17. Fern

Chapter 17

Fern

I wake up to the sound of Wyatt's alarm, paired with a fist pounding on his door. "Yo, cuz, we're heading to the weight room. You in?"

Wyatt grunts an affirmative-sounding syllable and rolls to face me. I feel the bed shift, my senses slowly turning on. He plants a kiss on my forehead.

"What time is it?" I don't even want to open my eyes. This can't be when he gets up every day.

"Probably five," he croaks. "But you don't have to rush out of here. Sleep as long as you want and let yourself out." He kisses me on the forehead. It's nice, like how I imagine a boyfriend might wake me up if we lived together. But Wyatt cannot be my boyfriend because he is my student and also because I'm leaving the country in a few months for grad school.

I roll on my back with a groan. "I should go home and shower before class."

I open my eyes to see Wyatt changing into workout gear. His smooth, muscled skin seems to glow in the low light he turned on in the bathroom. By the time I shake the sleep from my eyes, he's brushing his teeth with one hand and pulling on a sock with the other. "Seriously, stay. Nobody will be here. All four of us are going to work out."

Wyatt disappears into the bathroom, and I hear the water running. He appears back by the bed, smelling minty, and kisses my forehead another time. And then he smiles, and he looks so sweet and vulnerable I can't help but swoon right back onto his pillow. "Okay, I'll just close my eyes for a minute."

Wyatt laughs and waves, backing out his door to the grunts of his cousins. I hear low voices and a door close, and then … I'm alone in Wyatt Moyer's apartment. It feels strange to think of him by the other name, the one he's trying so hard to shed, the one he believes is keeping him from the career he longs for, and the family harmony it sounds like they've fought really hard to build.

I think about how very anxious he is about the whole thing, wondering how long it's been since he talked to a therapist about his past trauma. He mentioned counseling from when he was a child, but it sure sounds like he needs help sorting out his feelings now.

I'm drifting back off to sleep, thinking about how good my body feels after offering him a distraction last night. It was a distraction for me as well and a damn good way to celebrate my acceptance into grad school. Hopefully, Wyatt is right, and nobody in his family will mention me at all, even in passing, to anyone on campus.

Just as I'm convincing myself his cousins don't even know my name and that my secret is safe, I hear a door open. And then I hear Wyatt's bedroom door open. Totally bewildered, I clutch the sheet to my chest as a woman stomps into the room, flicking on the light. Noticing me in the bed, she drops a suitcase on the ground and groans. "Well, shit. This fucking figures."

My cheeks heat in embarrassment and confusion. She exits the room and I hear a lot of commotion out in the living room and kitchen area. Cupboards slam, and music begins to play. I hurry out of bed and get dressed in yesterday's clothes, knowing my hair looks bad as I slept with it wet after rolling around with Wyatt. My cheeks flush remembering how he gently washed me in the shower, how we came together in his bed afterward so tenderly, so slowly. I didn't think I'd have anything left in me after he used his tongue on me earlier, but Wyatt surprised me by coaxing another massive orgasm from my body with his hand while he stroked in and out of my body.

I shake my head and grab my backpack, stepping into the hall.

The woman is sprawled on the sofa with a hand over her eyes. "You don't have to leave. I was just looking for a place to crash in peace. My brother doesn't usually have overnights."

"Brother?" The word is out of my mouth before I can process all the parts of her sentence. Wyatt doesn't bring girls home, or if he does, he doesn't tell his sister about it. Did he mention a sister? Everything is so fuzzy right now.

The woman curls into the sofa, pulling a hooded sweatshirt over her face. Her voice is muffled by the back of the couch. "Look, I'm sure you're delightful, but I am going to pass out until one of them gets back from cardio or whatever."

I stand in the middle of the room, not sure what to do. I'm fully awake now, and I decide I might as well head to campus. I can keep plugging away at the stack of exam papers while I try not to panic that this apparently-exhausted sister of Wyatt's might report our relationship to the university. Which would trigger a cascade of disasters including removing me from the position, taking away the paycheck that comes with it, and probably causing Imperial College to reconsider my fellowship offer.

Nope, I cannot let myself have a staircase of terror thoughts.

I send a message to Wyatt as I wait for the bus to the campus library.

Met your sister this morning … I guess she needed a place to crash?

And then, because I know I won't be able to concentrate without asking, I add

Do I need to worry about her mentioning our sleepover to anyone?