Page 52 of Beautifully Complicated

“What about your wife?”

“Another female.”

“My dad?”

The two of us catch each other’s eye and crack up laughing. Dad is the only person in the house who can get away with ignoring my mom, which he does regularly since she likes to talk. God love her, but it’s hard to get a word in around the woman. You’re expected to listen intently, unless you’re my dad.

“Seriously, what’s the rush? And don’t tell me it’s work. You can’t bullshit a bullshitter. It’s a guy, isn’t it?” he asks as he reclines against the headboard and kicks his feet on the bed.

This is why I love Conor. There’s no drama. No judgment. Just support.

“Yeah, it’s a guy.”

“She’d probably understand that you know.” When I pack my pants instead of responding, he groans, “What aren’t you saying?"

“You can’t tell anyone.”

Conor rolls his eyes. “You’re not twelve anymore, A.”

“I know. But this is… In a few months it won’t be a big deal, but right now it is.”

“Right now it’s…” Conor’s face turns serious. “Tell me you’re not sleeping with your professor.”

“He’s not my professor.”

“Aiden.”

“He’s not. He’s my boss. Or mentor? You could make an argument for both I guess.”

Conor’s head thunks against the wall.

“And technically,” I continue, “he wasn’teitherthe first time we… The only time we… you know.”

“Let me get this straight.” Conor sighs. “You hooked up with a guy you didn’t know only to find out later he’s your new boss?”

“Technically, I did know him, although he didn’t know me. But yes, at that time neither of us knew I’d end up working for him.”

“Back up.” Conor shakes his head like that’ll somehow make the pieces fall into place. “How do you know someone that doesn’t know you?”

“He’s kind of famous. In certain circles.”

“Okay, I see how this goes. You get picked up by the celebrity and then have the misfortune of getting stuck working for him.”

“Technically, I did the picking up.”

Conor groans. “Are you or are you nottechnicallydating someone you’re not supposed to?”

“Actually, no. We won’t date until I graduate. He’s been very clear on that.”

“At least someone’s thinking with the head on their shoulders,” Conor mumbles.

“Hey, that’s—” my brother-in-law shoots me a wry look, so I finish that objection with “—fair.”

My brother-in-law shoots me a sly look before he abruptly stills. “How old is this guy? We’re not talking about gray hair, are we?”

“No! Of course not.”

“Well, he is a professor. Older or younger than me?”

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