Page 11 of Kiss and Make Love

“I know. But my cat, Roddenberry, ate my bird last week, and I had to have the vet extract him from his stomach. And then I had to have a funeral, but the dirt in my yard was too difficult to dig up, so I went to the park beside my house to dig a hole there, and someone called the police, and I was briefly arrested for vandalizing the park, but then?—”

Brett cleared his throat. “That’s a lot of information all at once, Llewellyn.”

“Yes sir, sorry. I’ve had a lot going on, and that was only last week. This week my neighbour Jerry started a fire when he tried to cook a steak in his toaster, and we had to call the fire department and?—”

“Llewellyn!” Spencer called out.

Llewellyn turned his attention to her, eyes going wide like a deer in headlights.

“Fucking cool it, man. Take a breath.”

“Right, yes, a breath.” Llewellyn took a deep breath in through his nose and exhaled loudly through his mouth.

“You can have an extension, but only until the end of the week,” Brett said. “I need it by this Friday. Theterm is almost over. Your program is almost over. This paper must be turned in to give you a final grade, and I want to pass you. You’re a dedicated student, Llewellyn.”

Spencer shook her head in disbelief. How could he be so patient with this walking asthma attack of a human being? It was like no one rattled him or got under his skin. He always gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. If it were her, she’d be exhausted. She already was exhausted, and she only had to deal with Llewellyn, not an entire class of future embalmers and whoever else he taught on the regular.

“Oh, thank you, Professor. Thank you! I will have it for you by Friday, I promise.” A grin took over his entire face, showing the gap in his front teeth. “I won’t let you down!”

“I look forward to reading it. I’m sorry about your bird. Losing a pet is never easy.” He placed a gentle hand on Llewellyn’s shoulder.

“It was, sir. Thank you. Jean-Luc Beakard has been properly laid to rest with the help of the Whitehill Police Department,” Llewellyn sniffed.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Brett said, his sincerity evident. “I’ll see you in class in fifteen, okay? Go use that time to work on your paper.”

“Yes, sir!” Llewellyn gave a brief salute, frowned at Spencer, and left the office in a full-out sprint.

Brett shut the door behind him and turned back to Spencer.

“Sorry about that,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “It was a good thing he interrupted when he did, though.”

“Why do you say that?” She knew exactly what the response would be but still wanted to hear it for herself.

“You’re still my student for three more weeks, Spencer. So I shouldn’t have said what I did. Last night or now.”

She clicked her tongue. “I figured that’s what you were going to say. You’re too good.”

Getting up from the couch, she grabbed her bag and made her way to the door where Brett was still standing.

“So, in twenty-one days, things could be different for you?” She was directly in front of him now. They were almost the same height when she had her platforms on. She could see right into his smokey grey eyes. Since when did she notice sappy shit like eye colour?

“In what way?” he asked.

“Meaning, in three weeks, I’ll no longer be your student, and you’ll no longer be my professor. So you could say anything you wanted to me then, right?”

“I can wait three weeks.” He took her hand in his own. “Can you?”

“Depends on what I’m waiting for. What is this to you?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, his brows pinching together.

She stared him down. “Well, is this going to be a quick fuck, or do you want it to be something more? It’s not like we know each other well. So what are we waiting for?”

Blunt. That was another word her mother used to describe her. Snippy and blunt. She didn’t mean to be an asshole, but she hated dancing around topics that were easier to understand if everyone was straight with each other.

“Well,” Brett started, dropping her hand to drag his own through his blond waves. “I like you. I know we don’t really know each other, but I like you.”

“Why? We couldn’t be more opposite,” she argued, gesturing to herself and then to him, not sure why she was putting up a fight.

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