Chapter 5

“Professor Adams?” The barista from the coffee shop in Sugar Creek said his name. Gideon blinked, trying to make sense of what was happening. Why was she standing here at his door? On campus?

“Yes.” He pushed the door open and propped it, willing his brain to stop short-circuiting. She wore faded jeans and a loose sweater that hung lopsided on her shoulders. Her auburn curls brushed her skin. Should he say something? Did she even recognize him? “I thought you were done with classes at Champlain?”

Her cheeks flushed as she followed him into his office. “I am. Was.” She stopped and drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting . . . you.”

Warmth bloomed in his chest. She did remember. It quickly cooled when he realized her shock meant she hadn’t shown up here for him. He put out a hand. “Gideon Adams.”

She straightened her shoulders and took it. “Megs.”

The name rang a bell, but he was too distracted by her emerald eyes to interrogate the thought further. He cleared his throat. “What brings you to campus? I know it isn’t the coffee.”

She breathed a laugh. “No, definitely not. I actually sent you an email last night—I didn’t know I was emailing you, but—”

“The recording studio.” Her name clicked into place. The student looking for a recording slot. The one who wasn’t currently enrolled. He thought back through his emails, wishing he’d known who he was corresponding with. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help with that.”

She sat in the chair across from his desk and set her bag on the floor, then teased her teeth over her lower lip. “I was kind of hoping you still could.” Before he could protest, she continued in a rush. “I know I’m not technically an enrolled student, but I only need the studio for ten minutes or so. There’s this audition for an audiobook narration—”

“Calloway?”

Her eyes lit up. “You’ve heard about it?”

Gideon nodded as his shoulders tensed. Oh, he’d heard about it. Randall, another friend from his college performing days, had texted him every day since Matt announced the competition giving him new reasons why he should submit. We could hang out at the fall festival like old times, G. He’d laughed at that. They’d played a gig at a fall festival once but hadn’t ever ‘hung out’ there. And they’d never willingly spent time in a small town like Sugar Creek.

Megs ran fingers through her curls, and Gideon felt like a dog that had just spotted a squirrel. “It’s due Sunday night, and I wasn’t planning on submitting, but I needed to be up here anyway for this medical coding certification—”

“Why are you taking that?” He hadn’t meant to cut her off, but her showing up here had put him off-balance. He wasn’t thinking straight.

Megs blew out a breath. “Insurance companies give better tips. Or so I’ve heard.”

Gideon chuckled. “Ouch.”

Megs’ eyes widened, and she leaned forward. “No, I didn’t mean you left a bad tip—”

“I know, I’m kidding.” Gideon crossed his arms over his chest, subconsciously shielding himself from the magnetic field he suddenly found himself in. “I wish I could help, but the studios are only for students.”

Her lips twitched. “Like, you couldn’t even bring a friend in there? Let them try it out?”

“Are you saying we’re friends?”

Her cheeks stained a deeper shade of pink. “I meant hypothetically.”

Gideon propped his elbows on his desk. He should say yes. Just take her back there, let her do her audition, and then . . . Then what? Ask for her number? Make her feel like she owed him something?

If somebody saw him making an exception after the mass of emails sent out to the staff at the end of August, he’d never hear the end of it. Especially for a woman who he’d never be able to pretend he wasn’t attracted to. “Hypothetically, no.”

“No?”

He held up his hands. “There are too many people who want to use the studios and avoid paying rental fees. It became a huge problem last semester, so they’re cracking down.”

“I’m not trying—”

“I know, I wasn’t saying you were avoiding fees. Just explaining the situation.”

Her expression clouded, and Gideon’s eyes were drawn to the slight pout on her lips. He hated that he put it there. “So there’s nothing you can do?”

“My hands are—”

“Tied, right. I know.” Megs’ expression hardened as she bent over and pulled a laptop from her bag. She flipped up the screen. “That’s fine, I’ll just . . . ” She murmured to herself, the light of her screen reflecting in her eyes.

Gideon’s eyes narrowed. What was she doing? If she was going to book a recording studio off campus, he doubted they were open this late. “If there’s anything else I can—”

“Nope. You don’t need to do anything, I just—” She leaned closer to her screen, her eyes narrowing. “Intro to Audio Engineering. You teach that, right?”

Gideon frowned. “Yes, but—”

“Perfect. I’m enrolling in the class.”

Gideon blinked. She was enrolling in the class? He picked up his phone from the desk to check the calendar. They were already two weeks into class, which meant—

“The add/drop date is tomorrow, so I’ll enroll now and then . . . ” She smiled and looked up. “I’ll drop it in an hour.” Gideon opened his mouth and then closed it. “I’d like to book the five o’clock recording session, please. I think if you check your roster, my name will show up now.”

Gideon moved his mouse to wake up his computer.

“Here, I’ll save you the trouble.” Megs turned her screen to show him her enrollment confirmation page.

He shook his head, in awe or frustration he couldn’t tell. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to use the studio. He wasn’t trying to be stubborn, but he’d never been a rule breaker. Even running a yellow light made his heart rate spike. But this was inventive. And if it meant he could spend more time with her without risking the ire of his administration, Gideon was on board. “Okay, then, Megs. Follow me.”

Megs had just paid three hundred dollars to enroll in a class she didn’t need. She pushed down her nerves as she followed Gideon to the recording studios. She hadn’t paid three hundred dollars, not yet. She’d enrolled in the class, and as soon as she recorded her audition, she’d disenroll. Was that a word? Un . . . roll? She’d get out of it, and her money would probably never leave her bank account.

She probably should’ve asked if she could’ve just borrowed equipment, but that was likely only for enrolled students, as well.

“This is it.” Gideon pushed through a door, and Megs scanned the small booth. There was a door that led into the recording area. Past the glass, two guitars rested on stands in front of the corrugated foam walls.

Gideon hadn’t said much since they left his office, and she couldn’t tell if he was annoyed. He probably should be. She’d just told him straight up she was going to drop his class after getting what she wanted. What he refused to give her.

Despite the fact that she wanted him to like her, she was proud of herself. This was a Haley move, for sure. She’d landed on something she needed, and had made it happen. One small step for an average human, one giant leap for Megs.

"Okay," Gideon said as they entered the studio, "let's get started." He hit a few buttons, then strode through the door into the recording area and adjusted the microphone. Let’s get started? Was he planning to stay here while she recorded?

Megs’ heart galloped. She’d practiced in her room, alone, but hadn’t read in front of anyone before. She’d stopped allowing her mom to work on her self-tapes for auditions by the time she was fourteen and hadn’t shown anyone besides coaches and casting directors her work in years. She certainly wasn’t going to start with Coffee Shop Guy. “If you just show me what to do, I can—”

“You’ll stand here.” Gideon motioned for her to approach the mic. “I assume you have your material on your phone?” Megs nodded, and Gideon held up a cord. “If you plug it in here, the text will display on this screen. Make it a bit easier to read.”

Megs stepped closer and pulled up the audition script. Her fingers brushed Gideon’s as she took the cord from him, sending the same pitter-patter of energy past her wrist as when they’d touched in the coffee shop.

She cleared her throat. “And then I can plug in my laptop? In the booth?”

Gideon nodded. “Do you have recording software already downloaded? If not, we can use the computer there and use a drive to transfer the files to your computer after.”

“That might be easier.” Megs hadn’t downloaded any software, and her confidence was draining out of her faster than a bathtub with a pulled plug. This was all foreign to her, and what was supposed to be a simple, no-fuss audition now felt like a sandbag strapped to her back.

But Gideon was standing right there, and after the show she’d put on in his office, she couldn’t pick up her things and walk out. Megs swallowed. “Should I just come find you when I’m done?”

Gideon frowned. “I’ll be in the booth.”

Megs’ throat constricted. “The whole time?”

He smiled and quirked an eyebrow. “Yes. Did you think we let students who’ve only been enrolled in class for five minutes run rampant here?”

Spots appeared in Megs’ vision. Was she going to have to read a steamy romance scene in front of this man? He was going to watch her lips form those words and hear her pant and—

“Megs? You okay?”

She nodded, her cheeks on fire. “It’s just that—”

“I’ve seen the audition material.” Gideon’s throat bobbed. “If that’s what you’re concerned about.”

Megs glanced up and met his eyes. “Kind of embarrassing to read in front of . . . another human being.” A hot human being. A human being I’m already feeling quite self-conscious in front of.

“I promise, you won’t even know I’m there. I’ll make sure it’s recording, then scroll on my phone or something.”

Megs laughed. “Do you have headphones?”

Gideon’s blue eyes glinted. “Sure.”

She opened her mouth to ask for clarification on that answer, but Gideon was already through the door and settling down in front of the control panel. He pressed a button and his voice piped in through speakers. “Start whenever you’re ready.”

Megs nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. Simple. Consistent space from the microphone. Conversational. Just read. She started, and after a few sentences paused and asked if she could start again. Gideon nodded through the glass. When he gave her a thumbs up, she began afresh.

This time, she stared at the text on the screen and imagined herself standing in a darkened room. Rain pattering against the window panes. The man she loved standing across from her, his hair matted to his face since he’d run through the storm to get to her.

Megs started reading. She stumbled here and there, but just restarted the sentence, never allowing herself to drop out of character. Her cadence evened out as she moved further into the text.

“Elena caught his hand in hers,” she read. “‘You left me, Nathan. You left and didn't say a word.’ Nathan dropped his head and pressed his forehead to hers. ‘Because there was too much to say.’

Elena tilted her head, and as Nathan's mouth pressed closer, the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the pulsating energy between them. His lips pressed against hers in a searing kiss, obliterating the dam of pent-up desire she’d built brick by brick and sending fire through her veins.

Elena's fingers tangled in Nathan's hair. Their tongues danced with reckless abandon, and she couldn’t pull him close enough. Couldn’t press her body against his hard enough.

‘I’ve waited too long—’ Her breath caught in her throat as Nathan dragged his hands over her and lifted her from the floor. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he buried his mouth against her neck.”

Megs stopped at the end of the page, coming up for air. Was that it? She scrolled up, but the page didn’t move. She stepped back from the microphone and wet her lips, then glanced up at the glass for the first time since she’d started again.

Gideon’s eyes were on her. He wasn’t wearing headphones. He leaned into the mic, and his voice piped in. “Got it. Did you want to re-record anything?”

Megs shook her head, her cheeks on fire. “As long as you think it’s okay to submit.” She didn’t know what she’d do differently if she tried. He nodded, and she unplugged her phone, picked up her bag, then strode through the door into the booth. “Was that workable?”

She tried to stay casual. Professional. As if she read romance scenes in front of hot college professors regularly. When Gideon looked away, she wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans.

Gideon clicked through screens on the computer. “Mmhmm. I’m just saving the files.” He didn’t meet her eyes as he put out a hand. “If you give me your laptop, I can transfer them.”

Megs nodded and pulled it from her bag, her heart sinking. Was it that bad? He hadn’t said anything about her performance, though why would he? He was there to help her record, he wasn’t an acting coach. Still, that need for validation plunked down unsatisfied in her chest.

She opened the laptop and signed in. “Thank you. I really appreciate your help.”

Gideon transferred the files, then handed it back to her. “All set.”

Megs put the computer back in her bag and only then thought about the time. She pulled her phone from her back pocket, and her eyes widened. “I’m late.”

“Late?”

“For that certification class. It started at five-thirty.” Her pulse quickened. It was five-forty, and she still had to walk to the next building. How had it taken her forty minutes to record? She started the mental math.

Even though she’d been early to Gideon’s office, she’d wasted some time trying to convince him and signing up for his class. Still. “I’m so sorry, I have to run. Thank you again.”

“Pleasure having you as a student for an hour.”

Megs flashed a smile, then darted out into the hall and sprinted. She thought of the woman standing at the door last night, telling her she’d gotten there just in time. Someone would still be there, wouldn’t they? If not at the door, then at the desk down the hall.

Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her shirt drooped off her right shoulder by the time she reached the doors. Megs adjusted the strap of her backpack and pulled on the handles.

Locked.

She tried the other set without luck, then cupped her hands against the glass and peered inside. Her heart raced as she searched for anyone who might be walking down the hall, but there was no movement.

Megs cursed under her breath and dropped her bag to the walkway, leaning it against the brick. She knocked and waited. Nothing. Someone had to walk by at some point. She’d just have to stand there and be patient.

Ten minutes went by, and her heart rate had finally returned to normal. She dialed the administration office and it went straight to after hours voicemail. After twenty minutes, her sweat began to chill on her skin. Thirty, and Megs was close to tears.

She couldn’t miss this class. There were only six lectures, and Mr. Fletcher had been very clear in his initial presentation on course expectations that absences weren’t acceptable. Why had she thought that half an hour would be enough time? What was wrong with her brain?

After an hour and a half, Megs sat slumped next to her bag, her knees pulled against her chest. Nobody had come out to the main hall during their regular break, and why would they? The water fountains, vending machines, and bathrooms were all at the other end of the building. Why hadn’t she made friends with someone in class the night before? Exchanged information?

Megs shivered and wrapped her arms around her knees. It was dark and cold, but she couldn’t bring herself to go to her car. If she could get in there, even for the last half an hour of class, maybe she could convince her instructor to let her make up the lecture time. There had to be some way to salvage this. She couldn’t fail a six-day certification course on top of everything else.

Zero risk. She wanted to laugh, but tears were already welling in her eyes. She’d convinced herself doing this audition would cost her nothing, and now here she was. Screwing everything up. Again.

“Megs?”

Her head snapped up to see Professor Adams approaching on the walkway, his leather bag slung over his chest. Megs scrambled up from the sidewalk.

“What are you doing outside? I thought you had—”

“I got here, and the doors were locked.” She blinked and pushed her curls back from her face, then snatched her bag from the ground.

Gideon frowned. “You’ve been sitting outside since you left the studio?” Megs nodded, willing her desperation not to show on her face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, then swiped it over the lock. The small red dot above the handles turned green.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Megs' heart leaped as she yanked on the handle and rushed inside, not even thinking about thanking Gideon. She rushed down the hall, turned left and found her classroom. Thirty-five minutes left.

She opened the door and slunk in, taking a seat at the back. Mr. Fletcher nodded, but didn’t pause or interrupt his lesson. She was grateful for that. The less attention drawn to her, the better.

She pulled out her computer and opened her notes but couldn’t make her fingers work. Whatever Mr. Fletcher was saying drifted behind the blood rushing in her ears. By the time she convinced her jaw to stop clenching, class was ending.

Megs waited for the other students to filter out, then gathered her things and approached the front of the room. “I’m so sorry. I arrived a few minutes late, and the doors were locked.”

Mr. Fletcher nodded. “It’s listed in the course expectations that—”

“I understand. It was my fault I was late, and I hoped I could make up the work.”

His lips drew into a line as he gathered his teaching materials. “I’m sorry, but we only have six classes. The expectations were clear—”

“And nobody ever has a medical emergency or something?” Megs started to panic.

Mr. Fletcher’s expression softened. “Was this a medical emergency?”

Megs swallowed. She was plenty of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. She shook her head.

He exhaled and nodded. “I’m sorry. We’ll have another opportunity to take this course after the holidays.”

Megs searched her head for another solution, some argument that could make him change his mind. Hadn’t she just been patting herself on the back for being assertive? For finding what she wanted and making it happen?

“I need this certification, Mr. Fletcher. If there’s anything I can do—”

“I’m sorry, but part of being prepared for a job in this industry is learning how to be reliable.”

A stone settled in Megs’ stomach. Now she was being talked down to like she was some flighty teenager? She wasn’t great with long-term commitment, but when she accepted a position somewhere, she was reliable. How dare he judge her like that because of one missed class. Megs nodded and whirled before she said something she knew she’d regret.

Ten minutes. She’d been ten minutes late, and now she was being kicked out of this course. Megs wanted to scream as she stormed down the hall toward the main doors. Yes, she’d miscalculated, but was there no room for error in life? No flexibility? She either had to do things perfectly, or it was all a waste. Either color inside the lines or rip up the paper and start again. Did some people actually thrive living like this?

She punched through the main doors and charged toward her car in the parking lot. When she caught sight of a man with dark hair and glasses leaning against his vehicle looking at his phone, she slowed. What was Gideon still doing here?

He glanced up. “Hey.”

“Hey. Isn’t this pretty late for a professor to still be on campus?”

Gideon slid his phone into his pocket. “You seemed upset, so I thought I’d wait and make sure everything was okay.” He stood straight and crossed his arms over his chest.

He’d waited for her? “You didn’t have to do that.” She walked forward and stowed her bag in the passenger seat of her car.

“I—” He paused, and a muscle in his jaw flexed. “I contributed to you being late, I think.”

Megs rounded the front of her car and sat on the hood. “Are you saying you regret not breaking the rules and sneaking me in there?”

“No. But . . . I regret not asking for your number in the coffee shop the other day.”

Megs’ heart skipped a beat. She repeated his words in her head to make sure she hadn’t imagined them. Was this happening? Had he been just as attracted to her as she’d been to him that afternoon?

The fact that he’d come out and said it made her stomach swoop like she’d just driven over a surprise bump in the road. Her tongue felt thick. “I regret it, too. That you didn’t ask me, I mean.”

Gideon chuckled and ran a hand over his neck as he nodded toward the building. “What happened in there?”

Megs exhaled. “I was told I’d have to sign up for the next certification course. After the holidays.”

“Because you missed one class?”

One class. Not even the entire class, and she was out. Megs pushed off the hood. “Rules, Professor Adams. You, of all people, should understand how important they are.”

Gideon dipped his head as if to say, low blow. “I’m sorry, Megs.”

He remembered her name? She waved him off and turned toward the car door. “It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.” She wouldn’t figure it out. How could she? All she had was an audition recording that needed editing. No promise of a better job, no leads on an affordable apartment, and in three and a half weeks she was going to have to admit all of that to her mother.

Gideon cleared his throat. “Are you hungry?”

Megs paused with her fingers on the door handle, and her heart rate kicked up another notch. “Starving.”

“I know a great burger place not far from here.”

She looked over her shoulder. “Is that where you take all your students?” Gideon’s eyes widened, and Megs laughed out loud. “I’m kidding. I’ll drop your class in the car.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Then I’ll wait.”