Almost two weeks had gone by since we last spoke at Halloween. He was mad at me, and I understood he needed space. I needed the same, not because I was angry, but because spending time with him would weaken my resolve. I had been doing so well. I certainly did not need him to waltz in here and continue to turn my world upside down.
“Twenty-two thousand, actually,” I called out as if it was perfectly normal to have a famous hockey player answer questions about earthworms in my auditorium.
“Sorry, Doc. I forgot how precise you like it.”
The entire lecture hall of forty-three students in my Animal Biology II class turned at that excessively familiar tone. The whispers started immediately.
“I think we can end this a couple of minutes early. Don’t forget that your papers on your choice of Annelid and its distinct characteristics are due on Friday at 5pm. No exceptions. And of course, it would be lovely if some of you chose the less common of the species. Leeches are very interesting to this professor!”
Jason worked his way down the steps, while the students gawked and nudged each other. Just watching how he commanded the room as he descended had my heart beating wildly.
Like he belonged to me.
But that wasn’t true. Could never be. Jason and I might be sexually compatible but that was where the chemistry ended. We had shared something special in that hotel room, an experience that produced a child and that I would treasure forever. But I couldn’t let the emotions of that play into how I felt about him. There was too much at stake.
The students were slow walking their way out of the auditorium, partly because class had ended a couple of minutes early, but mostly because of fascination with my visitor. He nodded at a couple of them. One stepped forward as he made eye contact—Bella Corbin, a very pretty blonde.
Not that her prettiness or blondness had anything to do with it. Perhaps I was sensitive because she was similar in appearance to the woman photographed with Jason in that bar in Dallas over a week ago.
“Hi, Mr. Isner, I’m a huge fan.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.” Barely looking at her, he carried on until he reached the floor. Bella looked like she was about to swoon as one of her friends elbowed her to make tracks. A couple of students stopped to ask me questions about the essay and how “hard” the submission date was. While I wanted to answer—“What about ‘no exceptions’ is so difficult to understand?”—Jason signed a couple of autographs, even using the inside cover of Smith and McGowan’s Animal Biology textbook.
Finally, we were alone.
“Didn’t know you were such an expert on Annelida,” I murmured as I tidied up, anything to occupy my shaking hands.
“Wikipedia is my friend, though I’m sure you don’t approve.” He leaned against the podium as I shuffled my notes. “Is it true you can cut an earthworm in half and get two living worms?”
“That’s a myth. Depending on where the cut is made, the worm may be able to regenerate part of its body. But you won’t get two independent, living entities.”
“Always learning, Doc.”
That was me, the egghead educator.
“Why are you here?” It came out sounding a little brusque.
“We haven’t talked in a while. Except for a few texts.”
“Which I’ve answered.”
He folded his arms across that expanse of chest that made a great pillow. It shouldn’t have. It should have been hard and unyielding, yet my memory of lying there was indescribably fond.
“Single word answers. How are you? Fine. Anything I can do for you? No. Do you hate my guts? Probably.”
I gathered up my papers. “You never asked that last question.”
“What would you have said if I did?”
“I don’t hate anyone.”
“So a multiple word answer.”
“I’m not going to apologize for giving you the freedom to date whomever you like.”
He looked up at the ceiling, then down again. “That’s not what our fight was about, Doc, and you know it.”
“You shouldn’t have called me that in front of the students. It sounded too familiar.”
