We sleep in late the next morning. I miss a meeting and she misses a class, but neither of us care.

She sits at my kitchen island, back straight, hair messy, wearing one of my old sweatshirts. “For some reason, I’m not tired,” she says to me.

I put a mug of coffee down in front of her. “Oh, yeah?”

“I mean, we slept for, what, four hours?”

“Maybe,” I say, laughing. I pour myself some coffee. “Although, probably less.”

“I’m still not too tired at all.”

I grin. “I’m exhausted.”

“Liar. You look positively refreshed.”

I laugh again. She’s right, though. I feel strangely rejuvenated, even though I should be totally exhausted. I haven’t had a night like that in a long time, where sex turns into more sex and the night slips past in a frenzy of wet sheets and fucking bodies.

But now, here she is, sitting in my kitchen like it’s totally normal.

And strangely, it is normal. At least as normal as things can be right now.

I make her some breakfast. She eats pancakes while I stick to coffee. I don’t want her to leave, but I know she has to eventually. Right now, though, we’re pretending like we’re normal, like we’re a real couple.

Well, we are a real couple, aren’t we? I mean, we could be, if we wanted to.

Except there are three professors that know we’re together, and I’m going to have to buy their silence…

Nothing normal about that.

I hate that I have to play this game with her. I hate that I have to hide her, worry about her, bribe people because of her. I know she hates it too.

I just don’t know how else we can exist in this space. I wish we could disappear, live on some island somewhere, a place where nobody cares who we are.

It’s an immature dream, I know. It’s stupid, it’s wishful thinking. I’m not the kind of man that indulges in this sort of thing.

And yet, watching her eat, I can’t help myself.

I wonder what it would be like to escape the world together.

Last night, in bed, I got a taste of it. I got a taste of the bliss that would be just the two of us, alone, exploring each other, getting what we need.

Now, though, in the morning…

It’s like that dream’s evaporating while I try to hang on to the memory.

“What?”

I blink, cock my head. “Sorry?”

“You’re staring at me,” Clara says, mouth full of pancakes.

I grin. “Can’t help myself, I guess. You look cute with bedhead.”

She blushes a little. “Shut up, asshole.”

“I’m just saying, it suits you. Messy hair, my sweatshirt…”

“I’m sure I look great.”

“You’d only look better if you weren’t wearing that sweatshirt.”

She smiles and rolls her eyes but I know she likes it. I laugh and kiss her.

She kisses me back. “You’re such a nerd, you know that?”

I sigh, shaking my head. “We already established that I’m the cool one.”

“I think we established the opposite.”

She kisses me and I’m about to reach my hands up that baggy sweatshirt, tease her breasts, maybe make that dream last a little longer…

When there’s a loud knock at the door.

We freeze together, both of us surprised.

“Delivery?” she asks after a beat.

“No,” I say, frowning. “Stay here.”

I walk past her. I’m wearing a pair of sweats and a long-sleeve t-shirt. I don’t know who’s at the door, but I feel like I have to check.

I look out the peephole. Howard is standing there on my stoop, practically hopping from foot to foot with nervous energy.

Howard. Fucking Howard, the intern, Clara’s peer. He was my meeting from this morning.

How did he fucking find my address?

I turn back and hurry to Clara. “It’s Howard,” I say as he knocks again.

“Howard?” She looks confused. “Here?”

“I know. Just, head upstairs. I’ll get rid of him.”

She bites her lip but she pads up the steps dutifully. I watch her go, her ass peeking out from under the sweatshirt.

I turn back to the door, fucking pissed off now. He knocks again and I pull it open as he finishes.

“Howard,” I say firmly.

He grins at me. “Professor, I’m sorry to bother you. We had a meeting, a couple of hours ago, I thought maybe—”

“Howard,” I repeat. “How did you get my address?”

The question clearly makes him falter. He hesitates, stuttering. “Ah, uh, I just got it, you know. From the, uh, school.”

“Howard,” I say.

“I hacked the university’s payroll,” he admits.

I sigh. “You idiot.”

“It’s okay. They’re actually pretty awful. They won’t catch me.”

“That’s stupid anyway.” I frown at him, although inwardly I’m somewhat impressed. I didn’t know he had the balls, let alone the skill, for something like that.

“I know, I’m sorry. But when you didn’t show up, I got worried, and…” He trails off, takes a deep breath. “I have this idea. It’s a new backward implementation of the database code structures, starting from the rendering base and moving outward, it’ll save…”

“Howard,” I say, cutting him off. I could tell he was about to ramble on, and although his idea sounds promising, I have Clara waiting for me. “This isn’t the time.”

He blinks and suddenly sees me for the first time. “Uh. Sorry. Are you sick?”

I hesitate, annoyed. “Yes,” I say. “I’m not feeling well. I should’ve emailed you, which I’m sorry about. But please, we can talk about this later.”

“Right. Of course. I’m just saying, it’s this great idea, and I think—”

“Howard,” I say again. “Later. Okay?”

He nods and backs away. “Sorry, Professor. Sorry. I just, I got excited. I hope you feel better.”

He turns and walks quickly away. I watch as he moves down onto the sidewalk and hurries back in the direction of campus.

I close the door, shaking my head.

What the fuck was that?

The kid is clearly excited about his idea. But coming to my house was a stupid idea. I’d be pissed whether Clara were here or not. The fact that she is, and Howard just ruined my fucking good mood, only makes it worse.

“Clara?” I call out, standing at the bottom of the steps. “He’s gone. Come back down.”

She appears a moment later, fully dressed. I feel my heart drop.

“I should get going,” she says, coming down toward me.

“You don’t need to go just yet.”

“I really should.” She frowns, looking at her phone. “Mac texted me like ten times, and I should—”

“Mac?”

“The girl I live with. I really should get going.”

“Okay,” I say, nodding.

She hesitates at the door. “Why was he here?” she asks me suddenly.

I shake my head. “Who cares?” I ask her.

“I’m curious.”

“He has some idea about backwards implementation. I was only half listening.”

She bites her lip. “Howard is… smart.”

“I know.”

“He’s also an asshole.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” She hesitates again, looking awkward. “Well. Thanks, uh, for the breakfast.”

I grin at her. “Thanks for the sex.”

She blushes. I pull her against me and kiss her. I don’t care if she’s feeling awkward or not.

She returns my kiss and the ice breaks between us. “I’ll see you later,” she says softly.

“Yeah, you will.”

She leaves my house. I linger in the doorway, watching her go.

I shut the door behind me, frowning slightly. Fucking hell. Howard ruined the spell, and clearly it bothered her that he showed up.

Still, he’s a smart guy. He’s good at what he does. He’s a dick to Clara, but I need guys like him if I’m going to make my project succeed.

I’m torn. I want to get rid of Howard, since clearly Clara doesn’t like him. But I need good ideas and smart people.

I sigh and turn back inside. I’ll work this problem out. Maybe I can get Howard to leave her alone, because at the end of the day, I need Clara more than I need him.