20. Xander

20

Xander

“Dr. Neilsen.” Closing my eyes, I wonder if I can pretend I haven’t heard the bane of my work existence call my name. I keep walking. “Dr. Neilsen!” The nasal, slightly whiny, very nerve-grating voice of the head of my department cuts me to the core. With great effort, I silently count to ten and turn around. “Dr. Neilsen, might I have a word with you?”

I make a half-hearted effort to smile. “Dean Koontz. Just one? I think I have time for that.”

The unamused purse of his lips tells me exactly what he thinks of my humor. He waves in the direction of my office. “Let’s talk in private.”

Since it’s where I’m going anyway, I choose not to be contrary and instead, unlock my door, stepping aside to wave him in. “After you, Dean.”

He sweeps past me, immediately settling himself in a chair in front of my desk, and waits for me to take my seat. I debate delaying things by making a coffee, but then I’d have to offer him one, and Alfred Koontz is not worthy of my glorious coffee beans. I deposit my leather messenger bag beside my desk, take a seat, and wait for him to start. And wait.

After a minute-long stare-down, he buckles. “It’s come to my attention that, a few days ago, you were seen in a cafe close to campus, visibly affectionate with two separate men. And these men were equally affectionate with each other. While I accept that people express themselves in all manner of ways, there’s a time and a place.”

I blink, shocked. That’s not at all what I expected to hear from him. In truth, his point is well taken. Although we weren’t falling all over each other, ripping clothes off, or shoving tongues down each other’s throats—and let’s be honest, I’ve seen students do just that in that very location—I should have been more aware of my surroundings. “I agree.”

This seems to take the wind out of his sails and give him pause, probably because, in the entire time he’s been head of the department, we’ve rarely agreed on anything. Now that we have, it unfortunately seems to encourage him to continue. “Look, I was young once. I know how hormones can take over, clouding good judgment. They’ve made all of us do things that we normally wouldn’t at one point or another.” For a brief moment a picture of a horny Alfred Koontz flashes in my mind and I mentally blanch before shoving the image as far away as possible.

“But I’m sure you understand that to be taken seriously, the faculty must maintain a level of respectability. We have appearances to uphold. And prior to this instance, you were doing a decent job of that. Even though you’re gay, you’ve maintained a circumspect lifestyle and kept your private life private. I’m hoping that this mistake at the cafe was just a momentary lapse in judgment. We obviously can’t have that kind of thing happening again. That kind of deviance isn’t something we want in our faculty. If students see professors being promiscuous with multiple partners, they’ll assume it’s fine for them to do as well. While they’re still young, that kind of behavior might be overlooked, but as a responsible adult, such proclivities are frowned upon and should be avoided.”

In future, I will be able to say that I understand the term ‘seeing red’ from firsthand experience. I’m beyond furious. My cold rage manifests as calm even as it boils my blood. I should have known he would take this conversation there. Alfred Koontz is, and always has been, a judgmental, moralistic, stick-in-the-mud and a prime representative of all that is wrong with the Boomer generation. Not that subsequent generations are perfect, but Jesus Christ, the man is a walking embodiment of human garbage. “Excuse me? Are you saying that adult, consensual polyamory is deviant behavior?” Okay. Technically, by definition, it might be, since polyamory isn’t a usual or customary way for the majority of people to be. At least in this country. But it is a valid and accepted type of relationship. Who cares that only four or five percent of the population admits to being in a consensual non-monogamous relationship? Fine. I’ve been researching it. And it’s people like him who keep that number artificially low. Who wants to admit to living outside the norm when asshats like Alfred Koontz blast them with negative judgments?

“Yes. By definition—”

I cut him off. “I do not consider myself a deviant. Nor will I allow you to sit here and call me or my partners that.”

He sits up, eyes wide. “So you admit to being in a relationship with both men?”

“I admit to being in a consensual, mutually caring relationship with two adult individuals who are kind, affectionate, and genuinely good people.” I stare him down, daring him to contradict me.

He looks crestfallen. “I’d seriously hoped you’d tell me it was a misunderstanding. Or that it was a momentary error in judgment.” He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to go to Provost Owusu with this and rescind my recommendation for your tenure. We need to ensure that our tenured professors set the right kinds of examples for our student body.”

“I suppose I’ll have to go to HR then and report you for your harassing, bigoted comments.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “You couldn’t prove it.” He looks around my office. “Unless you’re recording us, which is illegal without my knowledge, or unless there are students eavesdropping outside your door, it’s your word against mine.”

“The provost won’t see this as a reason to deny me tenure.”

His smirk is evil. “Your teaching quality is questionable at best. You’re difficult with students and demand excessively high results.”

I gawp at him. Those are exactly the qualities he said made him approve my tenure application in the first place. It’s how he teaches, for god’s sake. “So, you’re going to fault me for the very way you teach?”

“It’s a valid reason to deny tenure.”

Dread and embarrassment slam into me. I’m alternately hot, then cold, and blood rushes in my ears. Before I give him the satisfaction of seeing how his pronouncement has affected me, I inhale deeply, then exhale slowly. It helps to calm my racing heart. “You do what you feel you need to, Dean. And I will, too.”

“What does that mean?” His outrage is clear in both his tone and posture as he sits up taller, shoulders back.

“It means you may have your conversation with Provost Owusu, but I’ll have mine. She has an open door policy.” She’s also reasonable and tends toward progressive thinking, but tenure isn’t solely based on one thing. Shit. This could be the end of my career here. If I’m not granted tenure, I’ll have to switch schools and start the process all over again somewhere else. And that could mean moving. Which would be the end of what Bjorn, Kaino, and I are just starting. I can feel my emotions ratcheting up. My hands are trembling with rage and fear, so I keep them in my lap where Koontz can’t see them. “Please leave. I don’t have time to waste on bigots.”

Dean Koontz shoots out of his seat like he’s been stabbed with a pin, mouth open in shock and indignation. Good. Welcome to the club. When I don’t flinch, he spins on his heels, yanks my office door open, and storms out, slamming it behind him. I sag into my chair and cover my face with my hands, breathing slowly, forcing my body to calm down. Fucking hell.

As soon as my hands stop trembling, I pull my phone from my pocket and text Bjorn.

Me: Are you home?

It takes a minute for the response to come back

Bjorn: In the yard playing with Pita. What’s up?

Me: I’m done for the day and could use a hug. Any chance I can stop by?

Bjorn: Everything okay?

Me: Bad day.

Bjorn: Just so happens I have a hug with your name on it right here

Me: heart emoji On my way

I knock on Bjorn’s front door, and it swings open almost immediately. Bjorn doesn’t even say hello before he wraps me in his strong arms. It might be the best hug I’ve ever experienced. I relax against him, letting him support most of my weight. “That bad, huh?”

I nod against his temple. “Yeah. It’s only 4:00 p.m., but I sure could use a glass of wine.”

He kisses my cheek. “Absolutely, babe.” He lets me go and takes my hand, leading me into the kitchen, and I sit at the breakfast bar, shoulders slumped, feeling marginally better just because I’m here. “Kaino’s on their way. They’ll be here in about twenty minutes, so why don’t we hold off discussing what happened until they can listen, too. No sense repeating yourself.” He turns to face me. “That’s if you want to tell us. Or them. I shouldn’t assume.”

He pulls a bottle of white wine from the fridge and holds it up for my approval. I nod, not really caring what kind it is. Bjorn knows what I like, so I trust his choice. “Of course I want to tell you both. I’m actually glad they’re coming over. And sorry if I messed up any plans you had.” I take off my glasses, set them on the granite countertop, and rub my temple.

“Nah. You didn’t mess up any plans. I was just out in the yard with Pita.” As if summoned by his name, the big Norwegian Elkhound wanders into the kitchen, his massive paws slapping against the hardwood floors. He saunters over, eyes bright and tail wagging, but his demeanor is calm, so he and Bjorn must have worked off a lot of his energy.

Pita rests his chin on my thigh, and I scratch behind his ears. “Hey boy. How’s your day? Sounds like you and your daddy were having a great time outside.” His tail still wags, but his head gets heavier on my leg the longer I pet him. Grinning, I glance up at Bjorn. “He’s wiped out.”

Bjorn nods, returning my grin. “We were out there for a few hours. Thank god Gunnar bought us the automatic ball tosser, or I’d be in some serious pain right now. All that overhand throwing would have irritated my side, I’m sure.”

With a jolt, I remember Bjorn’s injury. God, I’m such an insensitive jerk. Though he does act like nothing’s wrong, so it’s difficult to remember it’s only been about three months since the incident. “That was very thoughtful of him.”

“Yeah. It really was.” Bjorn rubs the back of his neck and grins sheepishly. “Funny how much things improve when you stop assuming you know what’s best for everyone.” His eyes widen. “Me. I meant I was the one doing the assuming. Not Gunnar.”

I hold out my hand, and when he rests his palm in mine, I lace our fingers together. “I knew what you meant, sweetheart.”

His pocket makes a soft chiming sound. “That’s probably Kaino.” Bjorn pulls out his phone and taps the screen, opening the security app. “Hey.” I can see the driver’s face on the screen. “I’ll open the gate. Just pull around the circle.” The driver gives a quick nod, and Bjorn taps the screen twice more before stuffing the phone back in his pocket. “They’re pulling in now.” Pita lifts his head, but Bjorn shakes his. “Pita, stay.” Pita huffs disgustedly but flops back onto the floor, not terribly upset that he isn’t allowed to jump all over Kaino. I stand and carefully step around the poor exhausted baby, careful not to disturb him, and follow Bjorn into the entry.

Bjorn opens the door just as Kaino is reaching for the doorbell. They raise their eyebrows. “That’s efficient.”

“Is it okay if I hug you?” Over Bjorn’s shoulder, I can see Kaino’s eyes soften. They nod and step into his open arms, completely engulfed in the embrace. When Bjorn lets go and Kaino steps back, they take one look at me and frown. “What happened?” They’re by my side in an instant, stroking my cheek and holding my hand.

I squeeze lightly and jerk my head toward the kitchen. “Let’s go in so I can sip my wine and we can all sit down.” Bjorn was wonderful at distracting me, but thinking about the threat to my tenure has my stomach roiling and my anxiety spiking again.

Bjorn pours Kaino a glass of red wine. “Do you want to move into the living room? It might be more comfortable.”

I shake my head. “Here’s fine. It’s not going to be that long of a conversation.” I could drag the story out and add more drama by giving them all the details of what a bastard Dean Koontz has been over the years. But that would take energy that I don’t have. “It’s upsetting. But there’s nothing to be done, other than waiting to see what happens.”

“Maybe it’s better if you start at the beginning.” Kaino strokes my hand, and Bjorn smiles encouragingly.

In my mind, I replay today’s interaction from start to finish, trying to organize my thoughts. All it accomplishes is making my blood pressure and embarrassment spike. Though I acted as if I wasn’t worried—there’s no way I’d let Koontz know he got to me—I have no real idea what the provost will say. And I’m terrified about my future at the school. When I start to speak, my voice quavers. “As we assumed, some students saw us at the cafe on Tuesday.” Why do people think it’s okay to plaster the private lives of others on social media? Why is a kiss such a big deal? I grip the stem of my wine glass. “It made it back to the dean of my department. He doesn’t like me to begin with.”

“Why not?” Bjorn looks personally affronted, and it’s incredibly sweet.

“Because I’m gay. Because I have long hair. Because I’m a Leo. Who the fuck knows?” As my voice creeps into higher octaves, the words spill out of my mouth, faster and faster.

Kaino scowls. “Because he doesn’t approve of your teaching methods?”

“Oh no. That’s the one area he does approve of. He’s as much of a hardass as I am in the classroom.” It makes me want to loosen up a bit, just to academically flip him off. “He showed up at my office after my last class of the day to have a chat .” I make air quotes when I say chat.

“About what?” Bjorn’s expression is stormy, and I feel vindicated.

My hands shake as I flail them around. “Well, he talked at me about decorum and deviant behavior.”

“Excuse me?” Kaino’s scowl is fierce. “Deviant behavior?”

It’s all I can do not to go off on a rant about the jerk. “Right?” I practically shout it like an expletive. “ His words. He very succinctly told me our behavior”—I gesture to the three of us—“set a poor example for the students. He outright called me promiscuous and told me I’m too old to act that way!” My blood pounds in my head, and I feel tears pricking at the back of my eyes. How dare he impugn my character. “He thinks polyamory is deviant behavior and unacceptable in a tenured professor.” I suck in a deep breath, and my voice cracks. “He’s going to the provost to withdraw his support of my application.” My gaze darts between Bjorn and Kaino. “I’ve worked hard to get to this point. It’s fucking difficult to navigate all the hurdles required for the application, and that sanctimonious prig is going to try to destroy my future because of his ridiculously narrow views.” Tears of frustration stream down my cheeks at the thought of having to start the whole decade-long process over again at another institution.

“That motherfucker!” Bjorn’s voice is so loud that Pita jumps to his feet and runs to stand behind him, ready for action.

“Bjorn.” Kaino’s voice cuts through the chaos. “Not helping.” Bjorn clenches his fists, taking slow deep breaths in and out.

I laugh a bit wildly. “He’s right, though.”

“Xander.” I laugh again. Kaino’s hands wrap around my forearms, and they give me a firm shake. “ Xander. ” Their command voice is like a slap to the face. My gaze locks on theirs, and I’m shocked into silence. “Calm down. Take a breath.” I am breathing. Don’t they see how fast my chest is moving in and out? “A slow one.” Kaino puts their hands to either side of my face, holding my gaze. “Breathe with me, Kit. You can do this.” They inhale slowly, and I follow suit, holding it for a few beats, then we exhale in tandem. “Good boy. You’re doing so well for me.” They smooth back my hair and wipe at my tear-streaked cheeks. “That’s it. Just breathe.” Ridiculous though it is, their few words of praise settle the rest of my wild thoughts. I bring my hands up to cover theirs. “We’ll figure this out. Just breathe for me.”

It takes a minute, but with Kaino’s help, I get myself under control, wiping the remaining tears from my face. “I’m sorry.”

“Shh. No need to apologize. This is very upsetting. But we can figure it out together. We just need to stay calm and focused.”

Pita whines piteously. Bjorn drops to his knees and scratches behind Pita’s ears. “It’s okay, bud. Everything’s fine.” Then he looks at me. “What’s not fine is what that”—he cuts off whatever expletive he was about to spew and takes a breath—“dean said. What can we do? How do we fix this?”

I shrug. “Nothing to fix. If he hasn’t already gone to the provost, he will soon. The damage will be done.”

“Can’t you go to the provost? Explain your side if he’s already been there, and cut him off at the knees if he hasn’t.”

Damn, I love how irate Bjorn is for me. It does make me feel a tiny bit better. “I could, but I don’t want to appear like a whiny baby who runs to her because I can’t handle some name calling.” Instead, I went running to Bjorn and Kaino. But they won’t judge me. “Plus, he may not say anything, and then I’ll look really foolish. I want to appear as professional as possible.” Even if I’m scared shitless, as Bjorn would say.

Kaino, ever the voice of reason, interjects. “I doubt your provost got to that position by listening to every irate dean who reports to her.”

“True. She’s fair in her dealings with everyone.” That, more than anything so far, helps calm my nerves.

They nod and squeeze my hand. “What about HR?”

I shake my head. “It’s his word against mine. We were in my office with the door closed when we had the conversation.”

“Then the only thing we can do right now is get you settled.” Bjorn pushes to his feet and slips his arms around me. “What can we do?”

I shrug, emotionally wrung out. “Nothing. I’m fine.” The words come out a bit dramatically, but I’m feeling dramatic.

Kaino smooths back my hair again, and I lean into the touch. “That feels nice.”

“Hmm. How about this?” They turn to Bjorn. “I’m assuming you have a hairbrush.” Bjorn nods. “Get it, please.” They turn back to me. “Go sit on the couch and take down your hair. Bjorn can brush it for you while I go upstairs and run you a hot bath. Would that feel good?”

“In the huge tub in Bjorn’s bathroom?”

They nod. “Do you want bubbles, if I can find some?”

“Yes, please. And candles?”

Kaino smirks. “Yes, and candles. I’m sure Bjorn has some around here.”

I look at them through my lashes. “Will you both join me?”

“We’ll see. This is supposed to be relaxing to calm your nerves.”

I pout, because the thought of Bjorn and Kaino in the big bathtub with me, candlelight shimmering across their wet skin, is tantalizing. “Please?”

They kiss the tip of my nose. “I said we’ll see, brat. Now grab your wine and go into the living room.”