Page 37 of Riptide

I wince and can hardly meet her eyes when she groans.

“Finn Silas James!” she hisses.

“Don’t full name me. I’m an adult.”

“You’d better fix whatever just transpired between you two. He’s going to be teaching me advanced calc next year and I don’t want any awkwardness.”

But my thoughts are already racing, heat prickling under my skin. I don’t have time to worry about my sister’s issues when Foxx thinks Rosie is mine, and I can’t do anything about it, because I’m about to become Uncle Finn for the next five hours, at least.

Chapter sixteen

Foxx

Idon’tstopwalkinguntil I’m two blocks away. Even then, it doesn’t feel far enough.

It’s not bad enough that I’ve spent the entire weekend mulling over if I should go there with a student. Or that every time I’ve wanted to give in to the desire and message him, I somehow managed to stop myself. Sleeping with Finn wasn’t going to be a good idea again, and now this? I don’t even know what to think. My body is still in flight mode, my heart hammering against my ribs, my lungs tight, like I’ve just sprinted up a hill. But it’s not the cold air burning my throat, it’s the realization sinking in, deep in my stomach like a weight I don’t know how to get rid of.

Finn has a family. The thought alone makes me stop in my tracks. The guy I slept with and planned to sleep with again, has a kid, and his partner is a student at my full-time job.

I drag in a slow breath. Try to steady myself. But no matter how many times I go over it in my head, I land in the same place.

Finn holding a baby. Standing next to Daphne James. Last year, she was always first in class and willing to learn, wantingextra work. Is she his wife? Girlfriend? Fuck, of course this is happening. And I—what? I was some stupid mistake he made behind closed doors? Some reckless bad decision that he wanted to keep hidden? Maybe he just wanted a guy to hook up with.

My stomach twists. God. That’s a sobering thought.

WasI just some secret he was keeping? I can’t be on that side of it, I can’t. I won’t be the reason someone cheats, not when I know how soul crushing that is.

My mind replays everything. Our first messages. His teasing, how he liked getting a reaction out of me, how non-committal he was all the time, and I found that alluring. I think about that night, when I nearly talked myself out of it, when I almost told him no. But then Finn had been there, had looked at me like I was something he wanted, had kissed me with everything he had, and I’d let myself believe it was real. Or maybe I just wanted to. Maybe I was just the distraction he needed from his family.

I groan, pressing my fingertips to my temples. This is why I don’t do this. This is why I keep my life simple, why I don’t get involved. I hate being out of control, because this mess, this gut-punch of a feeling sitting in my chest? This is what happens when you let your guard down.

But the last time, it was me who was left behind. Me in Daphne’s position. Me who was left with nothing but an apology note on a pillow from someone I thought who loved me. I know what it’s like to be the one waiting for answers that never come. The one who trusts someone, only to find out they were never really yours to begin with. I know the sting of being lied to, led on, made to feel like you mattered, only to realize you were just a detour.

And now, I might have just done that to someone else’s family.

I drag in a shaky breath, nausea curling in my gut. Had he been with me while she was home with their baby?

Willing that image to disappear, I squeeze my eyes shut.

I dig into my pocket and pull out my phone. The app is still there, the same app where Finn first found me. I stare at it for a long moment, the weight of every bad decision pressing down on me. And now I feel fucking sick. I keep walking, forcing myself to push past the fear, and then I remember that, tomorrow night, Finn is going to be in my classroom at OCC again.

I type out an email to the head of the math department, asking to find a temporary replacement while I deal with a family emergency for next week.

The streets are still busy around me, people hurrying to their classes, their jobs, their lives—lives that feel so much simpler than mine in this moment.

At least, I’ve just bought myself a little time to figure out how to deal with it.

***

By the time I finally make it home, my body is running on fumes.

The day has been long, too long. Lectures, office hours, students with questions, emails that won’t stop piling up, and I did it all without my usual coffee because I never went back to Mug Life after that run-in. I just moved through the motions, answered what I had to, graded what I needed to, and yet, I can barely remember a second of it.

Because my brain has been stuck on one thing. Or rather, one person.

The texts are gone now. I cleared the message thread with full intention of deleting the app too, but I couldn’t do it. Call me a sadist whatever; I have no idea why I can’t bring myself to get rid of it.

I toe off my shoes at the door, rolling my shoulders back. I need to shake this feeling. The one that’s been sitting like a rock in my stomach.

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