16
Thursday, June 5th
Lexi
Blake’s wicked smile, flashing up at me from between my legs on Sunday night, dances in my mind as I jot down the directions Dr. Blevin is rattling off for our dissertation presentations at the end of the semester.
Normally, I’d be obsessing over every detail, overthinking the presentation order my professor’s chosen to the nth degree. Today, though? My brain is stubbornly stuck on the way Blake’s hands felt on my skin. The way he murmured my name like it was the only one he ever needed to say while his face was between my thighs.
The memory flares up again, my cheeks warming as I press my pen harder into the page.
At this point in my PhD program, meetings like this are rare, and yet here I am, trapped in the conference room for an update session that feels about as necessary as a parachute in outer space. Add in the fact that my mind is cycling through an NSFW highlight reel of Sunday night, and this academia gathering is starting to feel like I’m being waterboarded. I’d rather be hauled before a high fae court, burned by dragon fire, or stabbed by a venin—anything, really, disastrous or otherwise, from my mom’s friend Cassie’s collection of romantasy novels—than sit here, wasting another thirty minutes of my life.
“You’ll each have fifteen minutes to do your presentation, followed by thirty minutes of questioning and support,” Dr. Blevin drones on, blissfully unaware of my mental spiraling. “Then another fifteen minutes for closing statements and final defense. Papers are due two weeks before the semester’s end so Dr. Visson, Dr. Thomford, Dr. Leemer, and I have time to prepare your questioning.”
I nod absently, but my mind stays fixed on one undeniable fact—Blake has officially taken up residence in my head, and no amount of dissertation prep seems capable of evicting him.
“Is it just me, or is this starting to sound more like a juryless trial for an impending execution than anything else?” Ginger whispers from my side, startling me slightly but also making me smile.
She’s surprisingly pretty funny. Honestly, I should probably make an effort to hang out with her more outside the lab.
“Then, we’ll convene as a committee to deliberate and assess your success,” Dr. Blevin continues. “At which point, we will make a decision to pass you with no revisions, minor revisions, major revisions, or reject your defense altogether.”
There’s a small titter of gossip and overall unrest, so Dr. Blevin rushes to smooth it over.
“Now, I don’t see the last option as something we’ll be dealing with here, with this group, because each and every one of you has done your due diligence to go over your topics with your mentor professors and seek insight about their validity and workability.” He eyes us closely. “However, that doesn’t mean that if you aren’t properly prepared, you won’t be facing revisions and another defense at the end of the fall semester. Graduation with a doctorate at the end of this summer, my friends, is not guaranteed.”
“I guess there’s a reason they don’t just hand them out,” Ginger sidebars to me again.
I nod, penciling down a few notes—except, they have absolutely nothing to do with this meeting or my dissertation at all.
The subject instead? Blake Boden’s cunnilingus skills.
Slow is better than fast, but at the end, fast is better.
The element of surprise was scary at first, but the more it went on, the better it got.
Blake’s tongue muscle control is far superior to anything I could even remotely imagine mine being.
Just for kicks, I test a couple movements in my mouth, only to find my tongue clunky and unskilled as suspected.
Closing my eyes briefly, I try to picture his movements. Up and down, around in a circle, tiny little vibrating flicks, and a hungry amount of suction that all led to a swift acceleration over the cliff of my orgasm. He surprised me with his skill for reading my cues and intuition about what I would like, but I surprised myself too, by not only liking what he was doing but downright begging for it. I thought it would be embarrassing or feel overly intimate, but it didn’t. Blake made me feel so at ease, I’ve spent the last four days talking circles around myself over whether I can show up at his apartment uninvited and ask him to do it again.
“Lexi Winslow,” Dr. Blevin’s voice says, cutting in on a scene that very much doesn’t involve him. “What do you think?”
I glance to Ginger, complete uncertainty on the question or topic at this point starting as a raging burn in my spine and ending as a plum-hued blush in my cheeks. Ginger slyly moves her head up and down, and with no other option, I blindly follow her advice.
“Um, yes. I think yes.”
“Good,” Dr. Blevin says resolutely, glancing to his notebook and moving on.
I sigh a small breath of relief and mouth, “Thank you,” to Ginger.
She nods, giving me a smile and a thumbs-up, and I make a mental note to ask her what the hell I just agreed to when we get out of here.
“As you all know, tonight is our monthly committee meeting for the advancement of technological sciences here at Dickson, and I expect you’ll all be in attendance,” Dr. Blevin announces, moving on to his next topic of the meeting. “We need to show a strong front of support to ensure the funding of this field of study continues for the next several years. Deans practically use reallocation of resources as a pastime these days.”
I have to cover my mouth to hide a yawn. Just thinking about another one of those long, boring meetings is enough to put me to sleep.
And yet, I know I have to be there.
My phone buzzes from its spot in my lap, so I tuck it under the table and surreptitiously click the message notification on the screen to open it.
Blake Boden: Tell me you can come over tonight. Four days is too many days.
As discreetly as I can, I type out a response and hit send.
Me: I have a meeting I have to go to that I know from past experience will last hours and have me crying for my bed. What about tomorrow night?
Blake Boden: I have plans with Finn, Ace, Scottie, and Julia. You could come along.
Me: HA. No. I’d never hear the end of questioning about why or how I’m there.
Blake Boden: There’d be an end if you’d just answer it directly.
I freeze, my thumb hovering over the screen. My breath gets all tangled up in my throat, but I swallow past the discomfort and quickly type back a reply.
Me: I can’t do that. I’m not ready to start talking to people about…whatever this is.
Blake Boden: Right. “Whatever this is.”
A sharp sting pierces my chest, almost like his words have the power to wound me physically. Which, of course, doesn’t make any logical sense. Blake and I aren’t exactly together. I don’t know what we are or what we’re not. Nothing has been made official.
We’re…spending time together. But only in secret, where no one else knows about it.
Me: Come on. You can’t believe this is well-defined at this point or that it even should be. We barely know each other.
Blake Boden: I wouldn’t say that exactly. I’m starting to know you very well.
Me: You know what I mean.
Blake Boden: We’re going to have to agree to disagree on this one. Which is fine. For now.
Ginger bumps my leg as Dr. Blevin approaches me, and I tuck my phone back away. He sets a packet of papers on the table in front of me, and I smile, ignoring the fact that I’ve once again been completely distracted today.
“Everything okay, Lexi?” he asks, making me swallow hard around reality.
I’ve never, and I mean never, attended something academia-related and treated it as irrelevantly as I have today.
Something about me is shifting. Something inside me is changing. I’m opening myself up to new things and treating the world like it’s more than dissertations and new technological discoveries.
I promised my family I’d expand my horizons and try to live beyond the walls of the lab. But now, I have Blake unapologetically pushing into my world, stirring things up in ways that scare me as much as they intrigue me.
Sure, I could retreat into the safety of my Blake Boden Experiment app, feed it every new data point he’s given me, and hope AI will spit out some quantifiable logic to make sense of it all.
But even AI isn’t equipped to handle the whirlwind of emotions Blake stirs up in me. And lately, there have been so many, I’ve lost count.
For a girl who loves all things numbers, that’s downright terrifying.