29. Ronan

School has started. And Fletcher is in my classroom right now, giving me those flirty little looks. He shouldn't be in here. We shouldn't be this close at all. It doesn't matter that he's not enrolled in one of my classes. I'm still a professor, and he's currently a student.

But I couldn't bring myself to end things last night.

Not after sitting and talking with his siblings. Not after watching murder docs and then switching over to cheesy slasher flicks they seem to really love, even though they mocked it the entire time.

Listening to the way they are together. To their stories. It was enchanting. I think I'm in love with the entire family, and I've only met each of them once. I'm lost and so damn confused about what to do.

I know I need to end it. That if I don't, it won't end well, but I'm terrified to let him go. I don't want to let this feeling go. Not even for the beautiful security my career allows.

"Fletcher... this is a bad idea." The door is closed but not locked, and the shade is drawn. But still, it's the first day of classes, and the hallways are flooded with students.

"I just wanted to tell you to have fun today. Even though I won't be in your class."

I smile at that. Look how far we've come. "Whatever will I do without you coming in late and being disruptive?"

"You loved it," he says, his face so damn close to mine. God, I want to kiss him. I want to kiss him and never stop kissing him.

I love you.

The words ring in my head over and over. I want to say them. I barely hold them in as I breathe in his clean scent and look at his intoxicating grin.

"Okay, fine. I guess I should get to class," he says, his eyes bright, and maybe this will be okay. He has what—three years left as a student. We could do this. No big deal. We haven't been caught yet.

I'm not ready to let him go.

He leans in, and I go ahead and do the same, letting my lips briefly touch his, but it's not enough. It's never enough with him. Damn it.

The kiss intensifies more quickly than I mean for it to, but I don't release him. His hand goes to the back of my hair and clenches tight, holding me there, but then my entire world starts to spin, and I nearly collapse when I hear a deep voice behind me.

"What is going on here?" Dean. It's the dean. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I can't move, but Fletcher is fast and pulls out of my hold. His wide eyes meet mine first and then the dean's. My boss. This is so not happening. It can't be happening.

How could we be so damn stupid and careless?

"I um..." Fletcher looks so damn lost and scared. I want to say something. Anything to make it better, but I'm just stuck. Crippled by my worst nightmare being a reality. "I'm so sorry, Professor Barlowe."

Wait—what? I just stare at him.

He looks over at the Dean. "I'm so damn sorry, sir. That shouldn't have happened. Professor Barlowe was just being kind and directing me to my class. I got a little turned around."

Where the hell is he going with this?

Dean McKay seems to be thinking the same thing. "How did that lead to you kissing?"

Holy shit, the dean of the college saw me kissing a student. There's no denying that's what was happening. None. I'm so fired.

"I had a class with him last semester and knew he'd help me," Fletcher starts, and I just stand there, stunned stupid and silent. "But I also sort of had like a little crush on him." My eyes widen in his direction, and I shake my head, but he just barrels on, only looking over at the dean. "I guess when he was so nice to me today, I decided to shoot my shot, but he was about to push me away just as you entered. It was so damn stupid, and I'm so sorry."

I shake my head again at him, trying to get him to look at me. I don't want him to take the fall for me. That's not okay.

I want to scream that it's a lie. That I kissed him, and I've been doing a hell of a lot more with him all summer. That I had plans to do more with him tonight after school too.

"Is that so?" I hear Dean McKay ask.

"It is," Fletcher says, and I want to both kiss and strangle him at the same time. He cannot do this. "And if you need to suspend me, I understand. I know that was totally out of line, but like I said, it was all me. Professor Barlowe never even gave me any indication that he wanted me, and I know he'd never do that. It was all me."

"No," I say quickly, the thought of him being suspended from college enough to finally light a fire under me and make me speak up. "That's not..."

Fletcher's gaze snaps to mine, and he gives me a hard look, telling me to shut up.

"Well, as long as this never happens again, young man. I don't have to tell you that I really could suspend you for this behavior," Dean McKay says. "You should head out of here. Go to class. Do you know where you're going now?"

"It won't ever happen again. It was a mistake." I want to puke. I want to scream, it wasn't a mistake as Fletcher nods his head exuberantly. "Uh, yeah. I think so. Um, I'm sorry again, Professor Barlowe." He's not acting. His eyes are pleading with me to realize just how sorry he is, and I know. I'm sorry too. I don't want to let him take the fall for me. But I can't seem to get any more words out before he leaves my classroom, giving me one last longing look before he exits.

My chest hurts from holding my breath as I look at my boss. "Sorry about that, Ronan. Apparently, you're the hot professor around here. Don't think this is the first time I've heard of a student crushing on you." He pats me roughly on the shoulder, and I wince. Not from the contact but because of his words. I don't want Fletcher compared to other students.

I don't like the dean thinking he's just a silly young boy with a fleeting crush.

That's not what this is. That's not what we are.

"But you can't put yourself in that position, Ronan. You know you can't. What if it would have been anyone else walking in on this? What if someone snagged a video? That could have been very bad for your career. I'd have had to let you go. You know the way we're being watched right now with the Rhonda Tuttle scandal."

Again. I might lose my breakfast. If he only knew the truth, he'd be firing me right now, but he's not. Because of Fletcher.

Because he's selfless and caring and good. He could have lost his education for me. And whether he thinks it's important or not, I can't let him risk his academic future like that. How many foster kids grew up wanting exactly what he has? He may say that's not important, but I know it is. I know he feels guilt because he was rescued, and he doesn't think he had much to do with it, but he got himself to college.

I won't let him lose it.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again," I say.

"Good. You're special, Ronan. I could sense it the first time we met, and I don't want to lose a good professor like you."

He pats me again, and I grit my teeth as he leaves my classroom. I go to sit down at my desk, running my fingers through my hair as the adrenaline from being caught starts to fade, and I'm left just feeling empty.

It was so stupid to get caught like that. I know better.

Or I thought I did.

But when it comes to Fletcher, I'm learning I'm not really all that damn smart.

And I can't keep risking this.