“Then what did you think?”
My cheeks heated. No way could I tell him what I’d really thought. No matter what, he could not find out I had a huge, embarrassing crush on him. So I blurted out something just as awful. “I thought I was an idiot.”
Noel blinked. “Huh?”
Damn it. Now I had to look away and address the bookshelves as I reluctantly admitted, “I judged you too harshly at the beginning of the semester and made biased, preconceived notions I shouldn’t have, based on my own past. Reading your paper told me I was utterly and completely wrong. I don’t blame you at all for what you had to do to save yourself and your brothers and sister. All this time, I thought you were the careless, arrogant, self-centered type who thought the world did and should revolve around you. I thought you would be a braggart, a show-off, and...and cruel.”
He tipped his head to the side. “Cruel?”
Scratching behind my ear and not even touching that one, all the while thinking about the cruel quarterback from my high school years, I cleared my throat. “The point is you completely astounded me. You had the courage to risk everything for the people you love. You came from an incredibly...difficult childhood, all the while taking on the responsibilities of your younger siblings, and still, you managed to accomplish so much. The whole paper was completely heartbreaking and inspirational. It was brilliant, and I needed an entire box of tissues to read it.”
I set my hand against the desk, hoping to brace myself and somehow stop the word vomit. To my complete horror, it kept gushing.
“I keep thinking about it and hoping the amazing man I read about accomplishes all his goals and finds a measure of satisfaction in his life. Plus I really hope he gets his family out of that awful place. And I really need to shut up now because this is truly embarrassing, and I’ve never said anything so unprofessional to a student before in my life. And if you knew what was good for you, you’d stand up and—”
Noel reached out and set his hand on the desk next to mine. He didn’t even touch me—a good three inches of space separated us—but it felt as if he’d just covered my fingers with his and squeezed pure life into me.
It effectively stopped my flow of words.
“Thank you,” he said. That’s all. One simple thank you and I almost started bawling. My lashes beat madly and my entire face was enflamed; I’m surprised I didn’t set off the smoke detectors.
When he leaned in toward me, I swayed closer too until we were both straining across the desk to meet in the middle.
He paused less than a foot away. “What am I doing?” he whispered aloud to himself.
I was kind of asking myself the same question. And why had I leaned in to meet him? Answering in my own covert whisper, I said, “I don’t know. What are you doing?”
He jerked back, ripping his hand off my desk. Balling his fingers into a fist, he brought them to his mouth, his expression full of frozen shock and dread as he gaped at me. Then he blinked, shook his head and quickly said, “Sorry.”
Since I was in total denial over the fact he’d even been entertaining the idea of kissing me, I arched my eyebrows. “For what?”
“Nothing,” he said immediately. He clutched the sides of his chair, still gawking at me with that petrified stare. “I’m going to go now.”
Shooting up to his feet, he whirled around and fled. But then he paused at my quote board. After digging into his pocket, he pulled free a sheet of folded paper. Without opening it, he plucked one of my tacks from the cork and stabbed his note into the center. Then he was gone, and the doorway where he’d disappeared looked extra empty.
A nanosecond later, I scrambled from my chair and snagged the note off my board. Whipping it open, I gaped slack-jawed at the words he’d written in a sloppy, bold scrawl.
“The greatest scholars are not usually the wisest people.” - Geoffrey Chaucer.
A second later, I shook my head and grinned. “Touché, Mr. Gamble. Touché.”
Literary scholar or not, I’d just made a huge mistake; I had let Noel Gamble know how much he affected me.
I was still rattled by the time I eased back into my chair. I stared at my ereader but couldn’t make myself reopen the story I’d been reading. All I could think about was—
My desk phone rang.
I answered without paying attention to what I was doing.
“Hey,” an upbeat male voice entered my ear. “Are we still on for tomorrow night?”
“What?” I shook my head. “Who is this?”
“It’s, uh...It’s Philip. Philip Chaplain...from the—”
“Oh, my God. I’m sorry. Of course.” Who else would it be? Wasn’t like I had an active social life. “I wasn’t thinking. Please excuse me. I have my Friday brain on.”
He gave an uncertain chuckle. “It’s fine. Been a long week.”