Professional, Elliot.Be professional.
It’s the mantra I’ve been using since the night of the department reception when Dean Miller almost caught me kissing Amelia on his patio. The pull to her was so intense, the electricity between us so strong, that I entirely forgot where I was. If we hadn’t been interrupted, my lips absolutely would have been on hers, and it would have been the wrong choice even though I know it would have felt so right.
Because for the last week, the dean has been giving me the side-eye, walking towards me like he has something to say and then seeming to think better of it and switching directions. He’s called me to his office twice for random shit that absolutely could have been an email—or never mentioned at all. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I don’t think so. And even though he’s an asshole, he’s the asshole in charge of my job, and the one in charge of Amelia’s PhD.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Amelia says, breaking me out of my thoughts, her gaze bouncing between me and Cece, who is still leaning back in her chair, now with a shit eating grin on her face. “I can go if you’re busy.”
“Nonsense!” Cece exclaims, getting up from her chair and turning to face Amelia. “And who do we have here?”
Amelia looks over at me with ahelp meexpression on her face, but I just grin at her and watch the show. “Uh, I’m Amelia.”
Cece’s back is to me, but I can feel the sharpening of her gaze as if I saw it with my own eyes. Out of all the eighty-year-old grandmas in the world, I had to get the one who literally never forgets a single thing. “Amelia, huh? And who are you to our Elliot?”
“He’s my professor?” She phrases it like a question, then tugs her sweatshirt down and starts looping the string of the hoodie around her fingers, nervous energy cascading off her at the same time as her gaze travels from my face down my chest and back up again, the naked interest on her face making my cock stand up and take notice. While a hard on in my office as my grandma is standing there is inconvenient, the way Amelia is looking at me makes me want to stand up and cheer. And kiss the breath out of her. And…other things. So many other things.
“Oh, now honey, from the way he’s been talking about you since you two met on that airplane and the way he’s looking at you right now, I think he’s quite a great deal more than just your professor. And my god, you are just the spitting image of your brother. I’ve never met him in person, but from the way my grandson Jordan talks about him, it sounds like he’s a good man and a great friend. I’m just so happy to meet you.”
Amelia looks around Cece and narrows her eyes at me, her gaze shooting fire. “You told your grandma about me?”
I hold up both my hands and try to school my expression. I have a choice in this moment to be irritated at Cece or amused by her antics, and when given that choice, it’s always best to choose amusement. “I swear I didn’t tell her your last name. She knew I met a girl named Amelia on the plane because, I mean, it’s not a secret I was a little bit obsessed with you. Am a little obsessed with you,” I amend, because I figure Cece has already dug my hole and I might as well just commit. “I told her you showed upin my class because, well, I was happy to see you. But I didn’t tell her who you were related to. She just put all those pieces together herself. Cece works in mysterious ways.”
“He’s right, honey.” Cece pats Amelia’s arm. “It’s like I was just saying to El before you walked in, the information I need just seems to come to me at the right time. And it’s not me who works in mysterious ways. It’s the universe.” Cece shrugs her shoulders, and at the motion, a tinyyipcomes from her bag. Amelia looks startled, but I just scrub a hand over my face and suppress a groan.
“Cece, is it possible that you smuggled my dog into my place of work in that massive bag of yours?”
Cece rolls her eyes at the ceiling. “Now, Elliot, why would I do something like that? Dogs don’t belong in the computer science department.” Her bag yips again and then starts to shake, and five seconds later, my dog’s little head pokes out of the top.
“Oh, my god!” Amelia squeals, dropping down to her knees and scratching Killer’s head. “You must be Killer. You’re even cuter than your picture.” If it was possible for a dog to preen, that’s exactly what Killer is doing right now. Amelia plucks her out of Cece’s bag and cuddles her up, nuzzling her cheek against Killer’s soft head, and I’d be a lying liar who lies if I said the sight of the girl I can’t get out of my head lavishing my dog with attention didn’t have warmth spreading through me. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I tried.
Apparently, neither can Cece, who is looking at Amelia and my dog and then back at me with sunshine practically beaming out of her eyes.
Amelia glances over at me with a grin while Killer stretches her head up and licks Amelia’s face. Amelia lets out an honest to god giggle, and I think I fall a little bit in love on the spot. “You’re forgiven for talking about me to your entire family. Anyone with a dog this lovable can’t be that bad.”
“High praise, Mystery Girl,” I say, grinning right back at her. “If my dog is what puts a smile that big on your face, I’ll bring her to school every damn day.”
Amelia’s gaze shoots to Cece and then back to me as if to saycool it in front of the grandma. Cece doesn’t miss a thing. “It’s okay, honey, I already know he has it bad for you, and unless the spirits are moving me wrong today, you’ve got it bad right back for him.”
“Oh, um, I’m not…I mean I don’t…I can’t…shit,” Amelia mutters, shaking her head and focusing her attention on my dog who has fallen back to sleep in her arms.
Cece’s eyes go soft and a little sympathetic. “It’s the professor/student thing, isn’t it?”
“Among other things,” Amelia mumbles.
Cece nods. “I bet you’re trying to make a name for yourself apart from your brother. It couldn’t have been easy growing up in his shadow. I bet he casts a long one, and you’re trying to carve out a spot in the world that’s just your own. A relationship with a professor probably won’t help you do that.”
Amelia stares at Cece. “Are you magic?”
Cece chuckles. “Maybe a little. But also, I just see what I see and know what I know. What I see here are two people with enough fiery attraction to level the building, and what I know is that you’ll figure out a way to work this out. In the meantime, I’ll leave you to it. What isit, exactly, anyway?”
I laugh at her inquisitive expression. “Shouldn’t you already know that?”
Cece waves that away. “If I knew, why would I be asking you?”
Now it’s Amelia’s turn to laugh. “I’m helping Elliot with some research he’s doing. We’re meeting to talk about it.”
“Ah,” Cece says, knowing smile on her face. “The postcards, right?”
“Yep,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “Amelia offered to help me figure out who Henry is so we can piece the story together.”
