that would eventually take her away from all this.
Apparently it was possible to think about something unpleasant after all.
Josh ran his lips along the side of her neck. Despite his stated intention to take her home, he didn’t seem in a hurry to move from their comfortable position. “I hope tonight wasn’t too boring.”
She twisted in his arms to look at him, sank her fingers in his hair, and said, “Of course it wasn’t boring. It was perfect.”
His mouth curved in that sweet half-smile she adored so much. “Really?”
“You better believe it.” She yanked him close and kissed him. As her tongue slipped into his soft, welcoming mouth, his cool fingers pressed against her flushed cheeks. The air seemed to shimmer around them like the star-speckled sky above. A perfect, priceless moment.
If only it didn’t have to end.
But maybe it was better that way. They could go out on a high note like a television show canceled before its time. Let each other go before the shelf life expired and the relationship turned sour. Before the illusion of perfection was punctured by their yet-to-be-revealed shortcomings, leaving them both resentful and embittered by the disappointment of their unrealistic romantic ideals.
It was inevitable, wasn’t it? A simple matter of geology. The inexorable effect of pressure and time. There was no reason to think this relationship would be any different.
Chapter Seventeen
“Dr. Ballentine?”
Mia looked up from her laptop and smiled when she saw the student standing in her doorway. “Hi, Antonio.”
His knuckles whitened as he squeezed the strap of his backpack. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure. Come on in.” Gesturing to the room’s only other chair, she tabbed away from the email she’d been sending.
Or not sending, more precisely.
After two rounds of feedback and polishing, her former advisor at UCLA had declared her paper ready for submission to the Annals of Mathematics. The Annals was not only the Holy Grail of math journals, it was published by Mia’s father’s beloved alma mater, Princeton University—which also happened to be the school where Mia had received her undergraduate degree, the top math school in the country, and where she’d spent most of her life dreaming of one day joining the faculty.
No big deal or anything.
Her submission was as ready as it was going to get. There was no reason not to go ahead and hit send. The only thing holding her back was imposter syndrome. A nagging fear that she’d somehow gotten it all wrong and would be exposed as an incompetent. That she wasn’t good enough for the Annals, like she hadn’t been good enough for any of the postdocs she’d applied to. Inadequate. Unqualified. Useless. A pretender who’d wasted everyone else’s time along with her own by thinking she had anything of value to offer the field.
So yeah. That was what had been going through her head, and why she hadn’t yet summoned the courage to hit send on her submission.
Mia turned to Antonio, relieved to have an excuse not to think about her paper for the moment. “What can I do for you?”
“Um…” His tongue darted out to wet his upper lip. “I’ve been thinking about my major and what I want to do with my life.”
She gave him an encouraging nod. “Great. That’s what college is for.”
“I was leaning toward a business major?” It sounded as if he was asking for her permission.
“Okay.” She nodded again and waited, sensing there was more he wanted to say. Mia wasn’t his academic advisor, so there was no need for him to come to her and declare his major—unless there was a specific reason he wanted her insight.
Antonio squirmed in the ancient metal office chair, which let out a squeak of protest.
When he didn’t speak up again, Mia tried prompting him with a question. “Why business?”
“Um, I guess it seemed the most practical.” He paused. “And the most realistic.”
“I see.”
“That’s why I’m in your calculus class. It’s the one recommended for first-year business majors.”
“It is.” There were a lot of business majors in her calculus class, just as there were a lot of humanities majors in her Math in Society class.
“I’ve never really liked math.” Antonio darted a guilty look at her. “No offense or anything.”
Mia smiled. “None taken.” She’d heard similar sentiments plenty of times before. It wasn’t something she took personally, even in one of her students, although it was certainly an indication she had her work cut out for her.
Antonio seemed to take encouragement from her lack of displeasure at his candor.