15. Blake
15
BLAKE
“ S ounds like things are good with you and Milas.” Jeremy saunters into my office, coffee in hand.
“You bring me one of those?” I’ve had two cups already, but the day is young. Caffeine is good for me.
“Nah. But there’s more in the pot, and Randi just left to run something over to the Chem building, so you should go now.”
I take my opening and head to the break room to pour myself a cup of coffee, grateful that Randi’s office is still empty as I head back to my own office, where Jeremy has made himself at home.
“So? Things good with your girlfriend?” Jeremy leans back, his heels propped on a stack of textbooks that I’ve been meaning to put away.
“Sure. We’re going to dinner at Kashman’s place tomorrow.”
“Really?”
I take a sip of the coffee. It’s extra strong, just the way I like it. Hot and bitter. “Yeah. Why?”
Jeremy whistles softly. “That’s a big deal. Your little arrangement with her is paying off.”
I furrow my brows as I set the mug down on my desk. “That’s what’s strange, though. Kat says she’s never been invited. Like Kashman only wants her there because she’s with me.”
“Huh.” He takes a sip of his coffee, so much creamer in it that it’s a pale tan. “Well, let me know how it is. I’ve never been invited.”
I lean back, pushing a hand through my hair. “Part of me is wondering if we shouldn’t go. Like if we go, are we reinforcing whatever game he’s playing? She says it’s the men who get invited all the time. I feel wrong taking advantage of that.”
Jeremy shrugs, his hair falling over his eyes. He pushes it back into place as he thinks. “Straight white men, in particular. I think your heart is in the right place, but you’ve got to think about your career. And hers. She’s no stranger to the politics of academia.”
He’s right, of course. Kat has been dealing with this a lot longer than I have. She doesn’t need me riding in like some white knight to fight her battles.
She’d probably have my balls if I tried.
Either way, I don’t have time to dissect it right now.
I glance at my watch. “Don’t you have a class to teach? I’m headed over to teach micro if you’re going that direction.”
Pressing his hands to his thighs, Jeremy stands. “Yeah. I’ll walk with you.”
I can’t decide how I’m feeling about this dinner at Dean Kashman’s house. It has the potential to do wonders for my career, and Kat’s, if we can get in good with the dean. But it seems like so much pressure.
By the end of the day on Wednesday, I’ve run through the full spectrum of emotions and decided that I’m going to take this as an opportunity to make some new friends and to sell our relationship, especially to Dean Kashman.
He has no reason to question it. No one does. We’ve been the picture of a happy couple on campus for more than two months now. The only one who knows the truth is Jeremy, and so far, he’s given me no reason to distrust him.
But there’s something about the way Dean Kashman looks at us when we’re together, Kat and me. Like he’s sensing that there’s something off, or like we’re a puzzle he needs to solve.
It could be that he senses that our relationship is off somehow. That it isn’t real.
And the last thing we need is his scrutiny.
Knocking on Kat’s office door, I lean against the doorframe. “Hey. How are things coming?”
Kat looks up from the paper she’s marking up with a red pen, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Just finishing this up. I’ll be done in…” She checks her watch. “Five minutes. Maybe ten. You want to wait here and then we can go?”
“Sure.” Lowering myself into a chair, I pull out my phone and scroll through the text messages until I find the one from Addison.
Addison
When do I get to meet your wedding date?
When do you want to meet her? Maybe this weekend? I can bring her to the bar.
No!
I mean, sure, but I want some one on one time with her. Or girls only time.
Why?
Girl reasons.
What? What does that even mean? Do you need to talk about tampons and your cycles syncing up or something weird like that?
If you must know, we need to talk about you.
I don’t approve of this plan.
Give me her number. I’ll work out the rest from there.
Sighing, I contemplate how to manage this. The last thing I need is Addison filling Kat’s head with her opinions of me.
“Okay, ready to go.” Kat’s perfectly arched eyebrows pull together as she looks at me. “What?”
Standing, I shove my phone back in my pocket and hold a hand out to Kat. “Nothing really. My buddy’s fiancée is still on the warpath about meeting you.”
“I told you I don’t mind.” Kat slides her laptop into her purse and slings the bag over her shoulder in one smooth move. “When? I’m pretty open this weekend.”
“Addison, the bride-to-be, is going to text you to figure something out. But what are you doing Saturday night? My buddies and I are meeting up at the bar. It’ll be nice to have you there, if you’re okay with a bunch of nosy questions. They want to meet you, too.”
“I’d love to come.”
We walk into the hallway together, making our way toward my truck as we talk.
“I think you’ll like the guys. They’re pretty laid back, most of the time. But Addie’s the one who really wants to meet you.”
Kat’s heels click on the sidewalk. “You mentioned that a while ago. I can’t wait to meet her.”
“She’s fun. She’s…a lot, though, sometimes.” I pull on my neck as we pause at the edge of the parking lot to let a car drive by. “She wants girl time to get to know you, she says.”
To my surprise, Kat throws her head back, laughing. I stare at her as she gathers herself, still giggling.
“You’re more nervous about that, aren’t you? I can tell.” She laughs again. “You can handle me meeting your friends. You just don’t want me alone with her because we’re going to talk about you. ”
“I’m not—” The denial dies on my lips, because she’s dead on. “How do you know that?”
Still laughing, Kat pulls open the passenger door of my truck and slides in. “Because it’s written all over your face, Blake. And that’s what girls do when they get together. Especially girls whose only connection is through their significant others.”
Sighing, she shakes her head as she pulls down the sun visor and flips the mirror open. “God, I needed that laugh. Thanks.”
She wipes at imaginary bags beneath her eyes and applies a coat of lipstick, a coral pink color that brings out the gold flecks in her eyes.
I’m not really sure how to respond to that, so I just put the truck into Drive and pull out of my spot.
“It’s got to be that one.” Kat points to a yellow house with white trim.
Three cars are parked on the street in front of the house, and one in the driveway.
I check the street number as I park behind one of the other cars, verifying that this is Dean Kashman’s house. “Nice place. Big for one guy. I thought you said he was single. ”
Kat pulls down the mirror and checks her makeup again. “He was married back when I first started at Ardmore. They got divorced…two years ago, I think? No kids.”
Knowing Kashman, I’m not surprised his wife left him.
Kat puts her hand on the door handle, and I softly grip her other arm to stop her. “Hey. You ready?”
Kat smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. I’m good.”
Shaking my head, I capture her gaze. “The truth.”
She blinks at me slowly, pulling in a deep breath through her nose before she lets it out through her lips. “Okay, fine. I’m nervous. Is that weird? I’m not worried at all about meeting your friends, who are complete strangers, but the idea of walking into this house and socializing with colleagues has me tied up in knots.” Her tongue darts out, licking her lush lips. “There’s a lot riding on this. On us. ”
When Kat looks down, I move my fingers to her chin, tipping her face upward to meet my gaze. “We’ve got this, Kat. I’ve got this. Just relax and trust me.”
Something in her softens. It’s subtle, with the slightest relaxation of her shoulders, the ease of the pinch between her brows, the loosening of her jaw. If I weren’t paying attention, I’d have missed it .
Kat may be a strong, independent woman, successful in her career, but there’s another side of her. A side that can lean on a partner who she trusts.
And fuck if it’s not the most attractive thing I’ve ever seen.
My jaw tightens. Nothing real. No feelings, nothing long-term. Because I’ve seen the fallout of “true love,” and I’ll be damned if I’m going to put myself—or someone I care about—in that situation.
Slipping her hand into mine, Kat follows me up the brick walkway to the two-story home.
Dean Kashman’s house looks different from what I expected. For some reason, I pictured a bachelor pad, with a keg in the corner or something. Maybe because he hit on my girl, I expected it to reflect his single lifestyle.
Hold on. Scratch that. Not my girl.
Just for looks.
Anyway.
I’ve barely raised my hand to knock when the door opens, revealing Dean Kashman on the other side.
“Welcome, you two. Glad to have you. Feel free to grab a drink and mingle.”
His house is tastefully furnished, warm, and inviting. A leather armchair sits next to a bookshelf packed full of books. An oriental rug in the center of the living room creates the illusion of a cozy space between the chair and a matching sofa, a coffee table sitting between them, in the otherwise large, open-concept home.
“I think his ex-wife did the decorating,” Kat whispers in my ear, her warm breath tickling my skin.
We make our way to the bar, pausing to greet the other faculty members already in attendance.
Kat is in full career mode—charming, confident, a bright smile for everyone. It’s the authoritative professor, but with an added dollop of charm.
I could get addicted to just watching her. I might be addicted already.
By the time we reach the bar, Dean Kashman is already there. I pour myself a glass of cabernet—a pricy one, from the taste of it—while Adam fills a glass with Sauvignon Blanc for Kat and tops off his own.
“I’m excited to hear how things are coming with the new course you’re designing,” Adam says. “I hope it’s not too much stress to ask you two to work together.”
His eyes narrow slightly.
How does Kat not see this? Adam is either trying to see through our ruse or, if he’s buying it, trying to break us up. Or just showing his bias. I can’t tell which, but I’ll be paying more attention to figure it out.
Pulling Kat closer to me, I smile. “It’s going well. And spending time with this woman is never a hardship.”
I press a soft kiss to her cheek. Her skin warms beneath my lips.
Kat blinks up at me, looking slightly dazed, but she recovers quickly. “Yes, the curriculum design is going well. I think we’ll have some preliminary outlines for you soon.”
“Good, good.” Adam lifts his glass to his lips and takes a long sip. “Now, Blake. Game theory is a fascinating subject. I’ve always wanted to know more. Does it give you a leg up with poker?”
I laugh. “Hardly.”
I’m about to elaborate, talk more about my career as a professional poker player, but Kat stiffens next to me. I look around, but nothing has changed. Is it something about our conversation?
Looking down at her, I try to read her expression, but she’s plastered a smile on her face. A fake smile, one that says she’s uncomfortable with the subject. I don’t understand how the idea of playing cards could provoke a sore spot, but you never know.
Changing the subject seems like the safest thing. “ Anyway, I think my subject pales in comparison to Physiology. I’d rather hear more about Kat’s latest research project.”
She perks up slightly, delivering her elevator pitch in practiced perfection.
I study her as I sip my wine, wondering if I just uncovered a new layer to Kat Milas.