Page 63 of Beautifully Complicated

“He’s your professorandyour boss. The one you went to hear speak. Him?”

“Technically, he’s not my professor.”

“Technically, I’m not gay, but I’m still dating a man,” he fires right back.

“What’s your point?”

“No one will give a shit that’s nottechnicallyyour professor.”

“Why do you think we’re keeping it a secret?” I throw my hands up.

“Okay, fair.” Bennet pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s fighting a headache. “How does something like that even happen anyway? He works at the school, is he just perving on the students?”

The glare I send Bennet’s way has him shrinking in his chair. “No, he isn’t perving on the students. We randomly met after his speech in Denver, hooked up before either of us knew he’d end up working here, and got the shock of our lives when I reported to his office and found him there.”

Bennet whistles in a way that sort of sounds likewhewalthough it’s not in relief. More likedayum.

“Am I allowed to ask what the plan is here? I mean, I assume you wouldn’t risk fucking him if it’s not serious.”

“I’m not fucking him. Not currently.” If I thought Bennet looked shocked before that’s nothing compared to his expression now, jaw hanging to the floor as he just stares vacantly at me. “We’re together but nottogetherwhile I’m his assistant.”

“So all the time you spend working you’re actuallyworking?”

“Mostly. Sometimes we just talk. He made me Thanksgiving dinner and we had a picnic at the computer lab. And I took him sledding last night since he lives in Colorado now and needed to get out in the snow.”

“I can’t decide if thetogether not togethermakes things more or less serious.” Bennet really does look like his head might explode. Secret fucking he gets, secret talking he doesn’t.

Actually, when I put it that way, I’m not sure I get it either. We’re justtalking. Mostly. If we’re going to sneak around like we’re doing something wrong, maybe we should be doing something wrong.

“More serious. Definitely more,” I say, because otherwise, we’re abstaining for nothing. Not that our careers are nothing, but right about now I’m less concerned about that since he has a plan where we get to make our own rules.

“Yeah, I guess things would be pretty serious if you’re waiting for each other instead of breaking the rules. Although I’m still not clear on what rule you’d actually be breaking. If he’s not your teacher, I mean.”

I worry my lip while searching for the right words. “It’s more the perception of favoritism or special treatment people might assume I get if I’m dating an expert in the field I want to enter.”

“You’re dating who?”

I whip my head around just in time to see Damien strolling into the kitchen. He steps behind Bennet, nuzzles his neck until Bennet—smiling begrudgingly—shrugs to dislodge him, and chuckles as he grabs the protein powder and milk.

“Well?” Damien asks.

“It’ll stay in the house,” Bennet assures me.

“A guy who works at the university,” I tell him.

“His boss,” Bennet adds.

“The hottie from karaoke?” Damien halts mid-pour and almost spills the milk. “Nice.”

“How do you know that’s my boss?” I ask.

“Excuse me?” Bennet narrows his eyes at Damien.

“What?” Damien asks him before turning to me. “Bennet told me you work for him.”

“You can’t look at other guys.” Bennet glares at Damien.

“I wasn’tlooking,looking. I was observing. And I observed that that guy was hot.” He turns to me and winks. “Scandalous.”

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