Chapter 6

It was a bold move. He’d give Dr. Price that much. But the fact that she’d felt the need to observe one of his classes only gave him more confidence. She was worried. Of that, he was certain. She might put on a brave face when she was in his presence, but behind the confident facade existed a woman who knew she’d be hard-pressed to win the Distinguished Professor Award over him.

He couldn’t blame her. Between the two of them, he had more experience and had been at Hainamor longer, though not so much longer that it would be likely to sway the committee as much as he would’ve liked. Naomi also had a higher degree than he did, which might work in her favor. While she’d chosen a PhD in English Literature and written her dissertation on poetry, he’d opted for a Master’s in Fine Arts in Creative Writing—the highest degree in the field—since he had no desire to get a doctorate in anything other than writing. So while it meant that he had an extensive knowledge of the craft, he did not have the title. Though Dr. Sebastian Blake had a nicer ring to it than Dr. Naomi Price.

Sebastian wound up his laptop cord and placed it in the side pocket of his computer bag. Then he erased the whiteboard and put his black marker back in the bag as well before lifting it onto his shoulder. As he ascended the carpeted stairs in the small lecture hall and made his way toward the back door, he was thankful he didn’t have to walk across campus. Having all of his classes in this building certainly helped, though not as much as he wished it did. He adjusted his weight to his better leg and tried not to wince.

The rain and shift to colder weather always seemed to turn a perpetual discomfort into a sharp pain that made him jolt at its sudden presence. He’d be smart to listen to Dr. Thorpe and take whatever the doctor had prescribed, but he’d never considered it, let alone actually taken any medication. The fact that he’d even picked the damn pills up from the pharmacy made him wonder if he was losing his willpower. He’d throw them out as soon as he got home. Because the only thing worse than suffering every day was not suffering at all.

The thought of suffering brought his mind back around to Naomi. Sometimes Sebastian wondered what it said about him that he couldn’t find it in himself to be nice to the woman. Not that Sebastian had a habit of being nice to much of anyone, but he was at least cordial with his other colleagues. But Naomi had rubbed him the wrong way from the very first time she’d walked into his cubicle in her blue button-down shirt that accentuated her fit frame, and her gray knee-length skirt that hugged her hips. She looked professional—she always did. But there was also an appeal there that made Sebastian want to lash out at her.

And the more time they spent together, the more Sebastian found himself watching her out of the corner of his eye and the more irritated he became. Part of him liked having her around, which made another part of him, the part dedicated to being faithful to something he no longer had, push her away at every turn.

Sebastian always had objectively noticed when he found women attractive. He was a heterosexual man with eyes and a healthy libido. But Naomi wasn’t simply objectively attractive. The entire package that made up Naomi Price made him feel things Sebastian had no interest in feeling. Hating her was easier than the alternative. Because the fact was, there wasn’t an alternative. There never had been, and there never would be.

Sebastian entered the English suite and made his way to his desk. Naomi was still there, because there was no way either of them was leaving early with the award on the line. Her things were strewn about the boardroom table as she read over what was clearly student work. “Found the next Dickinson yet?” he asked as he settled into his chair, where he still had a good view of her. If he looked. Which he wasn’t going to do, because the last thing he wanted was for her to think she held more than brief flashes of his attention. He turned on his computer and waited for it to load so he could check his email.

“There will never be a ‘next Dickinson.’ ”

“How profound,” he muttered as he deleted messages. “Enjoy my class today? You know, if you wanted teaching pointers, you should’ve let me know before you spent three years warping the minds of the Hainamor youth.”

“Pretty sure I did more teaching in that class today than you did.”

Sebastian laughed like the idea was ridiculous, though internally he had to admit it was a good comeback. “Yes, well, I figured your feminist agenda would make you well versed in that particular narrative.” He looked over at her in time to see her obviously stiffen at his words.

Without saying anything to him, she gathered up her papers and packed them into her bag. Then with a glare in his direction, she stormed out of the suite.

Sebastian stared after her, wondering what he’d said that had pushed her too far. Granted, it had been an obnoxious comment, one he wouldn’t have made if he’d actually thought about his words before he let them come tumbling out of his mouth, but he still wouldn’t have foreseen her strong reaction to it.

He often made remarks to her that he wouldn’t say to anyone else, but Naomi always volleyed the insults back, making it almost a kind of game. A sick, perverse game that would never have a winner, but a game nonetheless. So he felt a wave of disappointment in himself that he’d evidently gone too far. Though he’d never let her know it. The mask Sebastian wore was a good one. A necessary one. Without it, he was sure he wouldn’t have survived the last seven years. Seven years of pretending to feel nothing when the reality was he felt so much it was overwhelming.

His bickering with Naomi quieted some of it, which was a large part of the draw. Truth be told, despite the fact that he’d rather be slathered with honey and tied to a tree than admit it out loud, arguing with Naomi was when Sebastian felt the most like himself. He was aware that didn’t exactly reflect well on him. But knowing his words may have actually hurt her made him feel even worse than usual.

And that said quite a bit.