Page 33 of The Swap Masquerade

I ran my fingers across my forehead. That was it. I definitely needed to talk to him. I grabbed my laptop and brought the class syllabus up so I could check his office hours. Perfect! He had hours right after class. I would go there and force him to tell me what was going on and if he still didn’t want to talk, I’d refuse to leave until he did. No matter how he felt about me, I still cared about him and if something was bothering him, particularly if he was hurting in some way, I wanted to know about it.

The room quieted down as he began class. “Good morning, everyone. I know it’s Friday and you’re probably all anxious to start the weekend, but we do have some important things to cover, so let’s dive right in, shall we?” A collective groan sounded around the room which brought a small grin to his face. “I know, I know, I’m terrible. You can tell me all about it in the class evaluations at the end of the semester. Until then, let’s get busy.” His statement was met with laughter and the sounds of a large group settling in.

I tried my best to pay attention and take notes during the lecture, but I kept getting distracted because even looking a bit rough around the edges as he did, the professor was still one of the sexiest men I’d ever seen. There was only one other man who could compare, but I refused to let myself think about him right then.

When he was finished with the lecture, Professor Holt opened the floor up for discussions on our projects. He leaned against his desk and crossed his arms as he looked out over the room. “So, how’s it going? Are you all happy with the organization you chose? Any surprises, good or bad?”

I listened as the other students shared stories about the work they were doing. Most seemed to be getting a lot out of the experience, stating how good it made them feel to be helping others. I understood that feeling because I’d experienced it myself. Every nail I’d hammered, every board set in place had filled me with a sense of pride, knowing I was helping someone in my community to have a better life.

“Yeah, well I thought I’d be spending my time playing with cute little puppies, but instead, I’m hauling out the garbage and cleaning up shi—um, I mean poop.” I recognized Brett’s voice immediately and rolled my eyes. He was a good guy, but he could be a real dick sometimes.

Professor Holt raised an eyebrow. “It surprises me that you have such a strong opinion. Especially considering you’ve only been there once. Let me remind all of you there is a twenty-hour minimum requirement for this project and only a few weeks left of class. If you’ve fallen behind, like Mr. Jacoby here, I suggest you figure out a way to get more hours in.”

I peered down a few rows to where Brett was sitting, surprised to see him actually blushing. “I’ll get it done. But seriously, man, how’d you even know? You keeping tabs on all of us?”

Professor Holt grinned. “Ahh. In the words of a very wise man, ‘I drink, and I know things.’”

Laughter echoed around the room, covering up the loud gasp that escaped from my lips and my fingers gripped the edge of the desk as my vision suddenly started to waver. I closed my eyes, concentrating on continuing to breathe, so I wouldn’t pass out. By the time I opened my eyes, most of the class was empty and Professor Holt was nowhere to be found.

Tossing my things into my bag, I bolted from the room and sprinted down the hall and into the nearest restroom. Inside, I checked to be sure there were no feet under the stalls and then I doubled over, clutching my knees and gasping for air. How could this have happened? And was it true? Was Professor Holt really the man I’d gotten to know as Tyrion?

I paced back and forth as I counted off the things I knew for sure. One; both men were incredibly sexy. Two; Professor Holt had the same hair color and scruff on his face as Tyrion. Three; they both liked to quote Tyrion Lannister. Four; the professor worked in the same small, closed-minded town I lived in. If he was gay, then he’d have to keep it under wraps which was why it would make perfect sense for him to attend parties where everyone wore masks.

I stopped pacing and my eyes grew round as a new thought popped into my head, something that hadn’t occurred to me until then. If Gavin and Tyrion were indeed the same person—and I was almost positive they were—then that meant…HOLY SHIT! I SLEPT WITH MY PROFESSOR!

I ran over to the row of sinks and splashed cold water on my face. After a few minutes, I started to regain some sense of control. My mind was still racing as I reached for a paper towel and dried my face, but it no longer felt like I’d been put through a spin cycle. Things were finally starting to make sense. The way I’d been inexplicably drawn to both of them, how my body responded to their touches no matter how innocent, how I’d been so sure I could trust each of them. Hell, they even had the same smooth, deep voice. I hadn’t been attracted to two different men. I’d been attracted to the same man.

I felt like an idiot for not putting it all together sooner, but the truth was I simply hadn’t seen the signs because I hadn’t been looking for any. And why would I? The entire point of my attending a swap masquerade was to not recognize anyone there and for them not to recognize me. I had no reason to think I’d meet—and end up sleeping with—someone I knew, much less my college professor.

The question was, did Gavin know? The answer was obvious. Of course, he knew. That’s why he’d been avoiding me. Gavin was a decent, honest man. He would never have slept with me, knowing I was a student, if he’d realized it was me. I had absolutely no doubt about that. So, he must have found out after we slept together. But when?

I thought back over that night. We’d both fallen asleep right after we came and by the time I woke up, he was already gone. I hadn’t heard from him since. Or at least not the Tyrion part of him. So, he had to have figured it out while I was sleeping. I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t been wearing my mask when I woke up. Guess that answers my question about whether it came off before or after he left.

I closed my eyes, imagining his reaction. He had to have been so shocked. Probably even more than I was. And being an ethical guy, he would have immediately felt guilty for having slept with a student. It was no surprise that he looked so haggard. He was probably expecting me to report him or something. The poor guy probably thought I was going to have him fired. I checked my watch. He still had thirty minutes of office hours before his next class. Plenty of time for me to get there and talk to him. I just needed to figure out what I was going to say.

* * *

I found Gavin’s office, located on the second floor of one of the main buildings. The nameplates outside each door showed several professors’ names, a few of which I was familiar with. There weren’t too many people in that area at that time of day, which worked out perfectly since I preferred privacy. Especially for this particular conversation.

Swallowing down my nerves, I knocked on the door. “It’s open,” he called. I pushed it open and stood there, waiting for him to look up from his computer screen. Finally, he glanced up, doing a double take when he realized it was me. He scooted his chair back and stood. “Oh, hey. I’m sorry. I was getting ready to leave for a class, but if there’s something you need, you can email me or get in touch with my T.A., Terran—”

“I don’t want to talk to your T.A. and I’d prefer to do this in person. Plus, you still have…” I glanced down at my watch to be sure. “Twenty-two minutes of scheduled office time left.”

His back stiffened and he clenched his jaw. I could practically feel the tension pouring off him. He nodded briskly. “Okay. Would you care to have a seat?” He gestured to the two seats positioned in front of his desk.

“Thanks.” I stepped in, shut the door behind me then took a seat.

“Is there a problem with your project you’d like to discuss?” His tone was much more formal than I’d ever heard it and I didn’t like it. I hated this tension and missed the easy way we usually interacted.

“Other than my work partner being absent lately, no. The project is going well.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I’ve had a lot going on lately and—”

I held a hand up to stop him. “Gavin, please.”

“It’s Professor Holt. I never should have told you to call me by my given name. It was unprofessional.” His words were delivered in a clipped fashion.

I snorted out a laugh. “Seriously? Was it any more unprofessional than kissing your student? Or, I don’t know, sleeping with him?”

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