Page 72 of Bad Professor

My friends are my family. There’s no way I want Tilly anywhere near my parents and various step-parents. Meeting Max and Nick might have been scary for Tilly, but both of them have fallen under her spell as easily as I have.

Not exactly the same way, though.

“I don’t know,” Tilly hesitates. It’s one of the rare nights we’re at my apartment. I’m making her Pad Thai as she works on her essay on the evolution of Taylor Swift’s revenge songs.

I never help her with her papers; not that I need to. Tilly is an excellent writer. She’s in the top five of the class, behind Uber-geek Casey Fallon, whose life revolves around fantasy novels and has no social life, and brilliant Simu Leong whose prose about anything is music to my ears.

Sometimes I feel bad about taking marks off Tilly’s assignments, but that would be crossing the line.

There are only three more classes until the end of the semester. I’m not crossing anything until after that.

“I think we should wait until we’re more serious,” Tilly says. “I don’t want to confuse them.”

“I’m falling in love with you, Tilly. How much more serious do you want me?” I say it off-handedly while I add the peanut sauce to the frying pan. I say it like I’ve said countless times before.

I haven’t. That’s the first time in two months that either of us has mentioned the L word.

When I glance over, Tilly is staring at me, her mouth open in a little O. “Yeah.” My shoulders slump. “I said it.”

“What did you say?” she whispers.

“You heard me.”

“I want to hear it again. Dexter.” She claps her hand over her mouth, eyes shining with…

Maybe. Just maybe.

“Tilly.” With a shaky sigh, I give the pan a last stir and turn down the heat. “You know how I feel.”

“I really don’t, Dexter. I know we’re having fun and things are amazing, but… I know you like me,” she prompts.

Why do I have to do this first? Why is it always the man? “I more than like you,” I admit slowly. “I don’t do this will girls I just like.”

“Do what?”

“This. With you.” I move to her at the table, cupping her cheek. “I’m falling in love with you, Tilly.”

She clutches my hand. “Oh.”

“That’s all you want to say?

The laugh bubbles out of her like a stream after a spring thaw. “I’m already in love with you, Dexter.”

My heart stutters before revving into high gear. Shelovesmeshelovesme echoes in my head like a song on repeat. “Yeah?”

Tilly’s eyes shine with tears and her smile—she looks so happy and I’m the one who did that. I made her happy. I make her happy.

And she makes me love her.

“I love you,” she says. “I’m in love with you and I didn’t mean to be. I thought it was fun and games—”

“It has been a lot of fun and games and what did you mean you didn’t want to fall in love with me?”

“Not that I didn’t want to,” she corrects. “I didn’t think it was possible. I thought I was loved out, but now I’m in love with you. Tears drip down her cheeks, but she’s still smiling. I brush away her wetness. “What am I supposed to do about that?”

“Just love me. Because I love you, too.”

“Don’t hurt me, please,” she begs. “Because I don’t think I could bear that.”

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