’t have said that. But this ends right here. I don’t want you to come to my office unless you have school business to discuss.”
A smile curved her lips. “You have yourself a deal.”
She left, seeming entirely too pleased with herself. Probably plotting, if he knew her well, but he could handle her if she tried anything. He sat back, trying to focus. He was glad things had been squared away with Melinda. Maybe some closure there was a good thing. And he would fix things with Erin tonight when she came over.
So he wondered why it felt as if the small amount of ground he’d covered was crumbling beneath his feet.