Page 67 of Kismet

It’s early as fuck when my alarm goes off the next morning. The convention starts at eight… whoever decided on that time should be fucking fired. I take a quick shower, getting dressed, before heading downstairs to meet Stella. The convention center is a few blocks away, but we’re catching an Uber.

“G’morning, Cash. How was your night?”

“Oh, not bad. Movies and room service. Can’t complain. What about you?”

“It was good. I ended up going out to dinner. I actually ran into the dean!”

My fingers pause my attempt at seeing where our Uber driver is. I couldn’t have possibly heard her correctly. “What?”

“The dean! I ran into him at the restaurant I ate at. I didn’t even know he was coming. Did you?”

My gaze slides up from my phone to her face. “The dean? Y-You saw the dean… here?”

“Well, not here, here. But down the street, yes. Are you okay? You look pale.”

My phone buzzes in my hand. “Our car is here,” I say quietly, walking out the sliding hotel doors, not bothering to see if Stella is following me. The Toyota Camry being driven by Earl is right out front. I go around to the driver’s side, climbing in the back, as Stella climbs in on the passenger side.

“Cash? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry.”

The drive over only takes about five minutes, and when we walk into the center, it’s already packed.

“Jeez, it’s busy in here,” Stella notes beside me.

“Yeah. I wonder why? The first one I went to like this wasn’t nearly this busy. Have the others here been?”

“No. Must be the surprise guest speaker. I heard whoever it is, is winning an award.”

My head turns toward her. “Damn, really? That’s cool.”

All thoughts of Stone being in Fort Worth go on the back burner as we make our way into the banquet room. We spend the next hour or so talking with other professors before someone takes the stage.

“Excuse me!” they say, trying to get everyone’s attention. We all quiet down. “Thank you all for joining us today. My name is Rachel Miller, and I am the host of this year’s literary event. As some of you may know, we have a special guest today. I have the special honor of announcing Dr. Stone Philips, the dean of Texas Tech University. Please give him a round of applause!”

No fucking way.This can’t be fucking happening. My attention is brought over to the left side of the stage, where none fucking other than Stone is waltzing up there like he owns the fucking place. I can hear my pulse rage loudly in my ears.

What in the fuck is happening? Why is he here? And what fuckingawardis he winning? This is unbelievable.Un-fucking-believable.

An elbow jabs me in my side, pulling me from my internal rage. “This is so exciting!” Stella whisper-yells next to me. “I wonder what he’s winning?”

His large hand takes the mic from Rachel, and when he speaks, his deep, gruff voice booms throughout the entire room, sending chills down my spine. “Thank you so much for having me here today. It’s an honor.

He looks obnoxiously fucking hot today. His maroon suit hugs his every muscle and curve like he was fucking born to wear it. The Oxfords on his feet are shiny and black, and his hair is styled perfectly—not a goddamn strand out of place.

The moment he notices me, I canfeelit. My body goes hot, then cold, and I’m hyper aware of his attention before I even turn my gaze toward him. Our eyes meet from across the room and time stands still. It’s fucking ridiculous. He holds my gaze a few more moments before returning his attention to Rachel, who is now busy announcing him winning the Winsor Award, which is apparently an annual award given to the schools with the highest success rates the previous year.

It sounds like an impressive award to win, but I’m too fucking pissed to care. He says a thank you speech, but I tune it all out. I’m too busy seething, while simultaneously trying to not let Stella know I’m fucking pissed, because the last thing I need is to explain to her why our dean’s presence infuriates me to no end.

As soon as his speech is done and he leaves the stage, I lean down to Stella’s ear. “Hey, I’m not feeling well. I’m gonna head back up to my room.”

“Again? Are you okay? This seems to happen a lot.”

Of course, she would call me on my bullshit. “Uh, yeah. IBS.” I shrug and turn away from her as her eyes widen. I make a beeline for the front doors, ordering an Uber immediately, wanting to get the fuck out of here.

I need to be fucking alone.

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