Page 38 of Love, Academically
No.
“I really don’t want to do this.”
“What about it in particular do you not want to do?” she asked gently.
He took a long look at her, and she looked straight back with her guileless blue eyes.
Rhys found himself increasingly annoyed that he noticed what she wore every day. Sometimes he appreciated it. Sometimes he noticed how her clothes would look ridiculous on anyone else, but on her they fit perfectly, hugged her body and made her eyes bluer. Sometimes the colours clashed and gave him a headache. Either way, he always noticed. Today, it was the objectively horrible tight, silver trousers and oversized red and blue patterned shirt, and she made it look good. Really good.
She was still waiting for an answer, and honesty was best. Surely?
“I’m not sure if you’ll take this in the way I mean it, but I don’t want to hold my seminar in front of you.”
“In front of me? Or in front of anyone?”
Her. In front of her. So she could see all of his vulnerabilities, everything he lacked. So she could see how bad he was at reading social cues.
He didn’t answer.
“I get that it’s difficult. It’s like you’re under supervision. But honestly, I won’t even be paying attention. I’ve got so much work to do.” Lila gestured towards the computer.
“But the fact that the students need—” He dragged a hand through his hair roughly. That was too much. He didn’t need to talk about how disappointed he was.
“Look, think of it as a new environment,” she said. “They want to learn. They want to be here, okay?”
Rhys nodded. They may want to learn, but he didn’t feel they wanted to learn from him. At all. And that was his own fault.
“Have a cookie, Rhys.” Lila gestured to the plate on the table. “Get your blood sugar up.”
He took a long look at her. She’d obviously tried to make this as easy as possible for him.
“Thanks.” He nibbled at a cookie. It was good.
She smiled warmly and turned back to her computer. There was a pink flush creeping up her neck. As if she could feel him watching her, she tucked her hair behind ear and ducked her head, a tight little smile curving her lips.
Was she self-conscious? Perhaps she was. But why? His forehead creased in a frown as he studied the tilt of her head towards the computer and that errant lock of blonde hair that always seemed to escape from her bun.
For the first time, Rhys wondered whether taking her to the Dallimore dinner was the best idea. What if she hated it? What if his completely corporate-driven family cut her down to size? Would Lila’s happy smiles be enough to cut through the harsh business talk? He’d just have to make sure that she wasn’t left alone and protect her from the prying eyes and accusatory tones of his family.
“Hi, Lila.”
Rhys jerked his eyes away from her to the cluster of his smallest seminar group, huddled together in the doorway of Lila’s office.
“Hey, DeVon.” Lila gave them that bright smile. “How are you, Kerry? Ada?”
She knew their names.
They nodded and gave her a mumbled “fine thanks” before shuffling over to the coffee table. Rhys stood from his chair and forced a smile to his face, the floral cushion falling to the floor. Lila’s office was less than ideal, because whilst it was cosy and comfortable for a nice chat, a seminar should have more of a formal setting. There was no need for blankets draped over the back of the sofa, or for plump cushions with tassels at the corners to welcome the students.
“Hello. Thank you for coming to this seminar in a different venue. Lila has very kindly provided cookies,” he said, gesturing at the coffee table and inviting them to sit down. Why he had to behave like he was a butler in a country house when he was just here to teach them, he didn’t know. He had better things to do than pandering to students.
They sat warily on the edges of their seats, the girls on the little sofa huddled together as if for warmth, and DeVon on the other chair opposite him. Their eyes kept flicking over to Lila tapping away on her keyboard.
Might as well get this purgatory started.
“So, what can you tell me about the relationship between Henry II and his son, Henry?” Rhys forced lightness into his voice.
The three students glanced at each other before DeVon piped up.
