Page 100 of Bonds of Magic
So the next morning, I woke up, worked out, and went to the refectory for breakfast. Vesperwood’s professors usually ate at a group of tables clustered at the far end of the long hall. I took a seat next to a smiling Seb and a surprised Nat.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Your cabin burn down or something?”
“Ran out of coffee,” I grunted.
I had plenty of coffee back at my cabin, but I hadn’t had any yet this morning, and I could feel how much I needed it. My eyes scanned the room and fell on Cory, sitting at a table with his friends. I’d been too busy thinking about him last night to sleep, and I was paying the price for it this morning.
God, he was gorgeous. He was gorgeous naked and gorgeous clothed, and my body physically jerked towards him as he turned in my direction. His eyes went wide when they met mine. He seemed as surprised to see me as Nat was. I smiled, then pulled my gaze away. I shouldn’t be so obvious.
I didn’t know if Vesperwood had a policy about not fucking your students. Isaac had never said anything to me about it, but then, he’d never thought he needed to. I hoped he never would.
I didn’t have the kind of power over Cory that other professors did. I couldn’t lobby for him to join one haven, or block him from joining another. No matter how poorly a student did in Combat, they didn’t get kicked out for it.
But I knew sleeping with him was ethically questionable at best. I was so much older than he was. Cory wasn’t that much older than Ben would be, if he’d—
I tore my thoughts away from that track, feeling queasy. I didn’t want to think about that, and there were plenty of other issues to worry about instead.
I was stronger than Cory was. I’d been at Vesperwood longer. And I was closer with Isaac. Not that Isaac was close with anyone, but still, I had his ear.
I knew what Cory and I had done last night…and the time before that…and the two times we’d kissed beforethat… Hell, you could go as far back as the night I’d first touched his hand while he was dreaming. All of it was wrong.
But when I looked at him—when I was close to him—I couldn’t hold myself back.
Maybe that was why I felt so exhausted this week. Maybe I was pouring so much of my energy into thinking about Cory—and trying and failing to stay away from him—that I didn’t have any left over for myself.
I smiled again the next time his eyes met mine, and reveled in the delectable shade of pink that crept into his cheeks. God, I could make that kid blush forever.
Teresa sat down at the table next to me. She looked perfectly at ease, buttering a croissant. She added cream and sugar to a cup of tea, then began looking through the contents of a folder she’d set on the table. It must not be too important, if she was willing to open it with other people at her table.
Hans sat at a third faculty table, next to Cinda, who was looking at him solicitously, and Autumn, who was trying to cheer him up. He was wearing a black eyepatch and looked miserable. I wondered if Cinda would find a way to heal his eye completely, or if he’d never get sight back on that side.
What an idiot, messing around with forces he didn’t understand. Still, I couldn’t help feeling bad for the guy. I hated the thought of losing an eye. The lack of depth perception, the trouble focusing—I knew you could adapt, but I didn’t like to think about it.
Teresa chatted a bit with Mauro Linhares and Tanner Watts, but she seemed mostly absorbed in her reading. It was a singularly boring breakfast to watch. When she stood up to leave, I did too. My head spun a bit—maybe I’d hadtoomuch coffee—but I followed her out of the refectory and through the manor. All she did was walk to her usual classroom, though, and I didn’t have time to linger any longer. I had a class to teach too.
Nat raised an eyebrow when I joined her table for lunch as well. I was even more exhausted after my first two classes of the day, but I did a quick survey of the refectory. Cory was sitting with his friends again. I had to force myself not to stare. He was laughing at something Ash had said, tipping his head back, his mouth open. Even though I couldn’t see it, I knew his eyes were dancing.
I wished I could give him more opportunities to laugh, but that had never been my skillset.
“Still enjoying our famously delicious coffee?” Nat quipped. “Eau dupaint stripper and diesel fuel really does it for you, huh?”
“Not to mention your scintillating company,” I said.
I shoveled food into my mouth—seared salmon and couscous with roasted asparagus—and kept my eye on Teresa. I wasn’t sure how long I’d have to eat, in case she left the refectory on short notice. Besides, I was starving.
“Because you did so much talking at breakfast,” Nat said.
“I’ve been listening,” I said around a bite of salmon. “No need for me to talk when you do so much of that on your own.”
She made a face, but a minute later, she was off and rolling, talking about some illusion enchantment her sophomores were working on, and how one of them had messed it up this morning and actually given herself a feline face.
“Had to send her off to the infirmary,” Nat said. “I told them three times they had to be careful to set the parameters of the spell for surface-work only, but every year, someone messes it up. At least cats breathe normally. Last year, Kit Locks turned himself into a blue fin tuna, and almost asphyxiated until we found a bucket of water to stick his head in.”
Teresa was sitting at the next table again. For lunch, she’d opted for chicken salad on toast, and she was taking dainty little bites, like a mouse at a tea party. She was chattier this meal, talking animatedly with Sarah Balian. I strained to hear what she was saying, but all I caught was a mention of Sarah’s miniature dachshund.
“Noah!” Nat said. Actually, she yelled it.
I turned back to her with a frown. “No need to shout. I’m two feet away from you.”
