“Feels like anything’s possible in your twenties. You’re healthy, you’re skinny, your life is justburstingwith potential.” She sighs happily, but her eyes are sad as she takes another sip. The surprise on her face when she realizes her glass is empty is almost comical.
“It’s so easy to resent them,” she murmurs bitterly. “I was watching them holding hands in my office and I wanted to tell them to enjoy it because it’ll never be better than this. But if there’s one thing I learned, it’s that ignorance truly is bliss.”
“Them?” My own empty glass is warm to the touch. I’m tempted to get a refill, but the last thing I want to do is reminisce.
Yolanda’s eyes focus on me. “Lee and that Jordan boy.” She seems to snap back to the moment, flicking her hand at the wrist. “You probably haven’t read the email yet. You’ll need to find another T.A. Jordan has officially resigned.” Her lips quirk into a sardonic smile. “Two Jordans in two years. You do love your symmetry, don’t you, Bastian?”
Kairesigned?
My mind is spinning, and I fucking hate that those two can knock me off axis without even being in the same room.
I’ve spent the past week methodically driving a wedge between Kai and Haven when I wasn’t…busy with other things. Itailored every message I sent Kai to remind him of what I have, what I know, what I can do. What hedoesn’t, what hecan’t.That unyielding pressure was designed to make him paranoid, possessive, volatile.
He should be pushing Haven away.
She should be running to me.
Instead, they’re holding hands on campus like they’re in a fucking romantic comedy.
“Bastian.”
I refocus.
Yolanda is watching me with what appears to be concern. But if there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s making someone think she’s giving them what they want.
It was how she survived being married to a narcissistic for over a decade.
It’s how she gets whatshewants.
She reaches across the table, her fingers brushing mine. “I know you weren’t close with your mother, but maybe you should see someone. Her death is obviously affecting you more than you realize.” Her thumb strokes across my knuckles.
The touch is calculated. As is the lowered voice. That little frown between her brows. She wants me to fold into her, let her console me.
A few months ago, I might have let her.
But then I met Haven.
I withdraw my hand as gently as I can. “It’s best we keep our relationship professional. Like you said, neither of us can afford another scandal.”
Her face cycles through surprise, confusion, then annoyance, which suggests wounded pride.
“Professional,” she says through a most unprofessional snort.
“It’s for the best.”
“Un-fucking-believable.” She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Fine, Bastian. Let me beveryprofessional then.” She tops up her wine, refusing eye contact as I’m made to wait on her yet again. When she finally looks at me, there’s a hard set to her mouth.
“Get your shit together, Professor Rooke. One more complaint—” she holds up a finger like I’ve lost the ability to fucking count “—onemore, and you’ll be cleaning out your office.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Which is strange because I’ve turned off almost all my notifications. All except?—
I pull my phone out, glancing at the screen.
Fuck.
“—are you even listening to me?”
I’m already standing. “I need to go.”
