Educating Sophia Page 5

  My right hand curls into a fist when I think about how it felt to hold his. I still can’t believe I did that. I really can’t believe he allowed it either. As odd as it may sound, I’ve never felt closer to a human being than I did that night, sitting with him in the semi-lit auditorium, holding hands and feeling our connection grow by leaps and bounds.

  Well, clearly that connection has been severed as quickly as it started. No wonder my emotions are a jumbled up mess. One minute I’m sad, then I’m happy, then I’m terrified, then I’m mad. I’m actually surprised I made it here to Florida in one piece, all things considered.

  A knock at the front door pulls me out of my head. I glance at the clock, grimacing, as I stroll through the living room. I should have been dressed thirty minutes ago, but here I am, still lounging around in my pj’s, bedhead and all.

  Flinging open the door, I smile. Bella’s cutie-pie boyfriend, Jace, is standing there grinning at me, looking more like a surfer boy than the English teacher he is. With his wavy shoulder-length blond hair and impish grin, Jace could charm any woman right out of her panties. Good thing the only one he wants to charm is my sister. “Hey, Soph.” He eyes me up and down and frowns. “Uh, you’re not dressed.”

  As far as I’m concerned, Jace is a savior. He came into my sister’s life unexpectedly, and with much patience and love, he managed to help her find some peace with her very painful past. My sister suffered immensely from her date rape and subsequent abortion that happened during her first year at college. She never dealt with that emotionally and hid her past from every single one of us, shouldering her pain alone. And though I doubt none of us will ever know the extent of the trauma she went through, I’m grateful every single day that she has Jace’s support.

  “You noticed that, did you?” Stepping back, I wave him in. “Give me a few minutes. Sorry. I got caught up.” I don’t elaborate. What exactly would I say? That I’ve been pouting and feeling sorry for myself, mooning over the professor? Not so much.

  He wanders into the kitchen and helps himself to a cup of coffee. “No rush. Bella called and said that the doc is with them now anyway. We won’t be allowed in for a bit.”

  Worry settles over me. “Has something changed?”

  Propping his hip against the counter, he shakes his head. “Nope. Status quo.” His kind, hazel eyes warm. “How are you doing, kiddo? School going okay?”

  I don’t know if it is the kindness in his voice or the fact that he mentioned school to me, but suddenly I find myself overwhelmed with emotion and bursting into tears. Poor Jace. His eyes widen in shock a split second before he moves toward me and throws his arm around my shoulders. “Come sit down.” He guides me to the couch then perches his butt on the coffee table and takes my hands in his. “Okay, now tell Uncle Jace what’s going on.”

  “You’re not my uncle,” I sob.

  He chuckles, squeezing my hands. “Yeah, I know, but I feel like one sometimes.” Releasing one hand, he leans out and tips my chin up. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

  I spend a good ten minutes rambling and crying and sobbing my heart out about everything that’s been happening at school and with Caleb. Jace is such a sweet, nice guy he listens attentively and lets me have at it. Bella is one lucky girl. I wish I could find someone like Jace. I wish I could find anyone who didn’t despise me like Caleb does.

  I wish I knew how to walk away.

  “Have you talked to Bella about this guy?” I nod, sniffling and wiping my nose on my hand. “Well, from what you’ve told me it seems like he’s a pretty unhappy person.”

  With a shrug, I take a deep breath. “I don’t know, Jace. It seems like more than unhappiness.” It seems like the man has been hurt so deeply that he’s unwilling to allow himself the benefit of kindness.

  “Well, I’m no expert, but I will say that you might want to really consider the bigger picture before you get involved with him.”

  “Bigger picture?”

  “Soph, he’s a professor at your college and the guy you TA for. He could lose his job getting involved with you. They could give him bad references if he tried to get another teaching job. Is that what you want for him?” Jace has been a teacher for a while now so his words, more than my sister’s or Charlotte’s, come from a true place of knowing exactly what will happen in the real world.

  “No, of course not.” The thought of ever doing anything to harm Caleb’s reputation or career kills me. Whatever feelings I have for the man, there are many reasons why I should never pursue them—that being the biggest one.

  “I probably shouldn’t ask this, but are your brothers aware of this situation?”

  My eyes widen in shock. “Oh no. Oh hell no. Cruz would murder me if he knew I had a crush on a professor at my school.”

  Jace nods and takes a seat next to me on the couch. “Yeah, and Marco would threaten to kill the guy and Roman would purchase the gun.” He chuckles and tucks his hair behind one ear. “Maybe you should find a nice college boy to crush on.”

  I shudder at the suggestion but nod anyway. Caleb takes up so much of my thoughts, I doubt I’d have room to even consider anyone else. I have to ask myself, what do I really, truly want? Do I want to spend the next three or so months constantly in a state of limbo, fighting my feelings, allowing him to continue to walk all over me or do I walk away, remove myself as his TA, and chalk it all up to a lesson learned?

  Jace’s voice breaks into my inner debate. “Do you love this guy?”

  “No, I don’t.” I can’t even begin to know what love feels like. Since this has been a horrible disaster from the beginning, I’d qualify it rather as an unrefuted case of lust or a simple schoolgirl crush.

  Jace gives me a shove. “Go get dressed and I’ll take you to the hospital.” I fully appreciate his quick subject change. He obviously needs as much of a break from this conversation as I do.

  The hospital proves a good distraction from all my morose thoughts of Caleb. I spend the majority of the afternoon sitting with my parents in the pediatric waiting room. Mama does a whole lot of pacing, conversing with Cruz (in Spanish) whenever he walks in the door. Papa is stoic, holding my hand, talking about my classes, and generally attempting to keep our minds off the medical crisis at hand.

  Mia finally wanders in midafternoon, looking tired and pale and awful skinny for someone who just gave birth. I remind myself that she had her own health challenges with this; she experienced massive bleeding and required a few extra days to stay in the hospital. Though I’ve been reassured numerous times, by various members of the family, I still worry about this sweet gal who I’ve come to rely on as more than a friend—she’s another sister to me.

  She settles in a chair and takes my hand. “Thank you for coming.”

  “You don’t need to thank me. I’d have been here earlier but I had some tests.”

  She waves aside my comment with her hand. “I don’t want you skipping classes. Neither does Cruz.”

  “Is he in with the baby?”

  Mia smiles at me with tired eyes. “Yes. He’s hardly left her side since she was born.”

  “Where’s Thomas?”

  “He’s with my parents at our house. You’re welcome to go out there. Stay as long as you like.”

  Without saying so, this is Mia’s way of letting me know that my help would be welcome. “I’ll get someone to drive me out there.”

  She rummages around in her purse and hands me her keys. “Here. Take my car.”

  We exchange a long, tight hug. As I pull away, I ask, “So, have you named her yet?”

  Mia laughs. “No. We’re batting around a few names. Need to do it soon. They won’t release her without it.”

  “Sophia is a great name,” I quip, grinning at her. “I’ll get my stuff from Bella’s so I can stay at your house and your folks can come here. Anything I need to know?”

  Mia shakes her head. “There’s a list on the fridge. You know the rest.” I find her confidence in me amusing, consider
ing I probably spend the least amount of time with my two-year-old nephew. That being said, I’ve worked with toddlers practically my entire life, starting with babysitting when I first entered my teens and on through the current job I have at the preschool. I may not know squat about love or relationships, but I do know kids.

  On the drive out to Key Biscayne, in Mia’s new Range Rover, I consider all the changes our family has gone through in the past five years. Two of my brothers are married, one is engaged. Bella has met a great guy who I’m certain she’ll marry soon, and now I’ve got a brand-new niece and a sweet little nephew. I even have an adopted niece that Roman acquired when he hooked up with Sabrina. Emmy is a cool girl, considerably too smart for her age but a great addition to our ever-growing family.

  For all my whining about the situation with Caleb, I have a lot to be grateful for. My family is healthy now, happy and thriving. I’ll be graduating soon and starting the final phase of schooling needed to start my career. So what if I don’t have a man by my side to enjoy it all? I’ll enjoy it enough for two people.

  Looking back on my conversation with Jace, I consider that maybe he is right after all. Maybe Caleb is simply a very unhappy man. There’s the possibility that he doesn’t have the ability to care like most people do and that whatever pain he experienced in his past has made it impossible for him to trust. Or it could simply be as Jace suggested: he has so very much to lose by seeing me as something other than his TA.

  Suddenly it all makes sense to me. What I want doesn’t matter. The crush I have on him means nothing. Because it can’t. Whatever weird, unsettling vibe I get from him—and no matter how right his hand felt in mine—us being together is wrong. I’d end up expelled, he would most likely be faced with some sort of disciplinary action, and his reputation as a respected professor would be tarnished forever. Then what? All because I couldn’t keep my feelings to myself. How incredibly selfish is that?

  When I return to school, things need to change. I will speak to him, resign my position as his TA and find another professor to take me on as an assistant so I can get my hours in before graduation. It’s not at all what I want, but it is what has to happen. I’d bet he feels the same way. I wish I could ask to be sure.

  A deep cavern of pain settles in my chest at the thought of saying goodbye to him. He won’t know that my goodbye means I’m quitting him cold turkey: no accidental hallway meetings, no more sidewalk stalking. Walking away from him means doing everything in my power to stay as far away from him as possible. It’s for the best. I know it is. Letting go is what has to happen.

  Then why, I ask myself as my hair blows in the warm breeze, does it feel like letting him go means that he’ll take my heart with him?

  Disconnecting the call, I toss the phone aside and blow out an agitated breath. Between my lawyer and Rianne, I’m constantly being interrupted. After continuous badgering from my ex for weeks now, listening to her beg and plead for more money, I finally called my lawyer and asked him to intercede. This was not the path I wanted to go, but as usual, she pushed me there.

  I’ve been so busy dealing with my own shit I haven’t had time to think about the situation with Sophia. She’s apparently content with our non-communicative working relationship, as we’ve not spoken once this week. I will admit, I was surprised to see her at her desk Monday afternoon. After the dramatics of the week before, I had myself convinced she’d drop out and move home. I suppose she’s a bit tougher than I give her credit for.

  Turning to the computer, I consider yet again emailing her advisor and request she be placed elsewhere. I’ve tried over a dozen times, but every time I start to draft the request, something stops me.

  I’ve given more than enough thought to this situation to know that I’m at great risk to fuck up my future. I’m a strong man, but even the heartiest of us have our weaknesses. For someone used to being in charge all the time, admitting she might be my weakness is exasperating.

  My fingers move slowly across the keys, formulating words and deleting much of what I write. How exactly do I put into words that I need her removed to insure I keep my job? I need to be ready to answer the questions that will arise once I send this email. Has she completed the required tasks? Is her attendance good? As mundane as those inquiries will be, I have to expect them. It’s not like I can say I need her removed because I don’t trust myself with her.

  Mid-thought, a soft knock sounds at my door. Glancing at my watch, I see that it’s long after my office hours, so chances are it’s most likely the cleaning crew. Eyes back on the screen, I bark, “Come in,” and go right back to mulling over my draft.

  “Sorry to bother you, Professor. May I have a word?”

  At the first sound of her voice, every nerve ending in my body stands at attention. Schooling my shock isn’t easy. Neither is compartmentalizing the avalanche of need that suddenly takes over my body. Somehow I manage to pull myself together and glance at her with what I hope is a vague expression.

  “Yes. Make it quick. I’m busy.”

  Sophia nods and moves across the room, refusing to take either of the two empty chairs. She stands there nervously, looking down at the desk, hands laced together in front of her body. Her fear is profound. I can feel it in the air that surrounds me, in the warmth that transcends from her body to mine, and I react in kind. A heavy feeling settles over my chest as I turn to face her and force a casual stance by leaning back in my chair.

  “Professor, I wanted you to know that I’m meeting with my advisor tomorrow.” She takes a deep breath and stubbornly turns her gaze to mine. “I’m going to request that I be removed as your TA.”

  She’s making this too damn easy for me. Saving me the hassle of answering all the questions, not making me look like the bad guy. She has effectively made the decision for me, which should please me. Instead, my only reaction is one of anger. Molten hot, blood-thirsty anger.

  “Is that so?”

  She nods, eyes widening at my dark tone. “Yes, sir. I think … um … it’s for the best.”

  “You think so, do you?” I cannot contain the edge of disdain as I speak, getting to my feet and placing my hands on top of the desk. “Have you considered how much work that will be for me?”

  Sophia frowns and shifts her weight to the other foot. “N-no?”

  “Your leaving will make a lot of work for me, Miss Moran. I’ll have to take time from my schedule to meet with your advisor just to be grilled as to why you feel the need to abandon your position. Then I’ll have to completely train someone new to do your job.” Leaning across the desk, I growl, “Does it look like I have time to deal with this pettiness?”

  She swallows hard and tucks her hair behind her ear. “No, of course not. But I just …”

  “You just what? You’re too caught up in all your personal drama to do the job you were assigned?” Coming out from the desk, I shove my hands into my pockets and move slowly toward her. “I have news for you, little girl, contrary to what you might believe, life does not stop simply because issues arise. Learn to deal with it, Miss Moran. Deal with it or do us all a favor and drop out and go home.”

  Tirade ended, I come to a stop next to her. I fully expect her to dissolve into tears or start to apologize profusely, but she surprises me completely when her shoulders stiffen and she lifts her chin. “I’m not leaving my job because of family drama, Professor.” The words sting as they fall from her tongue. “I’m leaving because of you.” Her mocha eyes darken with anger. “You’re a miserable man who takes out his own pain on us lesser minions.” Cheeks flushed with emotion, her eyes narrow. “Try looking in the mirror once in a while. You might see exactly why people can’t stand to be around you.”

  When she turns to walk away, I react impulsively, grasping her arm and halting her. The moment my skin touches hers, I feel the same burn I experienced when we held hands. A tangible connection I’ve been pretending hasn’t been there since the beginning. She comes to a stop but refuses to turn to face me.
Stubborn woman. Doesn’t she know her indignation is like lighting a match between us?

  Stepping up behind her, I wrap my free arm around her waist and pull her body tight against mine, lowering my voice as I lean over and speak into her ear. “I think you like to be around me.”

  Her body softens in my embrace, and she stammers, “I … I d-don’t.”

  Dragging in a breath, I let the sweet scent of her hair fill my nostrils. “Yes you do.” Bending closer, I allow my breath to wash across her ear, enjoying the shudder she omits. “I think you’re leaving because you’re scared.”

  Her eyes close and she whispers, “Scared of what?”

  My hand splays across her stomach, her erratic breathing lifting it up and down. My own breathing mimics hers, and I can feel myself hardening at our closeness. “Scared of me.” I give her another tug, leaving no space between our bodies, allowing her to feel exactly how lost I am in this—and in her. “Scared of this.”

  Her mouth falls open, pink tongue coming out to wet her lips. Her hand, which has remained at her side until now, comes up to entwine with mine. “I am.” Her other arm lifts, fingers wrapping around my neck then sliding into my hair. “I think you are too.” Head tipped back, she rests against my chest and sighs.

  She has me so hard now, I can’t think. I can only stand there with her locked in my embrace, imagining all the ways I could end this. She makes everything so simple, silently giving me access to all those slim curves, molding her body against mine, back arched, ass tucked neatly against my groin. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider propping her up on the edge of my desk and fucking the stubbornness right out of her.

  A noise in the auditorium snaps me out of my fantasy, and I immediately release her and take a step back, scowling, “What the fuck are you doing to me?”

  Sophia turns slowly, brown eyes hazy with need. “I could ask you the same question.”