Page 47 of Taming His Teacher

So I squeeze his hand and lay the other on top of his head, a strange benediction that ends when he lifts his gaze to meet mine. My fingers slip through his dark hair, landing limp on the bed.

“I’d like that.”

He smiles. Though it had made me feel oddly childlike, I hope against hope he’ll call me his pretty baby again. Instead he says, “Me, too, lamb,” and that’s just as good. He stays with me overnight again, always there when I wake with whatever I need: a glass of water, a cool washcloth for my pulse points, a strong arm around my waist to help me down the hall to my bathroom, and bowls of broth when I can stomach them.

I haven’t felt this cared for…ever. When Tilly comes to check on me the day after, she has a sly look on her face.

“Say it, Aunt Tilly.”

I’m sitting up, propped against some pillows, and she’s got a couple of fingers at my wrist to take my pulse. It’s slower and steadier since the last time I saw her.

“Hmm?” Her dark brown eyes flicker up to mine and she looks at me, innocence personified. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’ve got something to say, so out with it.”

She sighs as if I’ve asked her to reveal top-secret information, but then she smiles, taking her fingertips from my wrist. “Pulse is much better. You’re much better.”

I narrow my eyes. “Seriously.”

“I remember how he used to look at you, Erin. And of course there was nothing to do about it when he was a student. I know nothing happened between the two of you when he was. But he’s not a student anymore. For the past four months, I’ve watched you two fumble around this nonsense like two incredibly incompetent jugglers. So maybe it’s time to give it a try.”

“You— You think this is okay? I want to be with him, so much. But I’m worried what everyone’s going to say. I mean, he was my student, and after Will—”

She lays a hand on my shoulder and it silences me. I hadn’t honestly thought all that much about the repercussions of being with Shep because the obstacles had seemed so insurmountable. But now it seems like it might be happening.

“Did you know that when Uncle Rett and I got married, it would’ve been illegal in sixteen states? I’m not so impressed when it comes to what other people have to say about love.”

I’d forgotten about that. It seems so ridiculous that anyone could not want them to be together just because they don’t have the same color skin. They’re so perfect for each other, their love practically drips off them. They’re so sweet it’s almost sickening. Almost. Aunt Tilly gives my shoulder another squeeze and smiles.

“It’s not going to be easy. There’s going to be talk. It could get ugly. I’m not saying that to scare you off, but I want you to know what you’re heading into. You’ve got the softest heart, Erin. It’s been bruised enough for one lifetime. I hate to see it get hurt any more, but I think you’re meant to be together and the sooner you all give up and give in, the better off you’ll be.

“Zach Shepherd is crazy about you. He made me promise to wait here until he got back so you wouldn’t be alone. So don’t mess this up, all right? I believe the universe is a benevolent place, but even she only gives so many chances.”

Oh my. What am I supposed to say to that? I have no faint clue so I let her fuss over me until I hear the door to my apartment open and shut. That’ll be Shep. As if to answer my unspoken question, his broad shoulders fill my doorway and we smile at each other.

Shy, knowing smiles.

Chapter 15

Shep

The next day, Erin looks a million times better. She’s gotten out of bed, washed her hair. I even heard her humming in the shower. She’s gotten dressed, too, in those stretchy pants that fold over at the waist and the sweatshirt that will never not make me remember her dancing.

She made us oatmeal this morning and we sat across the table from each other, having some ridiculous stilted conversation about our classes and department gossip. Word has it Dan might be leaving in the spring, which would open up the department Chair. I told her she should try for it. She’d shaken her head and waved her hands. “I can’t. I have a hard enough time managing the boys, never mind you people.”

But now the dishes are washed and put away and we’re standing in her kitchen, not knowing what do to with ourselves. We’re supposed to talk. I want to talk to her, but I don’t know where to start. Besides, she looks tired.

“Do you want to go back to sleep? I know you’re feeling better but you should take it easy.”

She presses her lips between her teeth and looks at me through her lashes. “I thought…I thought we could talk first. You said you’d let me know you. I want to know you.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” Anxiety flits in my stomach. What if after I’ve told her, she never wants to talk to me again? But, what if she does? It’s a risk I’ve promised her I’d take. I steer her to the couch and sit on one side. I expect her to take the other, but she sits close, tucking up her feet and tugging down a blanket from the back of the couch to wrap herself in. It’s like story time, but this is no fairy tale. But because I think it will make her laugh, I begin, “A long time ago…”

I’m right. Her eyes light up and she giggles. “How long ago?”

“About four years ago. In a land far, far away…”

“Called Evanston?”

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