Change of Course: A MM Professor/Student Novel (Change of Hearts Book 3)

by Sierra Hill

  Aftershocks of pleasure seem to continue until we’re both spent and spread out against the cool, soft linens of the sheets.

  “Kyler,” he whispers from beside me on the pillow. “I’d understand if you regret what we did last night and want to back out. But I don’t. Not for one second. You’ve brought me more happiness than I ever thought possible. You make me whole where there was once just a void. I want to share my life with you…every aspect of it.”

  I roll to my side to face him again, breathing in his scent and the scent of us in the air around us, noting the sincerity in his tone and the way he looks so at peace right now.

  I hadn’t realized it before, because I thought it was just how Lucas was made, but he has been strung tight as if he didn’t know how to relax and just be who he was meant to be. And maybe he’s right. Maybe I’ve had something to do with that.

  He doesn’t regret it. He doesn’t regret being with me.

  “I love you, Kyler. I don’t want to hide that any longer. Not from you or the world.”

  “But what about your grandmother? And the university?”

  The idea that he could be dismissed from his position has always been a concern of mine. I don’t want to be the one who gets between him and what he’s worked so hard to achieve. I could never forgive myself if I’m the catalyst that ignites a fire that destroys his career.

  His fingers feather over my skin before lacing through my hair.

  “Leave all of those worries to me. They are inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. My grandmother doesn’t control my life. She may think she does, but I’m not beholden to her money or her estate and I’m fine without it.”

  “How much money, exactly, would you stand to lose?”

  His eyebrows arch mischievously. “Close to ten million.”

  I choke out my response in a half-screech. “Dollars?”

  Oh my God, this is so bad. What have we done?

  “Yes. And if my grandmother sticks to her end of the bargain and what she’s been dangling in front of me for years, then part of that money is yours, Kyler.”

  I shake my head, adamantly refusing what he’s saying. Denying what he means to give me. There is no way I’m going to take his money. It’s precisely why I never want to be in the situation I was with Max. I don’t want to be owned by anyone.

  “Kyler. Listen to reason. I married you because I love you. It’s not about the money. And you said yourself you’re in debt. Let me help you pay off your loans free and clear. Whether you stay married to me or not, it’ll be yours. I don’t need that kind of money. I’d rather share it—and a life—with you.”

  Flopping back on the mattress, I close my eyes in a sigh. “This is surreal. I think I need a drink.”

  “Good. I’m up for some room service.”

  Room service. A ten-million-dollar inheritance. Marriage.

  Am I living in a dream?

  40

  Lucas

  My first order of business when we got back into town is sharing my news with Garrett. Then the school, and finally, my grandmother. The priority was coming out to Garrett, which was long overdue.

  Although I’d rather have informed him in a more personal and private of occasions, today is Thanksgiving, and Garrett has invited me over to his house for dinner. His mother has flown in from Indiana, along with his former sister-in-law, Addison, and her young son, Caleb’s cousin.

  Brooklyn has returned to her hometown in California to be with her family and Kyler was adamant that he not be there when I shared the news with Garrett. He also used the excuse of having to work and doing dinner with Peyton.

  His refusal to join me led to our first disagreement as a married couple, as I felt he should be with me – as my new husband – when I broke the news to Garrett.

  As the old saying goes, choose your battles. So, I gave him a long kiss, with promises for more later tonight when he returned to my bed, and I drove the few miles over to Garrett’s house.

  Pulling up into the curved driveway and past the electric security gate, I use my meditation breathing techniques to get a grip on my nerves that are frayed like an old pair of jeans.

  Garrett and I have been friends since college – well over ten years – and I’ve been by his side through all the highs and lows of life up to this point. My hope is that when it’s reversed and I need him on my side, he’ll be understanding of my life choice and decision to get married.

  I suck in a breath and knock on the front door, which is immediately opened by my godson.

  “Unca Wuuk!” Caleb greets, his hands thrown up in the air for me to lift him high into my arms.

  I snuggle him close and breathe in the sweet little boy scent of baby bath soap and sweat.

  “Hey, bud. How’s my favorite godson doing today?”

  He wiggles in my arms and thrusts his hand toward my face showing me his palm which is marked up with a palette of festive colors.

  “We made twurkeys.”

  I give him a wide smile before setting him down and grabbing for the walker he tossed aside when he opened the door.

  “That’s awesome, bud. Let’s go see your turkeys.”

  He leads the way, his gated step pronounced, but getting smoother and more fluid from countless hours of therapy. It fills me with pride to see his great strides in his progress, as well as the work Brooklyn has done in his life and in Garrett’s. Which is why I hope he’ll be able to share in my newfound happiness, as well.

  We take a corner in the large ranch house to find everyone in the kitchen, working at the counters on some food prep tasks. Garrett stands with his back to me at the kitchen sink, peeling potatoes, his six-foot-six frame dwarfing his mother and sister-in-law beside him.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone,” I greet, placing the bottle of wine I’d been holding in my hand down on the island counter, as each of them peer over their shoulders at me.

  I’m gifted warm holiday smiles from everyone as they stop their prep work and as I step to each of them and they take turns hugging me.

  “My word, Lucas, you are looking so fit and healthy. How do you stay so trim?” Garrett’s mother, Corinne, asks with a bit of a midwestern accent as she dries off her hands with the dishtowel.

  Corinne and Addison have known me just as long as Garrett. They lived in Indiana not far from the university we attended, and I’d go home with him often. When Garrett’s brother, Thad, Addison’s late husband, and Garrett’s wife Becca were alive, we’d see them at family events or when they traveled to watch our games quite often.

  Garrett always remarked that I was more of a brother to him than his own brother, which at the time wasn’t what I longed to hear. But now it means the world to me.

  I step back from Corinne and envelope Addie in my arms, kissing her lightly on the temple. “Good to see you, Addie. Where’s Wyatt?”

  She waves a hand in the air pointing toward the family room. “Watching Paw Patrol.”

  Nodding in understanding, as I’ve spent many hours with Caleb doing the very same thing, I pat Garrett on the shoulders with both hands.

  “Hey, G. Good to see they put you to work with an easy task. We all know you can’t cook worth shit.”

  He bellows out a loud scoff. “You’d think they’d give me a break knowing I worked all week and have games to prepare for this weekend. But nooooo…they are task masters, these two.”

  The potato peeler is aimed accusingly toward the women over his shoulder with a laugh.

  “Tell us what you’ve been up to lately, Lucas. Garrett said you just got back from some art show in Vegas?”

  I rummage through the kitchen drawer to extract the wine bottle opener, busying myself with something to do as I try in vain not to spill the beans right here and now.

  “Yeah, it was a pretty exciting weekend. Kyler, my student,” I choke on the words because they are wholly inadequate to describe him at this point in time. “He had an original piece of art showcased in the event and
actually sold it.”

  Garrett’s head snaps around. “That’s awesome, man. I’ll have to congratulate him the next time he’s over.”

  I take a large gulp of wine and nod my head, murmuring a “Mmm-hmm.”

  I’m pouring two other glasses of wine and offer one to Addison, holding out my hand as she takes it and then stops, her eyes glued to my hand. Specifically, my ring finger.

  Her eyes dart up to mine and I give her a silent plea, pursing my lips together tightly and shaking my head the tiniest bit. Addie’s forehead wrinkles in question but she keeps quiet and accepts the glass of wine.

  Okay, now or never.

  “Hey, G. Can I talk to you for a moment before we start dinner?”

  Addison, realizing what I’m up to, jumps to my rescue, scooting over to the sink and takes the peeler out of Garrett’s hands. “Move over and let the professional take over.”

  41

  Lucas

  Garrett makes a scoffing noise but gladly complies, wiping his hands off on the towel and waggling his brows at me conspiratorially.

  “I’ve learned over time that if you act incompetent in the kitchen, you can get to watching football much faster.”

  Both Addie and Corinne snort their dismay but smile as I follow Garrett down the hallway toward his office, Garrett cracking open a beer as we do. We check on Caleb and Wyatt to make sure they’re behaving and find them making a fort out of blankets and cushions from the couch.

  I sigh wistfully. “Remember when life was that easy?”

  Garrett gives a nod of agreement as he enters the office smiling, completely unaware of what I’m about to lay on him. I grab the bottle of scotch from the cabinet and pour us both drinks, handing him one and downing mine like it’s Kool-aide. This garners me a curious arched brow.

  “Sorry,” I shrug. “Liquid courage.”

  His tall frame collapses into the leather upright chair and I stay in place, pacing a bit back and forth, worrying my bottom lip.

  “Dude, what the hell is wrong? You’re scaring me here.”

  I’ve had this script laid out in my head for days now and every word I wanted to say seems to get lost in a cloud of confusion and nerves. Inhaling a calming breath, I exhale slowly, and stare down at the pattern of the rug, focusing on the minute details to gather courage for what I’m about to tell him.

  “I fell in love and got married.”

  Not exactly how I planned on sharing this, but it definitely makes a statement.

  Garrett jumps to his feet in surprise, placing his glass on the desk, and clasps me on the shoulders with both hands.

  “Holy shit! Congratulations, Luc. When did all this happen? I didn’t even know you were dating someone. Who’s the lucky woman?’

  I lift my gaze to my best friend’s face, his sincerity evident in the lilt of his eyes, and the smile adorning his mouth.

  It’s then he takes a quick look at my hand and notices the silver band on my ring finger. He shakes his head incredulously.

  “It happened in Vegas. And yeah, I’ve been seeing someone for months. But I don’t have a new wife.” I cough, choking out the next sentence. “I have a husband.”

  The change in Garrett’s appearance is almost comical, his shock and emotion finally registering on what I’ve said, and his facial expression flipping like channel changes on a TV.

  His brows narrow with a serious question. “Come again? Did you say husband?”

  I nod and lift a shoulder as if it’s no biggie. As if I didn’t just tell him in a roundabout way that I’m gay.

  “But…I don’t understand, Luc. You’re not gay.” He steps back, perhaps unintentionally, but the move signals his discomfort. “Are you?”

  As if the weight of that question is too much for him to handle, he reaches for the arm of the chair and slowly lowers his body, clearly in a state of confusion.

  I do the same, taking the seat next to him, wanting so badly to reach out and touch him. To connect with him and remind him that this doesn’t change anything between us. He’s my best friend and I’m his and my sexual orientation shouldn’t change that.

  “Yes, I am gay. I’ve known I prefer men since college.” The last word comes out in barely a whisper but seems to hit Garrett like a gale force wind, his body jerking backwards and his eyes pinning me with censure.

  “Fucking college? You’ve kept this from me that long?”

  Oh Jesus. Here we go.

  I knew this part would end up hurting him because I haven’t been honest. He’s shared everything with me, and I’ve kept this very important aspect of myself hidden.

  Garrett jumps back up, pacing the floor that I was just staring at seconds before. He moves to the bookshelves, picks up a photo of us in our college team photo. He stares at it and is quiet for several minutes.

  “I thought I knew everything about you, man. Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me?” He swings his head over to me and his eyes implore me to explain. But how can I?

  My head falls between my shoulders and I cup my head in my hand, elbows digging into my thighs. It’s excruciating to be in this moment, as Garrett works to wrap his head around all this news, and me feeling the guilt of keeping it all from him.

  “I didn’t come out then because I wasn’t absolutely sure. And back then, folks weren’t as accepting of gay athletes.”

  “You’ve had years since…” he snaps angrily.

  “I know. But then I started on my career and didn’t date much, so I pushed it all aside. I don’t know, I guess I tried to pretend it wasn’t who I was. Who I am.”

  “You dated women. You fucked women! And you were engaged to Daniella.”

  I peer up at him through my lashes, twisting my lips in an “I don’t know what to tell ya” look.

  “Yeah, I did. Maybe that makes me bisexual? But I didn’t love Daniella and didn’t feel the same way about her – or any woman I’ve ever dated – as I do Kyler.”

  Saying his name out loud is like pulling the pin and throwing the grenade into a bunker, watching it explode.

  Garrett’s eyes widen in shock and his mouth opens and closes, the name registering in his head of who I married.

  “Kyler? Brooklyn and Peyton’s friend and roommate? That Kyler? Holy shit.”

  Garrett finally downs his drink and refills his glass, bringing it to his lips and then stopping to turn back toward me.

  “Wait a minute. Isn’t he your student?”

  I make a noise through my teeth, sucking my tongue between my lips.

  “Yup. One in the same.”

  As if the initial intensity of the shock has worn off, Garrett resumes his seated position and gives me a thoughtful cock of his head.

  “I distinctly recall you saying not so very long ago when I was telling you about my dilemma with Brooklyn that you would never date a student. That you were going to become, and I quote, a monk.”

  I chuckle ruefully because I remember that conversation in my office one day not long after Garrett had become involved with Brooklyn. He was torn up over the conflict of interest of dating his nanny and had asked me what I would do if I was in that situation with a student. I was honest when I said I would never get involved with a younger female student.

  “Yes, you’re right. And I wasn’t in a relationship at the time. And, for the record, I said twenty-year-old female students didn’t do it for me. Which they don’t.”

  I flash him a grin that says, checkmate.

  The tension in the room suddenly dissipates, the levy breaking, as Garrett roars out in laughter.

  “Tomato, tomaaahto. But you got me there.” He shakes his finger at me with a smirk and a sigh. “Wow. Okay then. Now that we have that all cleared up…congratulations! So why isn’t your new husband joining us for Thanksgiving? Tell him to get his ass over here so we can celebrate your nuptials.”

  And with that, Garrett pulls me up by the shirt collar and gives me a tight, friendship affirming hug.

  Confirmin
g once again the reason why he’s my best friend.

  And always will be.

  42

  Kyler

  “How did your grandmother take it? Did she disown you?” I ask with a laugh, gnawing on a piece of celery that I pulled from Lucas’s fridge, starving after my three-hour dancing gig tonight.

  While I was at work tonight at the club – which I still haven’t mentioned yet to Lucas – he had called his grandmother to tell her about our marriage. Since it had gone so smoothly with Garrett, Lucas was going to ride the holiday wave and call his grandmother right away.

  Lucas sets his laptop to the side and peers at me from over the rim of his glasses. He looks so scholarly hot right now, his shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his hair messy and tousled. This man – my husband – has a sex appeal that is so big it overwhelms me. And I don’t often get thrown by a man’s appearance.

  He pats the spot on the couch next to him and then flings his arm over the back of the couch, where I snuggle into his side, basking in his warmth and deliciously masculine scent. I’ve become so used to coming home at night and sleeping next to this man. It’s a feeling I’ve never had before – contentment and fulfillment. It’s an equal give and take between us, which is what I never experienced when I was with Max.

  Lucas’s fingers toy with the strands of hair in the back of my neck and I curl into him further.

  “Jocelyn took it surprisingly well.”

  I snap my head back and give him an ‘are you serious?’ look.

  “Is this a normal reaction from her? I mean, in one conversation you come out to her and then tell her you married a man in Vegas. That’s a lot to digest for a staunch conservative.”

  Lucas reflects thoughtfully for a moment. “Yeah, it is, which makes me a little leery. But she has always supported LGBTQ rights and groups with corporate donations. She’s very open-minded about love. And remember, this is a woman who basically told me she didn’t expect me to marry for love, but out of obligation.”