Page 52 of Learn Your Limits
The thought of surprising him and forcing him to stand by quietly, unable to respond, causes a rush of excitement to chase away the nerves attempting to settle in my stomach. I’ve been working on this drawing of Milo since the cabin. While studying for finals has taken up much of my time, I’ve spent every free moment possible trying to capture the way I see him. From the sharp angles of his well-trimmed beard and the fullness of his lips to his beautiful storm-filled gaze, I need it to be perfect.
Because that’s how I see him.
I’m afraid to somehow ruin the piece by adding color, opting instead to leave it as a sketch. I don’t have time to spend coloring it now anyway. I need to get across campus to class and I don’t have a ton of time to do it. Rushing wasn’t something I wanted to do today, but I must have spent more time than I realized trying to make sure each line was impeccable.
I wanted more time to write out a detailed letter encompassing all that I feel for him, but the simplicity of the three words written across the bottom of the thick white paper will have to do.
The lecture hall has already begun to fill with students by the time I make it to class. Professor Cervantes is standing at the front of the room behind the podium, his hands braced on the surface as his gray-green eyes scan the gathering crowd.
Is he looking for me?
I’ve made it a point to be at least fifteen minutes early to class almost every day this semester, desperate to steal any amount of time with him as possible, but today is different.
Today feels heavier.
More important.
Shifting just out of the doorway of the lecture hall, I pull the sketchpad from my bag and carefully remove the artwork for Milo. My head drops back against the wall with a soft thud as I pull in a deep lungful of air, trying to calm my racing heart.
What if he doesn’t feel the same way?
When we talked about our relationship at the cabin, he said he could picture the rest of his life with me in it... But he has yet to utter those three little words. What if I’m making a huge mistake by saying them first? What if I ruin everything we’ve been building by admitting how I feel?
Shoving the thoughts from my head, I push my shoulders back and stand tall as I make my way into the lecture hall. Keeping my stride confident is a challenge, especially when Milo’s eyes shift in my direction and lock on mine. My gaze falls to the sketch in my hand as I fight back the heat threatening to climb up my neck.
Deep breath, Reid. The man calls you Muñeco for crying out loud. He feels the same way. You just have to be the first to say it.
“Sorry I’m late,” I murmur, meeting his gaze as I hand him the sketch and my heart.
Chapter thirty-nine
Emiliano
I was expecting to see Reid front and center, fifteen minutes early for class as he has been every morning since the start of the semester. Now that I’ve gotten to know him, I realize promptness is something he actively works for, so I’m confused as to why he would choose the day of his final to break the streak.
Has something gone wrong?
When I’m only seconds away from texting him, I hear the doors of the lecture hall open and raise my head to see him and a few other students filter in. While the other students scatter to find a seat, Reid keeps walking toward me with a piece of paper in his hand.
He pauses in front of my podium before handing the paper over, carefully tilted in a way where only I could see its contents. To the other students, it might seem like he is handing me an end of the semester gift. Perhaps a gift certificate or hand-written letter, but I see this for what it really is.
A declaration.
Reid has drawn me, relaxed and reading on the couch while we were away on our fall break trip. It’s his talent alone thatnearly causes a blush to form on my face, for I’ve never felt so beautiful, portrayed as if I am the center of his world.
“You have a few minutes to spare,” I reply automatically. My mind is frozen by the three little words written at the bottom of the sketch. As lovely of a gift as this is, I’m tempted to put him over my knee for making my brain malfunction before I need to address him and his classmates.
Clearing my throat, I attempt to school my features, but still give him a small smile and affectionate nod. I cannot outright declare my love for him in front of this lecture hall, but I take my hand and brush my fingers along the arm he rested on the top of my podium, his body shielding the act from the rest of the room. My fingers drag against his skin, following a path of freckles I want to keep exploring. Instead, I’m forced to stop touching him as it’s only a minute until class is set to start.
Stepping back, I adjust my suit with one hand and gesture toward an empty seat near the front of the room with the other. “Thank you. Now, if you’ll find your seat, Mr. Callahan.”
“Of course, Professor.” His eyes track the movement of my hand as I close the last button of my suit before he turns away to claim the empty seat. Once he’s sitting, I can see the blush that paints Reid’s cheeks as he averts his gaze from mine, glancing around instead at the crowded room.
“It has been quite the semester, hasn’t it?” I ask out loud, addressing the class although I’m still focused in Reid’s direction. One last exam and one final grade are all that stand between us now.
A chorus of cheers and grumbles answer my question, and it brings a small smile to my face. There’s something comforting in knowing people are going through life-changing circumstances, in knowing that as a collective we can overcome and succeed.
“But as we’ve learned: our minds persevere,” I add, turning for a moment to gather the testing materials. Booklets now inhand, I walk over to each section and lay the stacks down at the front row for students to begin passing them backward. “Now, as much as it has been an honor to teach every one of you, please pass this exam and do not make me see you in this class again.”
