Falling for the Beast

by Skye Warren

  She was going to miss this class. The energy, the way she lit up when he spoke. The way he lit up when he really got into it, as if he’d found himself in the sharing of knowledge.

  “Today is our last meeting,” he said. “So I want to run down the schedule real quick. Your final papers are due to me at midnight. Because of the abbreviated schedule for summer, I have to turn in grades in a very short amount of time, so don’t be late. It won’t be a question of my giving you an extension or extra credit. Once I turn in grades next week, even I can’t change them. Got it?”

  A round of nods and some shifty eyes followed his pronouncement, probably by folks who’d be up late working on the paper. Anticipation strummed through her. The grades were due on the same day as her thesis…the same day as the Faculty Ball.

  And the next day she’d get to see Blake again.

  “Today is our last meeting,” he repeated, his manner turning thoughtful, “so I also want to tell you how incredibly impressed I am with you all. How grateful I am that you put up with me as I bumbled my way through my first class. How much I believe in each of you.”

  Erin bit her lip to keep from sighing out loud. Glancing around, she saw embarrassed flushes and bright eyes. God, he’d turned a classroom full of cynical co-eds into an after-school special.

  She loved him. She was in awe of him.

  “Albert Einstein once said that imagination is more important than knowledge. I’m sitting up here, as your professor, because of things I know. That’s knowledge. You’re sitting in front of me because you have the initiative, the ambition, and the creativity to do something with it. That’s imagination. What you have is far more important than what I can do up here. You trump me.”

  A poignant quiet rang out in the room.

  “Can anyone tell me what Einstein’s Nobel Prize was for?”

  Everyone was silent. She wasn’t sure. It was in physics, she knew that much. Her science education was limited to ping-pong ball experiments in her high school AP class. But Bailey had majored in physics. She snuck a glance at him.

  Bailey wore a reluctant look. He never spoke in class, but it seemed he couldn’t let the question go unanswered. “The photoelectric effect, which led to the discovery of quantum physics.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Blake said. “Can you tell us what it means in layman’s terms?”

  Bailey leaned forward. Clearly this subject interested him. It drew him into the discussion he’d so long avoided, and in a sudden flash of insight, Erin wondered if Blake had done this on purpose. The one student who’d resisted participation, besides her, and Blake had hit upon a subject important to him.

  “In the old days,” Bailey explained, “matter was made of particles and light was made up of waves. But during experiments with ultraviolet light, they determined that wave theory didn’t account for certain behavior. Einstein was the one who suggested that light was, in fact, particles as well.”

  Blake nodded. “There were physicists and scholars with full knowledge of how things worked. Knowledge wasn’t enough. It would never have been enough to make that leap. Only imagination was enough. Bailey, how can you tell whether something is a particle or a wave?”

  “You can’t. If you measure it as a particle, it’s a particle. If you measure it as a wave, it’s a wave.”

  “In fact, it goes a step further. If you want to examine an electron, you must basically throw a photon at it, thus changing its course. It’s called the observer effect. Science 101. And we’re scientists too, just on the social scale. Can you think of an example of the observer effect in the social sciences?”

  “When reporters embed themselves in a military unit,” someone offered. “That unit might behave differently under scrutiny, thus affecting the outcome of their missions.”

  “Excellent. What else?”

  Another raised his hand briefly before speaking. “Kids have to take standardized tests in school. At first it was to measure their progress, but now teachers have to teach specifically for the test.”

  “Yes, right. The act of measuring has affected the primary source.”

  “The help,” Erin offered blandly. “The presence of a maid might change the behavior of the household members.”

  His lip twitched. “Very much so.” He paused, looking distant. “This is the last day of class, so I need to tell you that you are all activists. Each one of you and every person you pass on the street. Even if you sit back and hope someone else will fix the problem. You can’t ignore the problems in the world. Your inaction is action. If you see the problem, if you’re observing it, you’re already having an effect. The only question is what that effect will be.”

  “I’ve always been a fan of throwing photons, myself,” one boy quipped, and there were snorts and chuckles around the room.

  Blake smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “This is our last class. And so what I want to tell you, the most important lesson I can teach you, is to respect the people who disagree with you. They are the ones who challenge you. And even if you are right, so are they. If you measure it as a particle, it’s a particle. If you measure it as a wave, it’s a wave. Both sides are right. Respect that. Learn from it. Find the common ground, because that’s where the true answer lies.”

  Chapter Five

  Erin

  The end of semester

  Erin’s thesis defense took two hours, longer than she’d been expecting.

  Everyone on the panel had asked thoughtful, curious questions about her research, her assumptions, her methods. She had expected to feel interrogated, or worse, accused. Like one of the women who spoke up, only to be faced with society’s ridicule. Instead she’d stood in front of these professors, these experts and thought leaders, and felt like an equal.

  It was heady and terrifying.

  Grades were in, and the panel would make their recommendation. She wouldn’t find out the results until later; however, she wasn’t worried about either. She had worked her ass off on both her paper for Blake’s class and her thesis.

  She knew in her bones that they were good.

  Melinda caught up with her in the hallway. “Erin, can I speak with you a moment?”

  Dread sank in her stomach. The woman had been very quiet during the defense. She had asked a few questions which were direct but not cruel.

  Erin had hoped that would be the end of it.

  Taking a fortifying breath, she turned to face the other woman.

  Melinda grimaced slightly, as if she knew about Erin’s discomfort—and felt bad about it. “You were great in there. I’m serious. Your research was stronger than a number of doctoral papers I’ve seen. And the topic is important.”

  “Oh, thank you,” she said cautiously, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the “but…” that would bring it all crashing down. Maybe she would expose her relationship with Blake after all. Even though he hadn’t touched her in weeks, if anyone asked questions, she would tell the truth.

  Melinda sighed, leading her through the doors into a small courtyard. “I need to apologize for the things I said the other day. It wasn’t right, and I knew it, but…” A small laugh. “I guess, of all people, you would understand what I lost. Who I lost. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  Erin ducked her head. “I thought you were the one who left him.”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “I’m not proud of that. But he wasn’t like this before. He was withdrawn and angry, and I wasn’t sure he’d ever go back to the way he was. His scars were part of it, but you and I both know they go deeper than that.”

  Erin pursed her lips. She wasn’t about to perform a psychological analysis on Blake, especially with this woman as her partner. Regret or not, Melinda had no right to him.

  “Can I go now?”

  Melinda laughed softly. “I can’t fault you for that. If he had to end up with someone else, at least it’s someone who truly cares about him.”

  “I do.” And I’m ready to be with him, wi
thout having to hide.

  “Well, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to apologize and tell you that I won’t be a problem from now on, between you and him.”

  Erin weighed the sincerity of her words and found she believed them. Still, she wasn’t inclined to be generous with the memory of her humiliation still strong. The woman had basically accused her of being a prostitute. “I accept your apology, but just so you know…you couldn’t have caused a problem between me and him. Not anymore.”

  Glossy lips twisted into a wry smile. “You’re probably right about that. He’s loyal. I think you did the right thing not telling him about his father.”

  Her throat clenched. “What do you mean?”

  “A senator from upstate? It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. Blake may not like everything his father’s done, but he wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt the people he loves.”

  It felt like serrated saws moved through her chest, because she knew it was true. Blake had both integrity and loyalty. Erin didn’t want to know which one would win. She also didn’t want to make him choose between his family and herself.

  So she had left Senator Morris’s name out of her thesis.

  She burned with desire to see him right now, to kiss and make love to him until the world outside faded to black. To reassure herself that he was still the man she knew and loved. However, he had the Faculty Ball tonight. She could survive one more night without him, couldn’t she? It would be a near thing.

  They’d be together again tomorrow.

  They’d have forever together…tomorrow.

  And he’s mine.

  The force of the words shocked her. At least she managed not to say them out loud, as she made her escape from Melinda. But privately, her tenderness for him, her possession surged impossibly strong. He was hers. Hers to love. Hers to keep.

  At her apartment, she found Courtney packing.

  The room had disappeared between a mountain of clothes. A huge piece of luggage sat open and empty. From the haggard look on Courtney’s face, things had not been going well.

  Erin paused at the door. “What happened?”

  “What happened is that Derek and I are going on a trip.” She frowned, examining a pair of puffy pants. “And I have nothing to wear.”

  “Where is he taking you, the tundra?”

  “Close. Colorado. We’re going to do some late skiing. He’s booked a suite in a lodge. Isn’t that the sweetest gesture?”

  “But you hate the cold.”

  “Yes, he must have forgotten that.”

  “And aren’t you afraid of heights?”

  “Right. I should be okay if I stick to the bunny slopes, right?”

  Erin had no idea. Skiing had certainly never been part of her family vacations, which had mostly consisted of her mom and her at the beach for a weekend. She suspected even a baby slope would be big enough to terrify the girl who shut her eyes when they crossed a bridge.

  “Will you hate me if I say this is a bad idea?”

  “No. Because you’re right, and it is a bad idea.”

  “But you’re doing it anyway.”

  “I love that you get me. I mean, really understand me. You’re a great friend.”

  “Hmm,” Erin said, wondering where this was going.

  “Like the kind of friend who would help me pack and figure out what to bring.”

  Erin stared dubiously at the mountains of clothes. Tank tops, miniskirts. They had their work cut out for them, but it was just the distraction she needed. She didn’t want to think about Blake or his father. She didn’t want to wonder if she’d done the right thing. Blake would be at the Faculty Ball right now, and the fact that Erin couldn’t attend as his date only highlighted the separation, made it feel so much deeper and longer than one more night.

  “You’re on,” Erin said, digging into the pile.

  She ended up pulling everything out of her closet, as well, matching outfits so she could look cute for their renewed relationship, as well as warm enough not to freeze to death.

  Hours passed, and Erin lost herself in the chatter with her good friend. She would miss this when she moved in with Blake. Except she hadn’t agreed to that.

  So when Courtney asked her about re-upping the lease, Erin said quickly, “I’m not moving in with him,” and immediately blushed. As soon as she said the words, she knew they were a lie.

  Courtney raised her eyebrows. “Want to bet?”

  She knew the truth. Even Blake probably knew it was inevitable. Everyone except Erin understood. She’d put him off. Not now, later. We’ll talk about it later.

  Now was later, and God, she wanted to be with him. Night and day. Forever and ever, amen. This must be serious, he had said in a teasing tone. With the worry of school behind her, she was damned serious.

  “Okay, I might move in with him. And maybe even…I don’t know, marry him. Does that sound crazy?”

  “Of course you’re going to marry him. See, when you find a boy who you like, and who you want to have sex with, you have to do the right thing by him. Otherwise he starts to wonder if you’re just using him for his body.”

  Erin huffed a laugh. Blake loved when she used him for his body. But that was a good idea. Maybe she could pop the question. It would be worth it just to see the look on his face. Not right now, but soon. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so guilty about not answering him right away about moving in. Then she might not feel this gnawing emptiness at being apart.

  She helped Courtney stuff the luggage full and then sat on it so they could zipper it shut. They loaded her friend’s car together and hugged before she got inside.

  Courtney frowned. “Sorry to abandon you so soon after your defense. I should have taken you out for drinks to celebrate. And I made you pack with me. I’m a shitty friend.”

  “I don’t mind, sweetie. You have fun. And bring back lots of stories.”

  “Always. And I’m still taking you out for drinks when I get back. We’ll get a cab together and get totally wasted.”

  Sadness clamped Erin’s stomach as she waved goodbye, and she realized that at least part of her hesitancy was leaving Courtney. She’d been an amazing friend. They would still be friends, but the roommate bond ran deeper. They talked all the time. They knew each other’s secrets. Soon it would be her and Blake. Yes, she wanted that, but she would still miss her friend.

  Her phone trilled from inside the apartment. She almost sprinted to answer it. Her mother hadn’t returned a call in days now, and Erin was beyond worried. The number on the screen wasn’t her mother’s. Disappointment tightened her stomach.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, is this Erin Rodriguez?”

  The officiousness of the tone drew her to full alert. “Yes, that’s me.”

  The woman proceeded to introduce herself as the head nurse of the urgent care ward at Lakota County General Hospital. A wave of dizziness swept over Erin, but she gripped the phone tightly and held on.

  The nurse’s voice was sympathetic. “I’m calling to inform you that your mother was admitted into our care after suffering a major heart attack.”

  Fear gripped her. A heart attack? Her mother was an older woman, but she was strong and healthy. Or she had been. Oh God. The world lost focus as she took in the rest of the information. Yes, her mother was alive and in recovery. No, she couldn’t speak to her mother right now—she was sleeping, a side effect of the medicines she was on. Yes, Erin would be able to visit her mother if she arrived before visiting hours were over.

  Erin’s thoughts came wild and unordered, matching the state of her room.

  Her clothes were strewn across the floor and bed. She grabbed a few tops and a pair of jeans and stuffed them into her backpack. In a sort of trance, she walked to her car and slipped her key into the ignition.

  Nothing happened.

  She took out her key and tried again. The engine turned over and then stalled. Her old, trusty rust bucket had finally given out and at the worst possible
time. She tried three more times, but the car had well and truly given up.

  Feeling sick, she struggled to focus.

  The most important thing was to get to her mother. She could deal with the repairs later. But how could she get there? The drive was four hours away. The one time she’d had to take the transit bus from her city to the college, after Doug had left her, the trip had taken twice that long from all the stops in between.

  Her mind spun, running through all the options she had and coming up empty. She didn’t mind being alone, not really, but times like now, it did hurt. Except she wasn’t alone.

  Blake. He would know the answer.

  He’d asked her to find him if she needed him, and she did.

  She suddenly couldn’t wait to be near him, to lean on his strength and feel his embrace. Any attempt to shield herself had been in vain. She was already his, under his domain and beholden—and it was exactly where she wanted to be. It had nothing to do with where her body resided. In times of fear and worry, her heart turned to him.

  Blake

  Blake took a swig of his cocktail. The sweet syrup clung to his tongue and the liquor burned his throat, but drinking still beat talking. He’d already had to tell the story of his scars twice, and he wasn’t eager to tell it a third time.

  He gave a scrubbed version, of course.

  The real thing wasn’t fit for the string quartet or the gowns of the Faculty Ball, though that fact didn’t deter them from asking. His scars were so fascinating, they said, as if it were the best compliment—and to a group of strident intellectuals, perhaps it was.

  They took his refusals as modesty first and rudeness second, until he’d resignedly told some softened, civilian-friendly account of what had happened.

  “There you are.” The slurred words came from behind him. Jeremy Mosely, the dean of his department and his boss for the semester, approached unsteadily.