26. Grady

It had taken every bit of self-control I possessed not to go after Cameron the second the door closed behind him, every last shred of rational thought to tuck my phone away when I opened it up to our chat, until finally, when three days after he'd walked out of my door, I deleted the thread.

I'd instantly regretted it and tried to get it back, but it was gone.

The semester would be wrapping up in less than a month, and I couldn't remember ever being more grateful to see it come to a close. If I thought it'd been painful to share a confined space with Cameron for fifty minutes back when we'd broken anonymity, it was exponentially worse now. Even catching a glimpse of him in my periphery made me ache, body to toe. I listened for the sound of his voice, his laugh, and then ached when I could pick him out from the crowd. I missed feeling him tangled alongside me in bed, missed the way he kissed and the idle chitchat. Every other moment, I wondered if we were doing the right thing and yet I couldn't see any alternatives.

"I assume book stuff is going well, considering I haven't seen you in—" John made a show of checking his phone. "—literal weeks."

I'd desperately needed the distraction of a friendly face, so I'd asked him to meet for breakfast in an attempt to resurrect our usual routine. The brunch place I'd chosen was noisy. That had been my first mistake.

"Busy, yeah," I mumbled, picking at the food in front of me. Their omelets had nothing on Main Street Cafe's, the bacon tasted like cardboard, and our server was the exact opposite of Cameron in every way. Christ, I'd turned into a disgruntled codger.

John raised an eyebrow and leaned against the back of the chair with a smirk. "Did you forget that I'm a lawyer? Reading between the lines is kinda my forte."

"But you're not on the clock right now," I pointed out, and he chuckled.

"I can't turn it off anymore. Do I need to ask some leading questions?"

"I'd like to object."

He leaned in closer. "Nope, not allowing it."

"It's looking like I'll be doing a publicity tour after all, so I've got to work out the sabbatical with the university and?—"

"What?" John's draw dropped. "That's fucking phenomenal. Congratulations, my man. I can't wait to say I knew you way back when." Then his eyes narrowed. "Why don't you seem more excited?"

"I…I don't know."

"Destination addiction?"

I blinked at the term. "Where did you hear that?"

"You, you dolt. Back when I was worried whether the firm would hire me or not and was convinced if they didn't that my life was over. You told me to enjoy the ride."

John's words rang through me with a tremor of recognition. "And now you're throwing it back to me." I managed a wry grin and then sighed. "I met someone. Someone—" I lifted my finger to stall him when I saw his exuberant expression. "Someone I can't be with. It's already over, so there's not much more to say."

"You fell for a student."

I groaned, which John took as confirmation.

"Hopefully not a freshman."

"Not a freshman, but does it matter?"

"Depends on who you're asking." John studied me for a moment, then set his fork down. "You're in deep, huh?" I didn't answer, and I didn't need to. He could read me like an open book. He lowered his voice. "I fucked one of my professors in law school. It happens more than you think."

"I'm aware."

"So don't get caught. When does this guy graduate? You said he's not a freshman."

"There's more to it than that."

"Oh fuck. You got caught."

"Not exactly, but…" Fuck it. I started from the beginning and filled John in on the whole story, watching as his face registered shock the moment I said the word "glory hole," our no-strings-attached plans, which he rightfully smirked at, and ending on Cameron's revelation about Paul once we'd returned from my sister's.

John absorbed the tale quietly before straightening in his seat, gaze taking on a sharpness that typically signaled he was switching into lawyer mode.

"But you have no idea if this TA has anything on you?"

"Cam…the guy I was seeing said he didn't seem to. He didn't offer anything up."

"Smart."

"Yes," I said miserably. "But the point remains, we're doing something we're not supposed to, ethically speaking."

"Oh my god, Grady. I'm a fucking lawyer, and you're a social psychologist. We both know there are infinite shades of gray. So why don't you talk to this TA…what's his name?"

"Paul."

"Okay, write the rec for Paul, tell him to keep his mouth shut, and be done. Wait." John's eyes narrowed. "Paul what? You said he's a TA? So a grad student, right?"

"Yeah, he'll be finishing up next fall and is applying for?—"

"Some fancy fellowship."

"Yeah." I blinked. "You know him?"

"Holy fuck, the universe has a weird sense of humor sometimes." John chortled. "Yeah, I know him. We've been fucking for a few weeks. Nothing serious, but I remember he was frustrated one night when we met up, said something about thinking he'd pissed a professor off enough for him not to write a rec he really wanted for that fellowship. Wild."

"Wild? No, complicated, potentially scandalous, and something that could jeopardize my career, not to mention my book deal."

"Only if you let it," John said, taking a sip of his coffee. "I'm not sure you're giving yourself enough credit here. First of all, I don't think Paul has anything on you aside from a hunch. Hunches, as you are well aware, are not admissible in an academic setting, much less a court. If he had genuine proof and wanted to do something with it, he would have said something by now. It sounds like he panicked, tried to use that as leverage, but has no real intent of doing anything with it. Probably because that would make him a hypocrite."

"I'm not following."

"Paul likes to tell me of his exploits. He's fucked around where he shouldn't, too. Including his advisor. Whom he's still involved with, when I'm not railing him on the side."

"Jesus Christ."

"Like I said, you're not giving yourself enough credit. Paul has bigger fish to fry."

"That little shit. I should go to…"

John held his hand up. "Nope, you shouldn't do a goddamn thing besides write that rec letter that it sounds like you'd planned on doing anyway, lay low, and…when's this guy you're in love with graduating?"

"I'm not in…" I stopped myself before I lied, Cameron's words in the back of my mind. "August, if all goes as planned," I said softly.

"So, worst-case scenario, you help Paul with his fellowship, build some goodwill, and then tell him to keep his mouth shut."

"And if he doesn't?"

John shrugged nonchalantly. "Then deal with that if it arises. But for now, it sounds like your biggest problem isn't Paul. It's that you're trying to deny yourself something you really want. Just like you've been doing since I met you."

I stared at John, the wisdom of his words sinking in slowly. "It's not that simple."

John laughed, the sound booming even amidst the noisy restaurant. "When is it ever? It's possible for something to be ‘not that simple' but also possible that things get overly complicated, especially by certain academics who are used to looking for patterns and meaning in every single thing. Because it's their job. But a job isn't always reality. A job is an aspect of the greater whole of reality. Unless you make it your whole identity." John looked pointedly at me. "Take it from a lawyer who regularly has to squash my own gut feelings in the name of seeking justice. Because it's my fucking job. But it's not my reality."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. I couldn't ignore the fact that my heart quickened every time the image of Cameron's face popped into my mind. His radiant smile, his cobalt eyes twinkling with curiosity, and, I liked to think, affection for me at the very least.

"You can deny something all you want, but that doesn't mean it ceases to exist, especially in the realm of feelings. Hell, you taught me all of this, Grady. I'm just parroting it back at you, a. because it's true, and b. because I take great delight in getting to reverse roles with you on occasion. Makes me feel smarter than I am. For a few minutes anyway." He winked at me. "Take Paul out of this situation. He doesn't exist. From there, figure out what you want. What you truly, truly want. Maybe it's this guy, maybe it's not. Maybe it's the puritanical life of an academic, and maybe it's not. Maybe it's a combination of many things or none of them. But for as smart as I know you to be, I'm not sure you've figured that out yet."

For once, John was wrong. I did know what I wanted. It was trying to figure out how to navigate the obstacles standing in my way that were causing a raging case analysis paralysis.

I calledPaul into my office later that afternoon, tapping the corner of my desk to indicate the sealed recommendation letter once he'd shut the door behind him. "The recommendation letter you requested," I said, then gestured to the chair in front of my desk. "Sit for a moment. I'd like to talk to you."

Paul's expression went from elated to cautious, but he sat and was smart enough not to take the letter off my desk yet, even if his gaze kept straying toward it like he thought I might take it away.

"You're in the dual degree master's program here—a program that takes up a ton of time and requires a lot of dedication. I've always found that impressive. You've been a good TA, as well, and from what I hear and have seen, excellent at tutoring, too."

"Yessir." Paul nodded, the tension in his posture relaxing slightly. "Thank you."

"At the beginning of the year, you were undecided about what you'd do with this dual master's, whether your calling was more towards the business side or the academic side. I'm sure you're also aware, too, that a dual degree like this affords you a lot of lucrative potential in mergers and acquisitions. You're going to leave this university with in-depth knowledge about human behavior, social dynamics, and a comprehensive skill set for negotiating and managing acquisitions in a variety of organizational contexts. This fellowship will be yet another feather in your cap, and if you play your cards right, you could easily land yourself as a key player in a Fortune 500 company before you turn thirty. My guess is that's what you're hoping for, at least."

"Yessir." Paul nodded again. This time, his back straightened and his chest puffed up. "I've been considering all of my options."

"Right." I held my gaze steady on him. "And let me be clear, I'm not trying to dissuade you from that path. Any organization would benefit from your skills and dedication." I paused for a beat. "However, certain decisions you've made recently…I think you should consider whether those align with your goals. A lot of the art of negotiation is assessing your hand and judging it against what you think the other person has. But one of the greatest mistakes a person in your position might make is to try to negotiate when it's not necessary."

A flicker of confusion passed over Paul's face, his brow furrowing. "I'm not sure I follow, Professor Lusk."

I leaned back in my chair, taking a moment to choose the right words. "Don't play poker when you're not at the table, Paul." I glanced pointedly at the sealed letter before looking back at him. "Not everyone is an opponent to be overcome. Not every relationship should be seen as a transaction." His confusion deepened, but there was something else there, too—a flicker of realization in his eyes. "You're a good kid with a bright future. Don't jeopardize that with rash decisions."

Paul blinked at me, and then he ran a hand through his hair as he seemed to finally understand what I was saying. But also what I wasn't. At length, he nodded again. "I understand completely, sir."

"Good." I gestured toward the letter. "You can take that now. I hope sincerely that it all goes the way you want it to."

"Thank you, sir." Paul picked up the letter and stood, hesitating as he held it, before adding, "For the letter and advice. I hope you know I'm taking it to heart." He scraped his teeth over his lower lip. "I wouldn't want to hurt anyone. It's not my style."

"I hope that always remains the case."

After he left my office, I sank back into my chair and exhaled a breath that felt like it'd been caught in my chest for days.

The relief lasted for all of a minute before the image of Cameron floated through my mind, and the familiar longing for him returned with a vengeance.