I slid back into my seat and pulled the textbook from my bag. The night before, I had read over the chapter we were discussing today so I could get a basic understanding of it before the lecture. Sections were highlighted in the textbook, and I’d marked the chapter with a mini post-it so I could easily flip to it.
Brandon plopped down in the desk beside me, his hands shaking and his cheeks red. “He’s kind of intimidating, isn’t he?”
I shrugged.
“But he’s brilliant.” Brandon sighed and turned toward me. “Can you imagine the job offers with him on your résumé? Or even just a letter of recommendation from him? Other professors have teaching assistants, and those assistants can use the time as experience when job hunting. And in a competitive field, every small edge on the competition matters.”
“So you just want to use him?” I asked, not impressed at all.
I understood where he was coming from; the experience would be excellent. But well-known chemist or not, Dr. Vale was a person just like the rest of us, and I was certain he wouldn’t feel good knowing he was being used as a cash cow.
“Hey, middleshipman or whatever your title is, I don’t need your judgment.” Brandon faced forward and combed through his curly brown hair with his fingers. “Sometimes you have to step on people to get where you want to go.”
Wow. Wherever Brandon was headed, count me out. I’d run the other way.
I opened my notebook to the first page and read over what I’d written during Monday’s lecture. With everything organized on my desk and my memory refreshed on material discussed in the previous class, I looked up.
Dr. Vale was staring at me.
When our eyes met, it was like the temperature in the room skyrocketed. As did my heartrate. I had never experienced anything like it before. My stomach jolted, and my palms began to sweat. It lasted a second, maybe even a fraction of a second, but it felt like it lasted minutes. Hours.
He averted his gaze to the papers on the podium, his blond hair falling into his face, breaking the connection but not the spell he’d cast.
I kept staring at him for several moments. One heartbeat. Two.
With just a look, he had done something to me. His gaze was like a sparkplug, firing my synapses the way an electrical spark fired the gasoline in an internal combustion engine. His green eyes ignited a deep desire within me, kick starting my heart.
It seemed to beat differently now.
Chapter 5
Sebastian
Cody seemed different this morning, not only because he was in his uniform. It was the manner in which he carried himself while wearing said uniform. He sat up straighter, held his head higher. He created his own energy field, drawing in those around him.
Drawing me in.
Just as the thought entered my mind, he looked at me and our gazes locked. Beautiful eyes set into a perfectly-symmetrical face, a straight nose that led to a thin upper lip and a full bottom one, and a sharp jawline. The oddest of sensations struck then, and I felt as though tiny bolts of electricity were traveling through my veins and heating me from the inside out.
I looked away.
My lecture notes were laid out on the podium, and I read over them. However, the information was not being retained. I saw the words, yet my brain didn’t absorb them. Even with him out of sight, I saw Cody. More specifically, I felt him. Not a physical touch. It went deeper.
He intrigued me.
There was more, too. The same feeling that hit me the night I met Emily surfaced again with Cody. An indescribable responsiveness that attracted me to another person. No rhyme or reason to it. It was different with him, though I couldn’t say why or how.
With Emily, the feeling had been weak at most. I oftentimes wondered if I had settled by marrying her. At the time, I was thirty-three and had never been married. People constantly asked when I was going to settle down and start a family. My mother had guilt-tripped me, saying she was getting old and wanted to see her only son’s wedding before she passed.
Emily had been the logical choice, a woman with a good head on her shoulders and a stable career; someone kind and gentle. Simple.
Unlike Emily, though, absolutely nothing would come of my attraction for Cody. It was not only unprofessional, but inappropriate, as well. He was a twenty-one-year-old student, and I was his thirty-seven-year-old professor. Him being male didn’t matter. Gender was of no consequence to me.
I had experienced feelings for a man once before, stronger than I’d ever felt with anyone else, including Emily.
The clock hit nine, and I started the lecture.
“Good morning, class.” I regarded the students in the first row before looking behind them at the others, carefully avoiding one particular seat. “We have much to cover today, so I’m going to jump right into it if there aren’t any questions.”
I paused, giving them time to ask a question if they had one. When no one raised their hand, I continued, “Very well. I’ll begin. The first law of thermodynamics states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed. Energy can only be transferred or changed from one form to another. Can anyone tell me what that means? Perhaps give an example?”
Cody raised his hand, and my chest fluttered in response.
“Yes, Mr. Miller?”
“As the law states, energy can only be transferred,” Cody answered. “Turning on a light is an example. When you flip the switch, it seems like you’re creating the energy, when in reality, the electrical energy is being converted from elsewhere.”
“Excellent.” I moved on to the next slide in the presentation that gave a breakdown of the first law and how it worked.
The rest of class went as planned. I explained the first law more in depth, discussing energy, work, and heat, followed by evaluating properties of matter. When I reached the end of the PowerPoint, I was pleased to see I’d actually finished ahead of schedule.
“Please read over the next chapter about the second law of thermodynamics before Friday’s lecture,” I said as students began packing up. “And enjoy the rest of your day.”
Cody slipped his backpack over both shoulders, instead of draping it over one like I’d seen him do before. I wondered if it was a regulation for the program when in their uniforms. I also wondered why I’d noticed.
A clear sign I was more perceptive of him than I needed to be.
“Dr. Vale?” He stepped toward me, bringing his energy field with him. “I know I probably sound like a broken record by this point, but let me say sorry again for Monday. I bumped into you pretty hard. I hope you’re okay and I didn’t bruise you or anything.”
“I’m fine.” I touched my chest at the memory. “Please don’t worry about it. As I said, accidents happen.”
“Okay. Good.” Cody smiled, once again appearing both boyish and manly. Such an interesting combination. “I enjoyed the lecture today. Learned a lot, I think.”
“Mm. That’s nice.”
I wasn’t sure what else to say. Conversation, unless when discussing my studies or subjects of interest, fell short with me.
Emily had often said I seemed inconsiderate and unsympathetic toward other people, though it was never intentional.
“You’re like a block of ice, Sebastian,” she told me on more than one occasion. “I wonder if someone will ever find a way to thaw you out.”
“I still owe you that sandwich,” Cody said, pulling me from my thoughts. “Yeah, I know you said it was inappropriate, but I don’t think it is. It’s just food. No hidden agenda.”
“I didn’t think there’d be an agenda.”
Not with him, anyway. Brandon Powel wanted to use my name to further his career, as did a number of other students. Many asked me to help with their research projects; some were genuinely interested in learning from me, and others more concerned with how their association with me would aid in their reputation. Much like Vance and his collection of trophy friends.
Cody didn’t seem like the type, though, and it
made me wonder why he went out of his way to speak with me so often. He said he was an admirer of my work. Perhaps that was all the reason needed.
“Well, if you won’t let me buy you lunch, maybe I’ll see you in the dining hall later?” He looked hopeful.
“Perhaps.”
But unlikely.
True, enjoying lunch with Cody wouldn’t do any harm. I sometimes noticed professors having a meal with students—mostly in groups, but eating together nonetheless. But…if I did such a thing with Cody, I suspected it would mean more to me than simply sharing a meal.
Physical attraction was a normal, uncontrollable response. Acting on it was a choice.
Therefore, I would push it from my mind and not think on it a moment longer.
***
Monday through Friday, my office hours were from one to three. While I sat at my desk, I caught up on work, going over the lesson plan for the next class and grading assignments. After an hour, I finished with my professor-related tasks.
There was always something to be done, however. My time in the classroom was only a fraction of my duties. It was also imperative for me to keep up with the advances in chemistry and its sub disciplines, such as chemical engineering and biochemistry, by reading extensively.
As I read over data from another laboratory, analyzing and reviewing their findings, there was a knock at my door. Only two students had come to my office today, and I didn’t expect many others since it was so early in the semester. That left only one other person, and I looked up, expecting to see Vance.
“Emily,” I said, standing from my chair.
“You don’t have to stand.” She tucked her short red hair behind her left ear. “Can I come in?”
“Certainly.”
We’d seen each other very little since I’d moved out, and her phone calls at night had lessened in frequency. I assumed she’d moved on with her life. Keeping one foot in the past wouldn’t do her any favors.
“I hope it’s okay for me to stop in like this.” She sat in the seat across from my desk and folded her hands in front of her.
“Of course. How are your classes going?”
“Good.” She smiled, and I saw an underlying hint of nervousness. “Yours?”
All formalities, a bit of small talk before she got to the real reason she’d come to see me.
“I have no complaints.”
“I bet you suspect I’m not here to talk about our classes.” Her shoulders tensed, making her nerves more apparent.
“Why are you here?” The question wasn’t meant to be rude. It was mere curiosity.
Her pale cheeks darkened with a blush. “You’ll think me silly if I say.”
I studied her.
“Fine,” she softly huffed and lifted her brown eyes to mine. “I overheard some of the women talking about you. About how you were single now. They see you as a challenge and intend to move in on you now that you’re available. And…I guess it made me a little jealous.”
My face heated, and I adjusted my glasses.
When I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see the handsome man so many people seemed to. My nose was slightly crooked and my hair refused to be tamed most days, no matter how hard I tried to fix it. My bangs swooped, and the sides flipped in all directions, sticking up in some areas and curling near my ears in others.
“There is no reason for you to be jealous, Emily.” I attempted a smile, certain it appeared as awkward as it felt. Her face softened but fell again when I added, “We aren’t together anymore. You’re free to date other men if you want to, and I am provided that same freedom with whomever I wish.”
“Wow.” She laughed without humor. “For a moment, I thought you were going to say I shouldn’t be jealous because you have no intentions of dating those other women. But then you had to get all logical, as always.”
“I didn’t say I was interested in dating them, Emily.” I suppressed a sigh. “I was merely stating a fact. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”
One reason I was prone to avoiding conversations: they could be so exhausting.
“Did you ever cheat on me?” Emily briefly closed her eyes before opening them again. “I couldn’t bring myself to ask before, but I need to know. You hadn’t touched me in over two years, and I was sure you’d found someone else.”
I pinned her with a hard stare. “For you to ask such an offensive question shows you don’t know me at all.”
“Finally, some emotion from you.” She stood and smoothed her knee-length skirt. When her gaze settled back on me, she looked as cold as she often told me I was. “How was I supposed to know the real you, Sebastian, when you hide behind your books and research? When you love your equations more than you loved me?”
I said nothing.
“My question wasn’t meant to offend you,” she continued, as tears fell from her eyes. “I suppose it made more sense to think our marriage failed because you found someone else, rather than considering the notion that it failed because you didn’t care enough about me to make it work.”
Seeing her cry was hard. I didn’t know what to do to comfort her. Leaning on other people wasn’t something I was accustomed to, and I dealt with my pain alone.
Wiping her eyes, she then cleared her throat. “Sometimes I lay awake at night, thinking about us. And it occurs to me that maybe I was just another experiment to you. Something you analyzed and prodded. When the experiment started to fail, you lost interest. Scrapped the hypothesis and moved on to something else.”
“You weren’t an experiment,” I whispered. Though…I wasn’t sure that was true.
I looked at everything with a scientific mind. My inability to form close attachments with most people made me look at them with scrutiny, trying to figure them out. Had I inadvertently done the same to Emily?
“Do you want my honest opinion, Sebastian?” Her bottom lip quivered. “If all of your relationships fail, with lovers and with friends, maybe it’s not everyone else who doesn’t fit. The common denominator in all instances…is you. The experiment won’t ever be successful because other people aren’t the problem. You are.”
She stormed out of the office and slammed the door.
I stared at the spot she’d stood moments ago and felt an odd aching in my chest. Her words had pierced through my skin. She was right.
I exited my office at three o’clock, still reeling from the argument with Emily. I had never meant to hurt her or make her feel like an experiment.
I’m the problem. The part of the equation that doesn’t fit.
Vance passed me in the hall. “Hey, Sebby!”
I kept walking, ignoring him.
I was eager to get home where I’d be away from everything. Everyone. I could count on one hand the number of people I’d ever felt close to. My past relationships had started successfully enough, yet somewhere down the line, they’d fallen apart.
They always fell apart.
Chapter 6
Cody
Tristen wanted to go out. To the club, to a bar, he wasn’t picky.
“I just don’t want to stay in on a Friday night,” he said, throwing on a fitted T-shirt that showed off his muscled torso. “We survived the first week of the semester. We should celebrate. Don’t be dull, Cody.”
“You should know by now that peer pressure doesn’t work on me.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He chucked a shirt at me that smelled like dirty underwear. “You coming or not?”
“Dude.” I knocked the shirt aside. “I’ll go out with you under one condition. You wash your nasty-ass laundry tomorrow.”
“Deal,” Tristen agreed, laughing. “Should we invite the others? It’d be cool to hang out with our unit without us all dying of exhaustion.”
Being so close to the commissioning class of other midshipmen had been unexpected but fucking amazing. The friendships I’d made over the past four years were unbelievable, and I suspected they’d last a lifetime. Maybe it was because we were all working tow
ard the same goal and had bled, sweat, and helped each other up when one of us fell.
“Rachel might be busy with basketball,” I said, as I left Tristen’s room and entered mine. “We can still ask her, though! Keith and Marcus should be down. Those losers are probably binge watching Marvel movies or playing video games right now anyway.”
They were roommates and about as inseparable as me and Tristen.
“I’ll text them while you get dressed,” Tristen called from the other room.
I was a casualwear kind of guy. When I attended banquets or functions sponsored by the NROTC, unless they required us to wear our dress uniforms, I made an effort and wore something nice. Like a button-up shirt and slacks. But I was most comfortable in jeans and a tee.
After throwing on a clean shirt and stepping into my favorite jeans, I met Tristen in the living room. “They coming?”
“Yeah,” he answered, looking up from his phone. “Rachel is, too. They’re going to meet us at the usual bar.”
The usual bar was called Tonic, and we had started going there regularly last semester once we’d all turned twenty-one. Tonic was a little nicer than a dive bar. It wasn’t the most glamorous place on Main Street, but it was one of the cheapest and had a laidback atmosphere.
When Tristen and I got in my truck, I turned the key in the ignition. Nothing. It wouldn’t start. The thing was older than me, and while I’d tried to keep up with the maintenance, it felt like a losing battle. I had done some work on it myself, using what my dad had taught me plus stuff I learned in class, but the chances of it starting were always fifty-fifty. I tried again to start it, and it kept misfiring.
“We can take mine,” Tristen said, getting out of the truck and slamming the heavy door. Slamming it was the only way to fully close the damn thing.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He unlocked his Mustang. “Hop in.”
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