Page 26 of Don't Fall

“You sure? I saw you sitting over here muttering to yourself. Seemed like you could use a set of ears to absorb some of what you’re putting out there.”

I didn’t realize I was talking to myself. God. What was I saying? And how loud was I saying it?

“You don’t feel like you’re breaking your own rule a hell of a lot this morning?”

“My rule?”

I sit up straight. He can’t be serious. “You know...the professor – student rule.”

His gaze drops to where his hands are folded over his legs. It’s like he has to think about the answer. Either he’s trying to hide his reasons for ignoring it, or he seriously forgot he ever came up with it.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be coming over here to talk to you.”

“Then why keep doing it?”

He shrugs. “I like talking to you.”

For some reason, this answer stumps me. Don’t get me wrong, I believe I provide very titillating conversation a great deal of the time, but I find it hard to believe it’s so great Lane would be willing to risk his job over it. Even if he isn’t in it for the long haul. This whole new life thing he’s going for should probably stick for longer than the summer.

“You like talking to me.”

“I like talking to you.”

“Even though I frequently say things to you like ‘fuck you’ and ‘you’re a dick’. If you enjoy that kind of conversation, you’re the one who needs therapy, buddy.”

He laughs, the same surprised laugh as before. “You may have a point there.”

I smirk smugly. “Well, obviously.”

He looks at his watch. “I better get going. I have a class.” He stands up and I almost follow his lead. I stop myself. I don’t want it to look like we’re going anywhere together.

“If you’re really that keen on talking to me, I’ll be having late night coffee out on the balcony again.”

“I’d like that.” He smiles. And I melt. Nine p.m. can’t come soon enough.

Lane

This teaching thing is suiting me better than I thought. If it wasn’t for the fact my father would likely disown me, I might even consider making the career change permanent. Provided I make it through Tessa’s graduation without getting myself fired for inappropriate relations with a student.

I pull into the apartment complex and park in my designated spot. Just as I’m getting out, I see the postal truck leave and realize I’ve yet to check my mail since moving in here. Not that I’m expecting much with most of my stuff still going to the house and all the bills on epay, but I probably have a stack of spam mail waiting for me by now I may as well clear out, so I set out to track down the mail room.

Following the sidewalk, I make my way around the community pool and past the gym. It’s wall to wall twenty-year olds all wearing barely there workout clothes, with the guys pushing themselves to their breaking point while the girls are doing just enough to look like they’re working out without actually breaking a sweat. I hate gyms. I keep in shape, but taking care of my body shouldn’t come at the cost of losing my mind, which I would, trapped in a sweatbox with those yahoos.

Still shaking my head to clear the sight of some guy’s forehead about to pop an artery from straining so hard, I finally locate the mail room. Unlike the gym, it’s completely abandoned.

I search for my apartment number while I fumble for the tiny key to open my designated slot as soon as I find it. Not much in there when I do. Still, the pet store coupon made it worth the trip. Now that Mr. Grey Cat officially lives with me, Tessa is bound to buy stuff like cat food.

“Hey, neighbor,” a sultry unfamiliar voice greets me. It’s not until I look up from my mail that I recognize her. She’s a friend of Tessa’s. Lives one level down from us. Last time I saw her, she was wasted. I’m surprised she even knows I live in her building.

“Hi, there.” I smile politely, tucking the envelopes into my bag and preparing to exit.

“Tessa said you’re a professor,” she continues to engage, putting a temporary stop to my plans.

“Yep.”

Her head tilts toward her left shoulder and her eyes turn doe-like as she pouts. “No fair. There weren’t any hot professors when I was still a student there.”

I chuckle, trying to avoid doing or saying anything that might make this awkward.

“Of course,” she drawls on, “I suppose if you were my professor, it would be really inappropriate for me to ask you out.”

I nod. Obviously. “Yeah, it would.”

She laughs, a sort of high pitched giggle that annoys far more than it entices. “Well, thank goodness I’m not a student anymore then!” She takes another step toward me, hand reaching out to land on my arm. She gives it a soft squeeze and murmurs her appreciation for my non-gym related muscles. “So, a bunch of us are going out tonight to this place called the Basement. They’ve got a great house band and the drink specials are insane. Plus, Tessa works there, so she’ll get us all in for free. What do say?”

I plan to say no. I’m not interested, and if Tessa is going to be there, I have no business going anyway. “Sounds great.” My mouth clearly has its own ideas.

“Yay!” She claps her hands together in excitement. “It’s going to be so much fun!”

Then she swirls around in a hurry, mumbling about what she will wear as she ditches me in the mail room. Unfortunately, it’s not until after she leaves in her cloud of perfume and giggles, that I realize, I still have no clue what her name is. And that’s not even my biggest problem.

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