Page 20 of Kismet

She rolls her eyes. “Do I really have to go, Stone? Can’t you go alone? It’s not like these events are any fun for me.”

“Yes, you need to come, Aida. You’re my fucking wife. It would look weird if I showed up alone. You’d think you’d want to keep up your perfect marriage image.” It’s not that Iwanther to come with me, but I don’t feel like explaining to my colleagues why my wife isn’t with me when the event is in honor of me.

“Whatever, Stone.” She resumes her folding, silently dismissing me.

“Alright, well, I’m going to head to my office for a while and work on some stuff, then. Let me know if you need me.”

“Yup.” She waves me off, returning her attention to the hand towel she’s folding.

I end up losing myself in a book for the next couple of hours. It feels like thirty seconds have gone by, by the time I look at my clock and realize I need to head to campus if I don’t want to be late for my meeting with Cash.

It’s still sunny when I hit the road on the bike again. It’s cool enough that I need my jacket, though. I’m dropping the kickstand down in a parking spot with five minutes to spare. With my helmet in hand, I make my way into the English building. My classroom is on the second floor, so I hop on the elevator, making my way up.

Cash is waiting outside the locked classroom by the time I arrive. He’s in navy-blue joggers, a fitted white t-shirt, and a pair of all white converse. His Ray-Ban shades sit on the top of his head, and he’s wearing a gold ring on his left middle finger, which I notice he always has on.

He must hear me walk up. His head lifts, and a smile tugs on his lips. “Hey, teach.”

“Hi, Mr. DeMarco. Thanks for meeting me on such short notice.” Unlocking the door, I step aside. “Come on in.”

“So, what’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine. Professor Dillion went into labor early, so she’ll be out the rest of the semester.”

“Oh, shit. That’s awesome.” He scratches his cocked head. “What’s that got to do with me, though? I don’t have her for any of my classes.”

“No, I know that. The dean came by this afternoon and asked if we’d be willing to do the grading for that class for the rest of the semester. They found an instructor who can do the lectures, but needs someone to do the grading.”

“Oh, uh… yeah, that’s fine with me, I guess. If it’s fine with you.”

“Yup, it is. The dean’s assistant is going to give me the work that needs to be graded later this week. I’ll just keep you posted.”

“Sweet! Was that it?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess it was.” Rubbing at the back of my neck, I let out an awkward chuckle. “Sorry, that probably could’ve been an email.”

He laughs, the sound wrapping around my body, making my skin feel warm as a shiver works its way down my spine. “Nah, it’s cool. I wanted to get out of the house, anyway.”

“Over the frat lifestyle?” I ask him, sitting on the edge of my desk.

“Pretty much, man. These are my last few months there. Once spring semester ends, I’ll be moving into my own place.”

“That’s great, Cash. Really exciting. Will you have roommates or live alone?” Is that a creepy question for a professor to ask a student?

“I’m going to have one roommate. Xander Dawson. I don’t know if you know him, but he’s entering the same grad program I am.”

“Yeah, I know Mr. Dawson. He was in a few of my classes last year. Good kid.”

A smile that reaches his gleaming eyes slides onto his face as he takes a step closer. “Again, with the kid bullshit.”

With his new close proximity, I can tell his hair is slightly damp, like he showered before coming here. His fresh scent, paired with the cinnamon gum he’s chewing, surrounds me. It’s reminding me of memories I shouldn’t be thinking of and making me want to do things I shouldn’t.

“Ah, yes,” I croak. “My bad. You guys arenotkids. My apologies.”

We hold each other’s gaze for a few moments, neither of us saying anything, until finally, he clears his throat. “Alright, well, if that’s it… I should probably head home.”

“Yes. Yeah, absolutely. Thank you for your willingness to help. I’ll let you know once I get those assignments we need to grade, otherwise I’ll see you on Wednesday for class. G’night, Mr. DeMarco.”

“Night, Professor Philips.”

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