8. Grady

"Not a sight you see very often in February," I said, slowing my pace beside the bench where Cameron had parked himself. He was the only student sitting on the benches scattered along the campus sidewalks as far as my eye could see, although there were plenty of folks bustling in and out of the buildings or jogging across the quad, trying to make dirty snowballs from the most recent snowfall. Next to him, a half-eaten sandwich on a baggie lay atop two books.

Cameron glanced up from his phone and flashed me a smile. "I know, I probably look like a weirdo." He glanced around. "Definitely a weirdo. Between work and school, it feels like I'm inside a lot and—" He cut himself off and shrugged. "It's not that cold, anyway."

"Your sandwich is growing icicles," I teased, amused when he glanced down to confirm my fib and then cut his gaze back up with a soft snort.

"You can sit, if you want." Cameron seemed hesitant as he offered, and I wasn't sure if it was because I was his professor and he thought he might be crossing a boundary or because he was hoping I'd just move on.

After momentarily wrestling with my own hesitation, I sat, easing the strap of my messenger bag from my shoulder and setting it gingerly next to me. I ticked my chin toward the sandwich. "I'm surprised you don't avail yourself of cafe leftovers. Don't you get an employee discount?"

"I do, but I've got this one roommate, Sam." He rolled his eyes, though there was affection in it. "He's on the football team. Massive guy, eats a ton. I'll bring home a bunch of leftover biscuits sometimes from breakfast shift, thinking they'll last us for days, and they're gone before noon. Usually because of Sam. His boyfriend, Jesse, my other roommate, is an awesome cook, but even he can't keep up with Sam's appetite. Jesse is tiny compared to Sam, and sometimes he'll try to give Sam a run for his money, especially on dress-your-dog night. It's fun to watch."

"Jesse's no Kobayashi, then?" I grinned, picturing it, and Cameron chuckled. "So, you and your roommates have food theme nights?"

"Not always, because we forget, but then Jesse will remember and come up with a theme. Dress your dog is one of his favorites. He lays out a bunch of different toppings. You can go Chicago style, Coney Island, New York, the works, and he will judge your choices as you go."

"God, makes my four years of dorm living and cafeteria shuffling as an undergrad sound extremely dull."

"Nah, I promise you I'm the dullest one of the bunch."

"Somehow, I doubt that." There was too much light dancing in his eyes and good humor in his grin for me to ever consider Cameron dull, and whenever he spoke in class, it was thoughtful and considered. He fascinated me, a feeling I'd not experienced with previous students. As pointless as it might be, considering I might never see him again once he completed my class, I wanted to know more about him. "Are Sam and Jesse your only two roommates?"

"Nope. There's Ansel—he's on the track team. Super focused but cool. And Mark. His boyfriend, Chet, might as well be our sixth roommate, though. He stays over a lot. That guy I sit next to in class?"

"The blond one with post-nut regret?"

Cameron barked out a surprised laugh and nodded. "That's Nate. He used to live in the house, but he got together with this other guy who used to live there, too, Eric, and they decided to live together for senior year."

"Wow." I blinked, struggling to keep all the threads connected. "Sounds like soap opera fodder."

"I know. It sounds batshit crazy, right? Tangled webs." He winced. "Sorry about the cursing. And the mixed metaphor."

"My ears will never be the same," I said drolly. Cameron's resulting smirk was beguiling against his crystalline eyes and golden hair in a way that prickled across the nape of my neck. I blinked away from it. The bathroom encounters with my stranger had apparently roused my libido far more than I'd wanted it to, into overstepping territory. Cameron was my student, not a hookup, and besides, the guy had a wholesome appearance that would probably frown on anything like anonymous glory holes. Something about the mischief in his smirk made me wonder, though. Christ, I needed to abandon that line of thought.

"I know it sounds ridiculous. Usually, I try to avoid explaining it. Sometimes I wonder what will happen when we leave, though, and new people move in. Is the house some kind of cosmic vortex of love?" He waved a hand in the air dismissively before I could reply. "Anyway, what I meant to say was I get plenty of food for free, but sometimes a simple sandwich is nice." He picked it up and took a bite, as if in demonstration. "Mmmm, icicle turkey. Divine."

"Hmm." I stared at the sandwich as it met his lips, thankfully barely noticing he had a really attractive mouth, as an idea tried to take shape.

"Hmm, meaning you don't like sandwiches? Just omelets?" he teased, lips curving upward.

"No, I…" I hesitated before deciding this counted as casual conversation. "My agent asked me for an additional chapter on decision fatigue for a book I'm working on, and I've been trying to figure out how to begin and what to include."

"And my turkey sandwich has enlightened you?"

"Possibly," I debated.

"Does that mean I automatically get an A on the final exam?" He waggled his brows, and I snorted.

"Not at all. It'd be the death of my credibility if I was that easy to win over."

Cameron's lips twitched. "I dunno. I get the idea you're not easily won over in general, despite how ‘cool' you seem in class. You grade hard, everyone knows that." He spoke around another bite of sandwich, which he then waved. "Glad my sandwich helps, though, I guess?"

"Ahhh, Grady! Just the man I'm looking for." Arthur Lingen's voice jarred me from the cozy bubble of conversation Cameron and I had created, leaving me mildly annoyed, though I wasn't sure why. I liked Arthur well enough, and he was an excellent academic, someone whose career I'd looked up to when I first started my tenure track here. I pasted on a smile and scooted over a bit. "Care to join us? Cameron is one of my students. We were discussing sandwiches and decision fatigue."

Arthur chuckled and shook his head. "Not a chance. Why don't we take it somewhere warmer and less—" He glanced around. "—winter-ridden. More academic. I want to pick your brain on something."

"Fair enough." I was reluctant to leave but had zero excuse to stay, so I stood, snagging the strap of my bag. "I've got a sudden craving for a turkey sandwich anyway." I winked at Cameron.

Arthur eyed the bag I was carrying with condemnation. "Still carrying that ratty thing. Maybe once your book is published, you'll finally indulge yourself in a proper Louis Vuitton."

"I don't know, I'm pretty attached to this one."

Movement in my periphery had me glancing back at Cameron to find him frowning, a muscle at his jaw fluttering like he was about to say something. Instead, his eyes met mine, and the expression smoothed out. "Thanks for the chat, Professor. Very enlightening."

I barely checked a double take as he parroted my previous words back at me. But despite his mild tone, I didn't miss the twinkle in his eye as he said it.

"You can't stay away, huh?"I glanced up, a grin forming on my lips at Cam's teasing tone as he came to a stop in front of my table. I'd finished at the gym a bit early, and it was the one weekday when I didn't have an 8:00 a.m. lecture. What I did have was a craving for the cafe's strong coffee. "I'd like to think it's my exemplary service." He flourished his fingers and bowed dramatically. "But let's be honest, it's probably the omelets."

"Maybe a bit of both." I tossed my menu aside. "I guess I don't have to bother to put in my order, huh? But can I get another water when you get a moment?" I indicated the empty water glass. I'd drained it the second I sat down.

"One sec." He whipped around and returned quickly with a full water pitcher, refilling my glass before he scrutinized me more thoroughly. "Maybe I should just leave it on the table?"

I laughed. "Do I look that parched?"

"Just a tiny bit sweaty." He pinched his thumb and forefinger together and then separated them slightly. "Must have been a good workout. Or else all the good campus parking is full for the day."

I touched the back of my hand to my brow. Still sweaty. "Maybe a bit of both," I volleyed back, and he laughed again, an easy, carefree sound that was infectious. I hoped his employers treated him well. He seemed like a phenomenal employee and was obviously a hard worker. "You're here a lot."

"Yep." He reached out and brushed a crumb from the table. "Lost my scholarship, so I need the hours and dough. It's a long story," he said before I could ask, and the way he averted his gaze kept me from pressing the issue, though I was curious. He was attractive, bright, and seemed to have a good heart. What had happened? He straightened and put his notepad back in his pocket, smile returning. "I'm gonna go get your order started. Give me the eye if you need anything else. I'll drop your coffee off in a sec."

True to his word, Cameron returned moments later with a steaming mug of coffee and creamer. I settled back in the booth, sipping the brew and tackling emails that had accumulated in my inbox overnight. My gaze occasionally flitted Cameron's way as he bustled to and from his other tables. Ten minutes later, he was sliding my usual omelet atop the table.

I murmured a thanks and offhandedly asked, "So what do you think of the class so far?" I checked a frown, wondering why I'd asked his opinion—something I'd never done before, never really had had any interest in doing before. For some reason, I was curious to hear his opinion.

"I really like it." He raked his teeth over his lower lip, trapping a smile. "It might be my favorite class this semester. I'm not even blowing smoke or trying to get brownie points."

"I'm not one to give brownie points for flattery." Though the compliment had an effect on me, regardless. I narrowed my eyes at him skeptically. "Wait, how many classes are you taking this semester? Just so I can properly judge how complimented I should feel."

"Full load. I'm behind and trying to catch up. Again, it's a long story."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

He shrugged. "I don't mind hard work."

"What about free time?" I gestured around to the tables of students chatting animatedly. "Student life? Partying? The typical college experience?"

"I've had enough free time and student life to last me for a while," he said cryptically. "I like working towards a goal, anyway. One of those things I recently figured out about myself. I'm not a big partier, but I get enough solo time."

"What's your major, if you don't mind me asking?"

He rested a hip against the booth bench across from me. "I started out as a business major because I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, and that seemed like a good catchall, but I switched to psychology. It may sound cheesy, but I want to try to help people figure out who they are, what they want out of life."

"Sort of like a life coach? Or more like therapy?" I perked a brow. I wouldn't have necessarily pegged him for that, but I couldn't see him as a business major either.

He ducked his head and ran a hand down his thigh, seeming a little sheepish. "Sort of like a life coach, yeah, but a little deeper. Not just, like, examining skill sets and helping people figure out what they should be doing in their career, but going farther back. Childhood, teens, figuring out what baggage they're carrying, things that might be holding them hostage without them realizing it."

"Sounds like you've got a bit of experience yourself with that."

"You could definitely make that assumption." He exhaled a quiet chuckle and then gestured to the steam rising from my omelet. "I'll leave you in peace with your omelet before it gets too cold. Back to check on you in a bit. Enjoy."

I kept an eye on him as he walked off, wondering if I'd pried too much and also determined that I should work harder to maintain a professional demeanor with him. He was still my student, after all, good rapport outside the classroom notwithstanding.

I dug into my omelet—perfect, as always—still scrolling idly through emails between bites when a message notification popped up.

A thrill curled around my stomach as I opened it.

Unknown:Hey. I'm just now seeing your message. I'm very interested, but I need to doublecheck my schedule. Can I get back to you later today?

Grady:Of course.

I'd messaged him asking if he'd be free for the upcoming weekend and interested in another tryst. I'd been thinking about it for days, despite telling myself I'd let more time elapse between our last encounter and the next. Something about the guy and our arrangement was proving more addictive than I'd anticipated. I even enjoyed the rather basic chats we had.

Unknown: Okay, great! I hope your day is off to a good start.

I could have left it at that. We were operating on a perfunctory basis, after all, but after a moment, I continued.

Grady:It's very nice so far, just enjoying breakfast and the strongest coffee east of Seattle before heading into work. Yours?

The bubbles appeared and disappeared several times, and I wondered whether he was having the same conversation in his head as I'd had.

Unknown:I'm already at work. It's shaping up to be an interesting day.

Grady:I hope the rest of it goes well. Also hope to "see" you soon.

When there was no further response, I tucked the phone away and polished off my omelet and coffee. Cameron was back at the table with my check before I could lift a finger to signal him. The cafe had gotten busier, and there was a crowd of people waiting just inside the door, and yet he still gave me the same unhurried smile as he set my check down.

"Whenever you're re?—"

"I'm ready." I extended a twenty. "Keep the change. It sure picked up, huh?"

"Usually does around this time." He took the bill and then seemed to register what it was. "Give me a second, and I'll get you change."

"Not necessary."

"Are you sure?"

"Keeps it simple." I smiled. "Besides, it's busy, and you're busting your tail. You've more than earned it."

His lips parted, and then he shook his head with a soft chuckle and tucked the bill in his apron. "Keep it simple. Alright. See you in class later." He spun around and walked away, leaving me again wondering over the shift in his demeanor.