Chapter 30
ASHER
Winter break blew by in the blink of an eye.
We watched Terra play with shredded wrapping paper on Christmas morning.
Juliet and Summer baked a batch of cupcakes late one night, laughing into the early hours of the morning.
We went to a local ‘tavern’ that Summer stated may beat out The Pour House for the top spot as her favorite bar.
All in all, it was an amazing getaway. And it was nice to walk down the street holding Summer’s hand and not worrying about who might see us. We were able to go out on real dates without a care in the world.
I got the briefest glance into what a life with Summer could be like, and I want more. It was a dream that I never wanted to wake up from.
Spending nights walking along the cooling sand of the beach to watch the sunset… made me realize that I am completely and utterly head over heels in love with Summer Nyx.
She is everything I could have ever wanted.
She is worth every risk I’ve taken and every possible consequence that may still come. As long as she is with me, I feel like we can do anything.
I’m making my way toward my office when Jared catches up with me. I smile at him since we haven’t seen each other since the break started.
“Is it true?” he asks without preamble.
I stop and wait for him to close the space between us. “Is what true?” I respond as I continue to my office. Jared has a smart jacket over a Flash T-shirt, which he has tucked into black slacks. “This outfit, by the way,” I say, gesturing from his feet up to his head. “It’s atrocious.”
He looks down at his clothes, but shrugs. “Believe it or not, Meghan used the spare key and dumped bleach on most of my clothes.”
“Brutal,” I reply, hoping that he’ll forget about whatever it was he was going to say to me. Rumors among faculty are never a good thing.
“You’d think I cheated on her or murdered the dog or something.”
“Knowing you, I’m sure you fucked something up.”
“Whose side are you on?” he whines as he follows me into my office and flops down in the chair across from mine.
He kicks his sneakers up on my desk before quickly removing them at my pointed look.
He clears his throat. “Anyway, enough about my god-awful ex-wife, I’m here to see if the rumors are true. ”
My heart stutters, and bile rises in my throat. “What rumors?” I ask, my voice cracking with nerves.
Jared leans back so that his chair balances on the two back legs. “Did you really give this semester’s students a study guide for their final?” he asks, incredulously. “You do know that this has been one of your highest-grade averages in years, right?”
I resist the urge to audibly sigh in relief.
I shrug. “I just figured I’ve been a hard-ass lately.
Don’t you think we should want our students to succeed and help them achieve that?
Out in the real world, they can look back on their texts or search for the answer online, but expecting them to memorize everything is a little ridiculous.
His chair cracks against the floor as he leans forward. “What have you done with Asher?”
I scoff, crossing my arms and looking away from him. “Have you taken a look at your grade averages each semester? Because if they tend to be on the lower side, then I think that indicates an issue with the professor and not the students.”
His mouth drops open before he snaps it shut and narrows his eyes at me. “And this just… randomly occurred to you one day?”
Now I feel nauseous.
I mentally kick myself for changing my coursework as soon as Summer suggested something.
Even if I agree with her points, I should’ve waited until she was no longer my student.
My behavior obviously was not fair when I made that decision.
I hadn’t been thinking about my students; I’d been thinking about Summer and what she thought of me as a professor.
I agree with what she pointed out, and with everything I just said to Jared…
but I let my relationship with Summer affect how I act toward my class.
“Someone talked to me a little while ago about how I may or may not be helping my students succeed as far as exams go, and the more I thought about it, the more I agreed with them,” I explain.
“Someone?” he asks, putting heavy emphasis on the word and raising an eyebrow. I meet his gaze, but he refuses to back down. “Is something going on that I should know about?”
“No,” I snap defensively.
His eyes soften as he lowers his voice. “Because I can help, Asher.”
“There’s nothing to help with,” I insist.
He sighs, leaning back in the chair. “All right,” he says, putting his hands up, letting the prying questions go. “How are you feeling about the new semester?”
“Good,” I say firmly with a nod. And it’s true, I do feel good now that Summer is no longer my student. While a relationship with any student still isn’t good, at least it won’t look quite as bad as if she were still my student and someone found out.
“Maybe you can help me draft up some study guides,” he says, a peace offering.
A small smile crosses my lips. “I can do that.”
“And help me find some new clothes?” he practically begs. “Meghan really did ruin most of them.”
“I hope you changed your locks,” I laugh. “Shouldn’t your divorce be finalized soon?”
“Yeah,” he groans, rubbing a hand down his face. “You know she took my favorite armchair? Where am I supposed to watch TV now?”
“Get another chair?”
“She left me the house but took almost everything in it. My mattress is on the floor, dude. And she left me the dryer but took the washing machine. What am I supposed to do? Wash my clothes in the sink before tossing them in the dryer?”
I’m trying my best not to laugh at his situation because I’m sure it’s truly frustrating, but a choked chuckle escapes my lips, earning me a glare.
“I’m sorry, it’s really not funny,” I apologize. “Meghan always was… a little vexing.”
“Why did you ever let me marry that woman?”
“You said you loved her,” I point out.
“I was obviously mistaken,” he mutters.
“Yeah, Jared, I’ll go help you find some new clothes and things for your house.”
He pushes himself to his feet and grins at me. “Thanks, I knew there was a reason I called you my best friend.”
He starts to make his way toward the door and has just stepped into the hall when I call after him. “If you get married a second time, can I be your best man again?”
First, his middle finger appears, then he leans his head back into my office. “I already promised Elijah he could be my best man since you’ve already had your turn.”
I’m shaking my head and laughing as his footsteps echo down the hall.
I text Summer to ask if she wants to meet at my place for dinner later, before I pull up my syllabus to change the dates for the new semester.
Even though I just spent winter break with her, any day spent apart, I find myself missing her.
Like there’s a gaping hole in my chest that only she can fill.
I don’t know how I’ve found myself here.
Falling for your student is so cliché. And the fact that all of these feelings have just bombarded me after a few months?
It’s not something I can wrap my head around.
I try to remember how my parents described falling in love, but I can’t remember if they knew how long it took them. Can someone fall in love in a matter of months? Weeks? Can someone fall in love at first sight?
But I do love her, that’s blatantly obvious. I’ve loved her for a while. I’ve just been too scared to admit it.
There had been something between Summer and me that very first day when we crashed into each other.
I felt it the second my skin touched hers.
And despite how hard I had tried to fight it…
I wasn’t able to stay away from her. I had tried.
Hell, even Summer tried. Every obstacle we’ve faced, every decision we’ve made has only made us stronger.
I hadn’t been looking for a relationship when I met Summer, but just the thought of how much time I wasted while trying to push her away makes a dull ache throb in my chest. How many more memories could we have made together if I hadn’t been so pig-headed?
There’s a sharp knock on the door, breaking me from my spiraling thoughts of my relationship with Summer.
I glance up to see Dean Callahan standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and a stern look fixed to his face. “Professor Stirling?” he says sharply. His brows furrow, and his lips purse into a stiff frown. “We need to talk.”