Chapter 25
GRADY
I was outside The Library, crouched by the new oak door with a screwdriver in my hand, tightening hinges, when she showed up.
The air had turned sticky with late afternoon humidity.
My shirt was clinging to my sweaty back.
I was certain there were a million gnat carcasses stuck to my body.
One would think I’d be used to the damn bugs by now but nope.
Cece rolled in like a thundercloud. Her red hair was wild, her cheeks flushed, and her blue eyes burned with a fire that could’ve lit the whole damn bar ablaze.
She didn’t say a word at first, just stood there, arms crossed, glaring at me like she was trying to decide which bone she was going to break first.
I straightened up slowly, wiping my hands on my jeans. “Cece,” I said, keeping my voice calm even though my heart was suddenly pounding like a jackhammer. “What’s up?”
“What’s up?” she repeated, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “You’re asking me what’s up? Really?”
I sighed, setting the screwdriver into the toolbox so that she wouldn’t stab me with it. “Look, if this is about the email?—”
“Oh, it’s about the email,” she snapped, taking a step closer. “You think you can just bench me from the dive trip because of some storm? Really? Or is it because you found out I have a kid and suddenly I’m not your perfect little fantasy anymore?”
My eyes widened. “Whoa, that’s not?—”
“Don’t,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “Don’t even try to spin this into something less shitty.”
“I’m not?—”
She cut me off. “What the hell is wrong with you? Diving trip canceled—just like that, I get an email?”
I closed the toolbox lid. “It’s short notice, but there’s a storm front scheduled to roll in Friday morning. Pressure’s building offshore.”
She stared at me, shoulders tight. “Storm? So you’re rescheduling the dive? Or is that your lame ass excuse for trying to be alone with a certain, perky blonde?”
“I’m protecting you.” I said it too loud. Immediately I regretted it.
She laughed like I pissed her off and it was the funniest thing on the planet. “Protecting me? Because I have a kid?”
Her tone was as sharp as broken glass.
I stood. “Yes. Because?—”
“Because I’m a mother? That I’m somehow less capable?” She spit the words like venom. “That I can’t make a choice or be an adult with responsibilities?”
My throat closed. I hated this. Hated every bit of it. She didn’t seem to understand I made the call for her. Not against her.
I stared at her, my jaw tightening. “It’s not about you being less capable, Cece. It’s about the fact that you have a kid who needs you. A kid who can’t afford to lose her mother because I made a bad call and sent you out into dangerous conditions.”
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked like I’d slapped her. The fire in her gaze flickered, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. But it didn’t last long. She shook her head, her red hair catching the sunlight as she took a step closer.
“That’s ridiculous,” she said, her voice quieter now but no less fierce. “Just because I’m a mother doesn’t mean I’ve stopped living. I don’t need to be put up on some shelf and treated like I’m made of glass. I can take risks. I have to take risks if I want to build the life I’m working for.”
I ran my hand through my hair, frustration bubbling up. “It’s not about treating you like you’re fragile. It’s about responsibility. If something happened to you out there?—”
“I’m not a novice,” she spat. “I’m probably a better diver than you. And I’m sure as hell not walking around with a death wish. I know better. If it was truly dangerous, I wouldn’t get in the water. I’m well aware of my responsibilities.”
“I’m just saying, it’s a risk you shouldn’t take.”
She clenched her jaw. I worried she would bite her tongue if she wasn’t careful.
We were alone, but if she raised her voice any louder, people inside the bar were going to hear and that would be bad.
I casually walked away from the door and around the corner, hoping she would get the hint and follow me.
Thankfully, she did.
“What if the roles were reversed?” she asked. “What if you were the one with a kid? Would you stop diving? Stop doing the work you love because it’s dangerous? Or would you find a way to make it work?”
I opened my mouth to respond but stopped myself. She had a point, and we both knew it. If I were in her shoes, I wouldn’t let anyone tell me what I could or couldn’t do—not even for the sake of my kid. But that didn’t make this any easier.
“Cece,” I started, my voice softer now, “I’m not trying to control you. I just…” I hesitated, searching for the right words.
“Bullshit! You are absolutely trying to control me. You don’t know what it’s like to try and get ahead in this field as a woman.
Add in the fact I have a daughter and it’s even harder.
And that’s fine. I know what I signed up for.
But I never expected someone like you to punish me for having a kid. ”
“I’m not punishing you. I’m protecting you and your kid.”
“And tell me, Professor Stone , what would you do if someone told you the Guatemala trip was off because you had a kid and there was a chance you might stub your toe or get bit by a snake?”
I took a deep breath. “That’s why I don’t have children. So I don’t have to make that choice. It’s a conscious decision.”
Her breath cut out of her in a sigh so soft I barely heard it. “You’re being weird.” She waved her hand like I was offensive. “You’re being… a jerk. A pig. A fucking dick, if I’m being honest.”
I swallowed. “Maybe.”
She backed off, took a deep breath. “Why, Grady?” she asked softly.
“I told you why.”
“Yeah, and your answer sucked. I can’t fucking believe you right now.”
My heart pounded—but I dared not look at her face. I had said what I said. I had made my decision and I wasn’t going to change it. She could be as pissed as she wanted to be, but one day she would thank me. Or her daughter would.
“Fine,” she said in a low voice. “Make your choices. But don’t you dare pretend you’re saving me or protecting me because that’s bullshit. I’m not broken. I can swim in choppy water. I can do my job. So don’t hand me reasons that aren’t real.”
I opened my mouth, but there was nothing to say. She pivoted and stormed off back toward the parking lot. “This is why we don’t get involved with our TAs,” I said softly.
Felix strolled out from behind the bar. “Everything alright?” he asked.
I didn’t respond right away. He had obviously heard some of the conversation. “Let’s talk in the office.”
I followed him back there, my stomach in knots. He closed the door behind us and leaned against the desk, arms crossed, giving me a look that said he already knew I’d screwed up.
“Alright,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “What just happened out there? It didn’t look like an argument over the syllabus.”
I ran a hand through my hair, pacing the small space. “It’s complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate it for me,” he shot back.
I stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, crossing my arms defensively. “Cece?—”
“Your teaching assistant,” he said.
“Right, her. We crossed a line.”
Felix raised an eyebrow. “Did you two kill a drifter or something? What kind of line?”
“The kind that could get me fired,” I admitted, my voice low. “We slept together.”
He let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Jesus, Grady. Why couldn’t it have been a drifter? The Board probably wouldn’t even care. But fucking your TA? They’ll chew you up and spit you out for that.”
“I know,” I said miserably. “It wasn’t planned. It just happened.”
“It just happened?” Felix repeated, his voice rising. “My god, Grady, for someone so smart, you sound like a real fucking idiot right now.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Hey, I thought we were friends.”
“We are, and that’s why I’m shooting you straight. If I didn’t give a shit what happened to you, I’d just lie and go on about my day.”
“Well, that’s kind of you, I think.”
He snorted. “You’re supposed to be supervising her. Do you have any idea how bad this could get?”
“I know,” I snapped, frustration bubbling over. “Trust me, I know. Everything you want to scream at me right now, I’ve already told myself over and over.”
Felix sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was trying to stave off a headache. “So, what? You two are in love now or something?”
“No, it was just once.” Technically it was three times but one encounter.
“And if I eavesdropped correctly, you’re now excluding her from the dive trip. Is that correct?” He recoiled slightly like he didn’t want to hear the answer.
“I mean, yeah,” I said.
Felix stared at me for a long moment, then shook his head again. “You can’t pull her from the dive trip because you’re feeling guilty. It’s great you want to keep your distance now, but this isn’t the way.”
“It’s not about guilt,” I said quickly, though even as I said it, I wasn’t entirely sure that was true. “There’s a storm coming in—conditions are going to be rough offshore. It’s not safe.”
“And yet you’re still going?” Felix asked.
“That’s different,” I argued.
“How?” he shot back. “Because you think you’re invincible? You’re underwater Superman?”
“Aqua Man,” I said.
“What?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Underwater Superman is just Aqua Man.”
My friend scoffed. “Now is not the time for that conversation and you know it. Stop trying to distract me.”
I sighed. He knew me too well. “Fine.”
Felix pushed off the desk, walking over to me and clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Look, man, everything else aside, you can’t keep her on as a TA.”
“I know.”
He looked at me like he could see straight through me. “You care about her,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost gentle. “Lie to me and everyone else if you want, but if you have real feelings for her, maybe figure out the right way to explore things. Because I’ve never seen you like this.”
“No,” I said, my voice harder than I meant it to be. “There’s nothing there. And there never will be. It was just a lapse in judgment.”
Felix didn’t look convinced. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the desk again, studying me like I was some artifact he was trying to decipher. “Bullshit,” he said simply.
“It’s not bullshit,” I shot back. “She’s my student. My TA. It’s a line I shouldn’t have crossed, yes, and now I’m fixing it.”
“By removing her from the dive trip?” Felix raised an eyebrow. “That’s your idea of fixing it? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re punishing her for something you both did.”
“I’m not punishing her,” I snapped, though the words tasted bitter on my tongue. “I’m protecting her.”
“From what? Herself? The storm? Or from you?”
I opened my mouth to argue but stopped myself. What was the point? Felix had known me long enough to see through every defense I threw up. He knew about the failed relationships, the one-night stands that never went anywhere, the walls I built so high no one could climb them.
“She has a kid,” I said finally, my voice quiet now. “A five-year-old daughter.”
Felix nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Imagine that. The brave Grady Stone is finally scared of something.”