Chapter 25

He knew, then. At least that was one answered question. Megs picked up the mop in an effort to have something to do with her hands. “I didn’t want to make things more complicated.”

“What did you say to them?”

“I told them the truth.” It hadn’t been easy, but she’d word vomited the whole thing to that woman behind the desk.

“The truth about what?”

Megs scrubbed the tile floors with more gusto and stated it simply. “That I kept information from you and then kissed you without consent.”

Gideon stood up and walked toward her. “Megs, that complaint was filed before that happened. You didn’t need to admit—”

“I did!” Megs slammed the mop on the floor leaving a puddle of murky water next to her feet, then leaned the handle against the booth. “I needed to admit it because the guilt was eating at me from the inside out. If you lost your job over—”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“You don’t know that!” She picked up the mop, but Gideon reached out and took it from her hands.

“Can you stop cleaning and talk with me for a second?”

Megs stared up at him, her body humming with nervous energy. She didn’t want to stop cleaning. It was the only thing keeping the dam up on her emotions. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but this is exactly why I avoided saying anything.”

Gideon’s brow furrowed. “Because you knew I’d have an opinion on it?”

“Because you’d blame yourself! Yes, I get that you’re in a position of power theoretically, but Gideon, I never cared about my grade in that class.”

“It seemed like you cared when you had an F.”

Megs let out an exasperated sigh. Of course he would bring that up. “That was out of principle, but it doesn’t matter! I stayed in that class because I enjoyed what I was learning, and for the first time, I wasn’t worried about checking something off a list or impressing someone with an accomplishment. I liked it. I liked listening to you in class, and I enjoyed the assignments. But you weren’t holding anything over my head or making me feel like I had to be anything other than what I was. You were honest and—”

“No, Megs, I wasn’t.” Gideon rubbed his forehead.

“What are you talking about?” It felt like he was dragging an ice cube down her spine. What had he not been honest about, and why did the idea of him hiding something from her make her insides solidify?

“I should never have been grading your work.”

Megs’ stomach flipped inside out. An image of her standing in front of her first acting coach flickered in her mind. When she’d told him she didn’t want to be together anymore, he’d had no more reason to hold back the truths he’d apparently been hiding for a good part of a year. Truths like you’re a terrible actress, and I only said those things so you’d want me, or this industry requires you to be a lion, and you’re a groomed house cat.

“Please don’t say it,” Megs whispered.

Gideon frowned. “Say what.”

Pressure built behind Megs’ eyes. “If you’re about to tell me that you gave me high grades because you felt bad about what happened at Sammy’s or—”

“What? No, Megs—” Gideon’s fingers brushed hers, and Megs froze as the volume sliders on every part of her body except for those fingers dropped to zero.

“I shouldn’t be grading your work because I think you’re brilliant.”

Megs blinked. He’d told her before how impressed he was with her work, but saying it again didn’t reconcile with him admitting now that he hadn’t been telling her the truth. “I don’t understand.”

Gideon took a step closer. “From that first night in the studio when you recorded your first audition, I was mesmerized. You have this ease when you record. Like you’re telling a story to someone sitting beside you.”

“I don’t see how loving my work would make you a partial judge.”

“Yeah, the problem is that it’s not only your work. I love everything about you, and I couldn’t tell you that for so many reasons.”

“What reasons?” The question popped out before Megs had fully processed what he’d said. I love everything about you. It suddenly felt like she’d gulped down boiling hot coffee.

“First, that I’m—I was—your professor, and for the first time in fifteen years, I wished I was worse at my job so that when you walked into class Monday afternoon, you would’ve hated it and decided to take the E on your transcript.”

“You wanted me to lose three hundred dollars?”

“Honestly, Megs, if I would’ve had any idea how incapable I’d be at seeing you as just another student, I would’ve transferred you the money that second and insisted you drop the class.”

Megs’ mouth felt as dry as if she’d just run six miles. “Second?”

“Yes. That exact second—“

“No, you said that was the first reason.”

Gideon watched her, now so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Second, because I wasn’t going to be Matt.”

Matt. Oscar. Megs thought about the corn maze. About what Oscar had said to her there. How his compliments became empty husks once she realized what he was working toward.

Gideon tugged her closer. “I didn’t come to your house because I wanted you to be flattered or because I hoped—” Gideon clenched his jaw. “I came and asked you to submit that audition because it was important to you. Important enough that you signed up for a class you didn’t need so you could use the studio.”

“That might’ve just been me being impulsive.”

“Maybe. But I happen to think that’s inspiring. I didn’t tell you how much I loved that you sat outside the admin building for almost an hour and a half when the door was locked. Just because there was an off-chance someone might see you there and open it. Or that you were willing to try my recommendations at Sammy’s even though it was probably two thousand calories and you can’t eat it without looking sloppy.”

“Did I look sloppy?”

“Focus, Megs. I didn’t say that it kills me when you bite on the end of your pen or laugh to yourself in the middle of my lecture when I know I didn’t do or say anything remotely funny. I didn’t mention how much I love that you’re kind to Erik, or that you weren’t always perfect at reading my assignment instructions, but somehow that led to better, more creative submissions. Or that you lit up every event during Matt’s auditions and that it killed me that you never agreed with something just because you thought it would make a good impression.”

Gideon paused, out of breath.

Megs’ chest felt like an overfilled tire about to pop. He noticed her. He thought about her. He liked things about her. “What about Alli?”

Gideon frowned. “What about Alli?”

“You seemed close.” She followed you around like a lost puppy and obviously isn’t over your non-breakup.

“You’ve said that before, and I’ve already—”

“Does she know?”

Gideon tucked a curl behind her ear and let his finger linger on her cheek. “She knows now.”

Megs nodded, her skin tingling from his touch. “Why are you telling me this?”

Gideon gave her a look of exasperation and gripped the mop handle so hard, she thought it might snap. “Because you’re not my student anymore. And you already turned in your audition, so you can’t quit.”

Megs’ lungs felt like they were vacuum sealed. “I’m not your student anymore,” she repeated. Truthfully, she hadn’t been his student for a few days now, but he hadn’t known that.

Gideon set the mop against the booth and trailed his fingers up her arm. “I know it’s shocking, but I don’t normally kiss women in parking lots.”

“Even if they’re missing a shoe?”

“Hardly ever.”

Megs breathed a laugh. “I don’t normally kiss professors in the back of their classrooms.”

“Even if they’re holding your charger hostage?”

Megs’ heart stuttered. “Hardly ever.”

Gideon slipped his other hand over her waist and pulled her close, squeezing out all the air between them.

Megs searched his eyes. “I'm a bit of a mess, Gideon. You’ve seen it first hand. I don’t know what I want to do, and I’m barely moving into my own place, which is a loft bedroom barely bigger than Harry Potter’s closet, and I don’t have any savings or—“

“Stop. I thought I knew what I wanted to do, I have a bigger place and savings and maybe a bit of a mess sounds like exactly what I need in my life right now. I’ve done the same thing every day for years, and it’s only made me half happy, remember?”

Megs took this in. That was the goal, wasn’t it? To commit to a life path that made sense, to be consistent, to give up what you wanted now so you could have what you wanted later. But how many people in her life had done that and were only half happy? How many people had checked the boxes and ended up wishing they could make a mess of things?

She wasn’t fooling herself. Living her life the way she had been wasn’t making her happy either. It felt good to have accomplished something. It felt good to be making better money and to have a skill beyond making lattes and wiping tables.

But more than that, it felt good to want something. To want someone. “I can’t trust this,” Megs whispered as she finally allowed herself to touch Gideon. She folded her arms around him, fanning her hands over his back. He felt exactly as she thought he would. Strong. Solid. It sent her stomach into a loop-de-loop.

“Trust what? Me?”

Megs shook her head and pursed her lips. “I get this feeling. Whenever there’s something I’m really excited about, it’s like my brain goes from being Main Street in Sugar Creek to the Las Vegas strip.”

“You get excited about gambling and strippers?” Megs pushed against his chest, and Gideon chuckled. “Seriously, though. Why would lighting up be a bad thing?”

“It’s not, it’s an incredible thing. But then I’m like a moth heading straight for those lights, and I don’t take a second to think about the fact that it could be a bug zapper.”

“You’re focused.”

Megs laughed. “No, I’m a seagull that just discovered something shiny.”

Gideon frowned. “I’m not following.”

Megs knew she was already sounding like a crazy person, but she couldn’t keep the words from tumbling out. “It usually ends up badly, Gideon! Look at the current scenario. I was so excited about the audition, I spent money I didn’t have, I nearly cost myself a job, and a place to live—”

“But you didn’t.”

“Because of you! You helped me get back into that certification course, and you helped me finish the audition . . .” Megs trailed off as an image coalesced in her mind. A strong branch. An aimless vine. Maybe a bit of a mess sounds like exactly what I need in my life right now. “You’re the shiniest thing, Gideon.”

He chuckled. “Most unique compliment I’ve ever been given.” His hand moved over her shoulder and up the side of her neck.

Megs had to work to keep her head from dropping back to give him more skin to work with. She couldn’t believe he was standing there. Pressed up against her just like that night at Sammy’s. All the lights were blazing for Gideon. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

Gideon smoothed his thumb over her skin. “Good thing it doesn’t only depend on you.” He lowered his head and kissed her, and Megs was immediately angry. Not at him but at her own memory. She’d relived that kiss with him a thousand times, and every fantasy had paled in comparison to this.

She arched into him, pressing her fingertips into his back and feeling the flex of his muscles under his shirt. He tasted like coffee and smelled like that hike they’d taken in the woods. Gideon slid his fingers into her hair, and Megs sighed against his lips.

“I should’ve dropped your class.”

Gideon’s voice sounded dragged over gravel. “Yeah. You should’ve.” He pushed her back until she nudged the stool at the edge of the counter, then lifted her up onto it.

Megs curled her legs around him and looped her arms over his shoulders. “But then I wouldn’t have seen you twice a week.”

“I thought that was torture.”

Megs’ eyes widened. “I knew you saw that text.” Gideon laughed and pressed his lips into the hollow of her neck. Megs flashed back to the last minutes of their drive from Sugar Creek. How she’d thought he’d been upset about her YouTube proclivities. “I thought I’d made you uncomfortable. It seemed like you couldn’t look at me after that.”

Gideon cleared his throat. “Because if I looked at you, I was right back in that parking lot. Once I knew you were still thinking about it. You don’t know what that did to me.” He murmured the words against her skin and sent tingles shooting down her spine.

Megs traced the curve of his ear then slipped the tips of her fingers under the collar of his shirt. Exactly what she’d wanted to do in that tractor. Gideon lifted his head, and Megs pulled his mouth to hers. She melted against his lips, memorizing the taste of him. Her hands took on a life of their own, pressing against any part of him she could reach and tracing each line she’d fantasized about discovering.

Gideon’s heart sped against hers, and Megs couldn’t force herself to go slow. How many nights had she lain awake in bed imagining this? How many times had she been sitting in class with her insides writhing because of that dimple in his cheek or his tongue flicking across his lips?

Now it was flicking across hers, and she couldn’t get enough of it. Gideon slid his hands along her hip bones and tugged at the strings of her apron. Megs had just reached for the loop around her neck when someone banged on the glass.

Gideon stiffened just as Megs startled and pulled his head against her chest. It took him a moment to orient himself, but once he did, he was more than happy to stay put.

“Haley?” Megs gasped. Gideon pulled back reluctantly, and she hastily let go of him with a panicked look on her face. “I’m sorry, I flinched.”

Gideon gave her a sly smile. “Don’t apologize.” He rubbed the back of his neck and turned to see what Megs was gaping at. The friend that had been at the coffee shop the first time he’d walked in was standing outside the glass, her eyes wide.

Megs jumped off the stool and ran to the door. “What are you doing here?” she asked as she flung it open. Haley stood there with her mouth hanging open as she looked between the two of them. Megs lowered her voice, but he could still hear her. “Spit it out!”

“I’m sorry, I was just a bit distracted by what I saw happening. Is that—?”

“Haley.” Megs hissed.

Gideon chuckled. It felt good to know Megs had been so hot and bothered that she’d complained about him to her friends. Seeing that text had made his decision today simple. He still couldn’t believe Megs had gotten herself kicked out of school, but more than that, he couldn’t believe that every barrier to wanting her had been swept from his path in under twenty-four hours.

Haley gave an exasperated sigh. “Fine, but I better get details.” She pulled her phone from her jacket pocket. “I was trying to call you, but it seems you were, ah, otherwise engaged.” Haley held out her phone screen in front of Megs’ face.

“He won.” Megs looked up. “Gideon won.”

Gideon blinked. Had he heard her right? He won. The only thing she could be talking about was the narration competition, but those results weren’t supposed to be posted until tonight.

Haley dropped her arm holding the phone. “I’m so sorry M—”

“No, this is incredible! Thank you so much, Hales!” Megs rushed back into the shop, tearing off her apron and throwing it over the counter. “You won!” Megs threw her arms around Gideon, then pulled back to see his face. “Oscar announced the winner!”

Gideon frowned and pulled out his phone.

“I’m so happy for you.” Megs bounced on her heels and waited for him to see it for himself. How could she be so excited? He typed in Matt’s website and waited for it to load, then stared at his screen.

Winner of the Heartsong Audio Narration Contest. The text was large enough it took up nearly the entire screen, but right at the bottom, there it was. Gideon’s name.

“What’s wrong?” Megs asked.

He looked up. “I shouldn’t have won. Your audition was better.”

Megs put a hand on her hip. “If you remember, I didn’t even show up for mine.”

He turned off his screen and was about to put his phone back in his pocket when he thought better of it. Gideon pulled up his messages and typed a text to Matt.

You know Megs is better than me. If this is about what happened in the corn maze, I can’t get on board

He pressed send. It probably sounded snippy, but Gideon didn’t care. He’d submitted Megs’ raw audition and had all but told Matt he’d be an idiot not to choose her. He could decline, couldn’t he? Tell Matt he refused to do the project?

Megs rested a hand on his chest. “Gideon, I’m fine. I learned a lot through—”

His phone buzzed, and he checked the screen. A message from Matt. Gideon swiped it open and read.

Of course she’s better than you. Not sure how to take that last comment. Here I thought I was being the perfect wingman

Wing man? Gideon stared at the message. Megs waited patiently for an explanation, but before he could give one, another message came through.

Let me guess, you’re on the mobile site? One tip. Scroll down

Gideon’s heart jump-started behind his ribs. He flipped over to Matt’s website and brushed his thumb over the screen. His face broke into a wide smile.

“Gideon, if you don’t say something, I swear—”

Gideon turned the phone to her and got a front row seat to her emotional rollercoaster. Her eyes narrowed, then blinked, then opened so wide, he worried she’d pull a muscle.

Megs looked up, her eyes searching. “We both won?”

Gideon set his phone down on the closest table top and swept Megs into his arms. He pushed her curls back from her face, and reveled in the way her eyes fluttered when his fingers grazed her skin.

“We both won,” he repeated. Gideon didn’t think he’d ever heard a more perfect summation of anything in his life.