My Professor's Secret

41|

forty-one

The day finally winds down once Wyatt and I leave the library after another round of rehearsals for The Scarlet Letter. There's still plenty of time before showtime, but neither of us seems willing to rely on that. Somewhere between running lines and arguing over how we wanted the stage to look, we make plans to start working on the set first thing next week.

By the time we leave, exhaustion has settled into my bones.

Wyatt drives me back to my residence hall and insists on carrying every one of my birthday gifts inside despite my repeated reminders that I have two perfectly functioning arms.

"Those perfectly functioning arms can unlock the door," he tells me, shifting the flowers and bags higher against his chest. "I've got this."

I laugh but grab my keys from my coat anyway.

Today had been perfect. More perfect than I would've imagined a birthday could be without Dad.

The thought stings, but surprisingly, it doesn't consume me the way I expected it to. Once Wyatt showed up at Burt's, there hadn't been much room for sadness to creep in. He kept my mind occupied without ever seeming like he was trying to. There was always some joke that needed to be made, some ridiculous statistic he'd read somewhere that demanded discussion, or some pointless debate he refused to let me win without a fight.

I thrived off it.

Around Wyatt, there was rarely enough silence for my thoughts to become dangerous.

Once I unlock the door, he carries everything inside and sets it carefully beside my bed. Taylor is already asleep, so neither of us lingers. We slip back into the corridor, and I quietly pull the door shut behind me.

"Home sweet home," Wyatt says.

The latch clicks and suddenly, I'm painfully aware that we're alone. My mind immediately returns to the last time Wyatt and I stood together in this hallway. The tension. Everything we'd left unfinished. Only now Trevor exists between then and here.

The memory of waking beside him surfaces before I can stop it. His sleepy voice. His lips against mine. The impossible intimacy of leaving his apartment after spending the night tangled in his sheets. Guilt should've been enough to extinguish whatever I felt standing in front of Wyatt. But It wasn't.

If anything, the attraction I'd spent weeks trying to understand only feels stronger now that he's standing this close to me.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat and twist one of my curls around my finger.

"It's been a long day," I say. "But one of the best I've had in a while. And a lot of that is because of you, so... thank you." I release my curl. "For today. For everything."

Wyatt smiles and I have to pull me eyes away from him to avoid melting right into his palms.

"You don't have to thank me." His expression softens as if he can sense my nerves.

"I want to."

"You deserve to feel special, Alex. Especially today."

Something about the sincerity in his voice makes it harder to hold his gaze.

"You made me feel valued."

"You are valued." He says it as though there isn't even room for argument. "And it's your birthday. Spoiling you was basically required."

"Required?"

"Absolutely." His grin lingers for another second before slowly disappearing. The playfulness between us changes with it.