a lonely week, and spending time in Professor Greene’s house didn’t help. It was…nice. Like Anderson’s.
But when spring break was over and I’d been paid for my services for the week, I went ahead and applied for my passport at Ethan’s insistence.
When I returned to class on Monday morning, there were questions in Anderson’s eyes, but when I looked away, he started his lecture. I left before he could catch me, and when he texted me the next week, I didn’t respond.
After I made it through my government class, I felt like shit for what I’d done. I certainly wasn’t exactly being adultish, so I headed to Anderson’s office to talk to him. Only my phone started vibrating in my pocket along the way.
Anderson: Dammit, Dax, pick up your damn phone!
Me: I don’t want you to get into trouble. We have eight weeks left, right? We can make it eight weeks.
There, that should appease him, right? Wrong. My phone pinged with another incoming text.
Anderson: Did you get your passport? Are we still going to Nassau?
Me: I have my passport, yes. I’m still saving for my ticket and hotel.
Technically I didn’t have my passport yet. But I would in a few weeks. It wasn’t going to be the issue. The ticket and hotel would.
Anderson: I swear you are the most frustrating man I’ve ever known. Where are you? Are you still on campus?
I looked around and hung my head as I knocked on Anderson’s office door.
“Enter,” came the muffled reply through the door. When I walked in, I leaned against the door and locked it as I stood there and stared at the man I’d realized I couldn’t stay away from. The very man that was scowling at his phone because I wasn’t responding to his texts anymore.
“Anderson,” I whispered.
“Dammit, Dax,” Anderson said as he was up and out of his chair and rushing across the room toward me. When he reached me, he yanked me to him and buried his face in my neck. I grabbed ahold of his hips and sighed. He always smelled so damn good. And he felt…safe.
“Anderson, I can’t do this. I’ve tried, but it’s too damn hard.”
“Do what?” He pulled away and stared at me, a concerned look on his face.
“This. Us. You could get in trouble, and I’m sure I could lose my scholarship. I don’t want either.”
“We’ll be careful, okay? No more office hookups. You know where I live. Can you come over tonight?”
“Why me?”
Anderson sighed, and after he glanced away, his gray eyes returned to me.
“Because you make me feel things I’ve never felt before, and I want to see if there’s something here.”
I looked into those eyes that I saw in my dreams. “I have absolutely nothing to offer to you. Nothing. I’m an orphan that can barely afford food most of the damn time.”
“That’s not what this is about, Dax. This is about us, in a relationship, seeing where things go. I understand you’re younger, I understand you haven’t found a job yet, and there is a vast difference in where we are in life. None of that bothers me. I was where you are once. Let me help you. I didn’t have that. My parents still won’t talk to me because I won’t marry a nice woman and give them grandkids. I don’t want that. I want you.”
I snorted and looked away. Yeah, he might not now, but later when one of his colleagues mentioned it, he would. Warm fingers turned my face back to his, and I looked at him again.
“What are you thinking right now?”
“That you say that now, but what about later? Will you always hide me? What if someone mentions something? You’re old enough to be my dad, Anderson. My dad. That doesn’t bother you?”
Anderson took a step back and sighed. “I won’t hide you—that was never my intention—and the only reason we aren’t open now is because you’re my student. But no, our ages don’t bother me. Obviously they do you though. Fine. You win. I’ll leave you alone. Go back to your apartment, and I’ll see you in class on Wednesday. You won’t hear from me again except in a professional manner. If and when you get over the differences and want to give this a chance, you know where I am,” Anderson said as he continued backing away from me. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t know what else to do. I was miserable as we were, and I didn’t want