Page 86 of The Equation of Us
As Sadie heads off to her next class, I sit with my cooling coffee, thumbing through Dean’s texts again. Two weeks until the Archer deadline. One night to figure out where we stand.
I type a response, finally.
Me:We need to talk.
His reply comes almost instantly.
Dean:Everything okay?
No, I think. Nothing is okay.
Me:I’ll explain tonight. 8pm? Your place.
Dean:I’ll be waiting.
I pocket my phone, gathering my courage along with my books. Whatever happens tonight, one thing is certain—nothing between Dean and me will be the same afterward.
Chapter Thirty
The Talk
Nora
I arrive at Dean’s apartment at 8:02. Two minutes late. My hands are cold despite the mild spring evening.
He opens the door before I knock. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
He’s in jeans and a faded University of Michigan hockey t-shirt. He’s gorgeous like this—casual and boyish and smiling at me.
It’s undoubtedly distracting.
But I need to talk first.
He steps back, giving me space to enter. The apartment smells like him—clean soap, a hint of cedar, and the faint scent of the vanilla protein powder he uses.
“Do you want something to drink?” he asks.
“No.” I set my bag down, swallowing hard. “I need to tell you something.”
His expression shifts, wariness replacing desire. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Maybe. I don’t know.” I take a breath. “Professor Wexler called me today.”
“Okay.”
“About the Archer Initiative.”
Dean stills, his full attention now razor-focused on me. “What about it?”
I explain quickly.
One position now, not three.
Career-defining opportunity.
Wexler nominating me from Neuroscience.
