Page 19 of Don't Fall

His brow furrows. “I didn’t say either of those things. I said you were independent. Covered your ass. And I didn’t just get that from the apartment. I figured that out the moment you were charging at me, umbrella swinging at my head. You could have bolted at the sight of a strange man in your home. Could have ran across the hall to get help. You didn’t. Didn’t even occur to you. Because you were ready. That umbrella wasn’t sitting in that corner, stashed out of sight in case of rain, it was there in case you ever needed it to bash someone’s head in. Not an ideal weapon of choice, by the way, but I can see why you chose it.” He folds his arms over his chest to finalize his point. “Like I said. Depend on no one, leave nothing to chance.” Then he leans in closer. “But since you brought it up, want to talk about those commitment issues?”

“No!” I huff, forcefully shoving my way into the opposite end of the hammock only to have gravity send me toppling back into the middle and damn near into his lap. “What I want, is for you to stop psychoanalyzing me. You’re my roommate. Not my therapist.”

“Who’s psychoanalyzing? I’m just trying to get to know you, given the whole living situation that just seems like the civilized thing to do.”

I twist my mouth back and forth thinking about this. It doesn’t seem that simple from where I’m sitting. “You’re also my professor. How much forthcoming and getting acquainted do you suppose will keep us within the realm of an ethical teacher student relationship? I mean, we can’t become friends.”

He shakes his head. Clearly, he agrees. “We blasted through the ethical realm straight into inappropriate dimensions the second you saw me naked.”

Okay, maybe I don’t read him quite as well as he reads me.

Not agreeing. Not at all.

“There’s no coming back from that,” he continues, “but not to worry, I have a plan.”

“You do?”

“Yep. To offset the seriously weird and way too intimate ways in which we already know each other, I will simply ignore you the instant I step on campus.”

Now I really can’t read him. Is he being serious? “You’re my teacher. You can’t ignore me. You’re not screwing me on my education just because you can’t sleep in pajamas.”

“Oh!” He gapes at me, pointing accusingly. “What about you?! Miss half-naked in a towel?”

I suck in my upper lip and bite it, temporarily facing defeat. “Not the same. Half-naked is totally different from completely naked.”

“As is busting in versus being busted in on.” Lane’s accusing finger is less assertive now, it’s more upright, supporting his argument rather than threatening to stab me in the eye with it. There’s also less shock to be found in his expression. Mostly, he’s just back to enjoying himself. Which would be annoying if I wasn’t grinning from ear to ear myself. This banter is fun. Probably too much so. Case and point, being student and teacher may become a problem after all if we start busting out with private jokes in the middle of class, especially any that involve nudity.

“Seriously, though.” It’s not easy making my face match my words, but I do the best I can. “What’s the plan? I need a plan.”

“Yes, we know.” His mouth quirks at the corners, but he gets it under control before I have to fake being offended again. “How’s this? You avoid the front row from now on and pick a spot in the back somewhere. Obviously, you can talk to me when class is in session, but outside of a polite nod hello if we cross paths, there isn’t any rule that says we have to interact for you to get a proper education.”

There’s really no reason to object to this. No legitimate reason anyway.

His elbow nudges my side, getting my attention. “What?”

My brows rise innocently. “What, what?”

A subtle headshake occurs before he answers, “You know what. What don’t you like about my plan?”

I inhale deeply, making one last attempt to keep in what should really be kept in, and then I exhale, letting it out anyway. “I don’t want to sit in the back.”

“How did I know that was it?!” He throws his head back, slapping his knee.

“Because your handy-dandy psychology superpowers told you so?” Am I trying to be cute? Am I freaking trying to flirt?! Why would I do that?

“You can sit in the back, Tessa. Know why? Because you’re not going to miss anything, even from the last row. And, if you do, guess what? You live with your professor! You can get one on one time over coffee on the balcony every night if you need it.”

“Every night? Wow, one of us doesn’t plan to have much of a life this semester.”

There’s an exasperated intake of air and a playful jab at my knee. “And one of us, really can’t be pleased.”

I give in. It’s time. I put up a good fight and I got more than enough to count it a win. “I’ll sit in the back. But, if my studies suffer for it, I’m blaming you.”

“I expected as much.”

I nod, solidifying the agreement. “Well, on that note, I should probably get to bed. I’ve got a long day tomorrow, and none of my other professors have agreed to private tutoring on my balcony as of yet.” Slipping out of the hammock as gracefully as I can while also holding an empty mug in one hand is not an easy feat.

“Hey, it’s just the first day of school. Give it time. There may be other naked teachers lurking, waiting to be clobbered and subsequently talked into private tutoring that you don’t know about yet.”

---