Page 52 of Forbidden Professor

Carter stops. He turns to face me. His expression softens. “Eve, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone but yourself.”

I meet his gaze. His sincerity catches me off guard. “Easy for you to say. You’ve already made it.”

He shakes his head, his smile wry. “Imposter syndrome never goes away. But you learn to silence it. You learn to trust yourself.”

We keep climbing, his words lingering in my mind. Even someone like Carter struggles? Seems impossible. Knowing that makes my fears feel smaller.

“All right, Professor Wisdom,” I tease, “what’s the secret to balancing it all?”

Carter strokes an imaginary beard. “The key is... dance parties in your living room.”

I trip over a root. “I’m sorry, what?”

He grins, that boyish charm in his smile making me laugh. “Nothing beats stress like dancing to your favorite songs. Bonus points if you crank the music up so loud that the neighbors complain.”

The mental image of Carter doing this sends me into giggles. Or it would, if I could breathe that easily. “Please tell me there’s video evidence.”

“Absolutely not,” he says, mock-serious. “Classified information.”

Our laughter fills the forest as we reach the ridge, and the view takes my breath away. We move toward the clear spot in the tree line. Carter’s hand rests lightly on my back as we climb down onto the rocky outcropping. Below us, the Puget Sound stretches endlessly. The water shimmers in the late afternoon sun, painted gold and pink. In the distance, Seattle’s skyline looks small and fragile.

“It’s incredible,” I whisper.

Carter smiles. There’s warmth in his eyes that makes my chest tighten. “This is my favorite spot. I come here when I need to reset.”

We sit on a flat rock, our legs dangling over the edge. The scent of the sea mixes with the earthy smell of the forest. It feels like the world has stopped. Only the sound of seagulls and waves fills the air.

“My dad used to bring me here,” Carter says quietly, his gaze fixed on the horizon. I glance at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. “Before he left, I mean.”

I want to comfort him, but I stay quiet, sensing that he needs to speak.

“He was gone more than he was around,” Carter says, his jaw tightening. “Always chasing the next big deal. But when he did take me hiking… those were the best days of my childhood.”

“What happened?” I ask softly.

He runs a hand through his hair. “He died a few years ago. It was a heart attack, totally out of the blue. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye or anything.”

I ache for him. Without thinking, I take his hand. “I’m so sorry, Carter.”

He squeezes my fingers and gives me a small, sad smile. “It’s okay. I’ve made peace with it. Mostly. But being here… it’s like he’s still with me.”

I nod, understanding the bittersweet pull of memories.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m living up to his legacy,” he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. “He was larger than life. Always pushing boundaries. And here I am, playing it safe.”

“Hey,” I say firmly, turning to face him. “You inspire future doctors. That’s not playing it safe. That’s making a difference.”

Carter looks at me, gratitude softening his expression. “Thank you, Eve. I needed to hear that.”

We sit there as the city fades into the distance. His hand stays in mine, a comforting presence. For the first time in a long time, I let myself see him. Not just as my professor, but as a man with his own fears and dreams. And in that moment, overlooking the Sound, I realize I’m falling for him. Hard and fast.

God, I need to pull it together. Say something, anything that doesn’t hint at the turmoil inside.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone,” I say softly, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “My mom died, too. She understood me in a way no one else did. When she was gone… it felt like this huge void opened up. My dad tried, but we couldn’t connect the same way.”

“Do you miss her a lot?” he asks.

I bob my head. “It’s like I’m carrying her with me.” My voice lowers. “…sometimes I wonder if she’d be proud of me.”

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