by M. J. O'Shea
Avery fluffed her hair as he walked by. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have lecture in twenty minutes?”
“Forty. You know why I’m in here.”
Of course he did. “Because you want to know about Tyson? I don’t really have anything else to tell you.”
“Are you going to see him again soon?” Macy crossed her legs and peered at him. It was her best teaching stare, and hell if Avery was going to fall for it.
“Are you ever going to stop asking questions?” he fired back.
She scoffed. “No.”
“I mean, you were there, you walked me home. You saw everything that happened. There weren’t any secret rendezvous after we left.”
“That’s a bit disappointing. What’s a hot guy in a strange bar if there isn’t secret sex?”
Avery swatted at her from across the desk.
He’d spent most of yesterday sleeping off the all-nighter, and then he’d traded a few texts with Tyson and spent the rest of his evening attempting to grade papers and getting seriously distracted. To tell the truth, he wouldn’t have said no to some secret sex.
Macy huffed and stood. “Well, I want to know as soon as something else happens.”
“And with you and Donovan?” Avery liked how Macy looked with Donovan. Soft. Happy. Maybe she wasn’t ready for something real, but if she were, she could pick much worse guys. At least from what Avery could tell so far. Plus, Donovan was smart and interesting, and Avery wanted Macy to feel all giddy like he did.
“I already told you. Not serious and I’m not planning to be.”
“And you think Tyson and I are?”
She gave him a don’t-be-dumb look. “Yes. I think anyone within a ten-mile radius could tell just how serious you two are about whatever’s happening.”
She wasn’t wrong. Avery made a shooing motion. “I have to get ready for my ten o’clock. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“You’d better. Text me.”
“I will, I will. Go do your job.”
Macy’s laugh echoed down the hallway.
AVERY had just gotten his talking points all settled—he was never going to be a “fly by the seat of his pants” kind of teacher even if he’d taught the material for years—and made it to class just as the students filed in. He was still distracted from the weekend and had to make a concerted effort to get his game together. By the time the students were all in, he was ready. At least as ready as he was going to get.
He started where they’d left off on Friday—with more local vampire legends. He was just getting into the story where a prostitute jumped from a second-story window and ran all the way to the police, when he noticed something in the back of the room. The door had opened and closed silently, and suddenly he caught a glimpse of a very familiar blond head slipping into one of the rare empty seats in the back row. His heart caught in his throat.
What are you doing here?
All of Avery’s carefully planned talking points and mustered concentration got stuck in the back of his throat. Suddenly he couldn’t remember his vampires versus his pirates, werewolves, or chupacabras. Tyson. A hell of a distraction. Especially when they caught glances and Tyson grinned at him like he was part of some inside joke. Avery cleared his throat, shuffled his notes, and tried to get back to the job at hand.
He finally managed to ignore Tyson’s presence, to a point at least, and got back into the story. The students were near silent, scratching down notes and listening raptly. None of them had noticed what felt like a huge distraction to him. Maybe it hadn’t been all that bad. Avery still was very aware of Tyson’s presence, but Tyson didn’t make any more attempts to distract him. In fact, from where Avery was standing, Tyson seemed to listen just as intently as his students. He didn’t take notes, but he barely moved until the story was over.
Avery was glad to dismiss the students at the end of class. Luckily it wasn’t a day for questions, because he somehow felt like he couldn’t answer them in front of Tyson, like somehow maybe Tyson might have better answers than he did. He gathered his notes together with shaking hands and put them into his messenger bag.
He looked up to find Tyson after the rest of the students filed out of class, but he was gone. Avery waited for a minute or two but then chalked it up to some giant wishful hallucination and started the short walk back to his office. Of course he should’ve expected Tyson to be lounging in the chair across from his when he got there.
Avery jumped a bit but then shook his head fondly and sat in his own office chair.
“Are these your office hours, Professor Cook?” Tyson gave him big innocent eyes. They were slightly ruined by his mischievous grin.
“You’re trouble.” Avery chuckled. “What were you doing there today? Do you have any idea how hard it was to finish that lecture with you there?”
“I was interested in your class. You made it sound fascinating, so of course I wanted to check it out. I’ve been thinking about going back to get another degree, anyway. I figured I’d visit campus.”
Avery shook his head. “Don’t you have to go to… a job?” He realized that in all of his babbling about his own career he hadn’t asked Tyson about his. Or else maybe Tyson had deftly maneuvered the conversation so he didn’t talk much about himself. Avery couldn’t remember. He supposed that was the effect of too many Nightcrawlers.
“No, I don’t have to go to a job. I work from home in my own time. It’s nice to be back here. I haven’t been on campus for a while.” He looked wistful, like he missed being part of the college scene. “You did very well up there today.” Tyson sounded oddly proud.
“I did?” Avery thought that had been one of his worst lectures in quite a while, distractions and all.
“Don’t act so surprised. I saw how many students were in that lecture hall.”
“Um, thanks.” He’d never been good at taking compliments.
“You might have gotten a few things wrong, but hey… it takes a real local, right?”
Avery was immediately interested. “Wait. What do you mean I got things wrong? Tell me.”
Tyson chuckled. “We’ll get to that another day.”
Avery made a noise to protest, but Tyson stood and came around to his side of the desk. He kneeled in front of Avery’s rolling chair and looked up at him. “Is it creepy that I really want to kiss you right now? I’m having, like, this… hot professor thing in my head.”
“Oh my God.” Avery laughed. “But yes. Kiss me, please.”
Tyson stood and pulled Avery with him. Then he leaned over, and it was just like Saturday night all over again when they kissed. Avery didn’t think it was possible for a kiss to feel so good. And then he didn’t think at all. He simply wrapped his arms around Tyson’s neck and surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure of lips and soft, seeking tongue and nibbling teeth. Tyson walked him backward until Avery was crowded up against the bookshelves, with the spines of novels and textbooks pressing into his back. It shouldn’t have been so hot. He shouldn’t have wanted to pull Tyson even closer, open his legs for Tyson’s thigh, and let himself be pressed. Taken over. But damn, he wanted to. He leaned his head to the side and let Tyson kiss down the side of his neck while he wound his fingers into Tyson’s hair and tugged.
“So sexy,” Tyson murmured. “We’ve gotta stop.”
He didn’t, though. Not yet. Instead he went back to Avery’s lips and started all over with the sinking, nibbling kiss. Avery felt like he was going to melt right into the bookcase.
“Jesus, where’d you learn how to do that?” he breathed when he and Tyson finally separated.
“I didn’t.” Tyson laughed softly, like he couldn’t quite believe it either. “I think it’s just… chemistry?”
“Who knows?” Avery smirked to cover up how turned-on and shaken he was. “I’m a history teacher. I don’t know how those sciencey things work.”
TYSON had been very impressed by Avery’s lecture. He wasn’t just saying it to be nice. Hell, he
’d been so busy just watching Avery half the time—buzzing around the front of the lecture hall, telling stories like some bard of old to his rapt audience—that he’d forgotten how cynical he usually was about the subject. Watching Avery teach was incredible, like someone else had taken over his body, someone who wasn’t shy and soft-spoken, apologetic when he waxed enthusiastic about his favorite subject. He was charismatic. Bold. By the time Tyson was finished realizing that was really Avery up there, the guy he’d been with all weekend, he was already sucked into stories he knew like the back of his hand. He’d been just as taken in as the rest of the students.
The irony was, Tyson would have never chosen to go to Avery’s class if it hadn’t been Avery teaching it. The amount of shit people got wrong usually kept him from classes about paranormal creatures or urban legends, but Avery was… well researched. Better researched than Tyson would’ve thought possible. And the things he got wrong? Well, nobody could really fault him for that. It wasn’t like the local vampire crew was out there sharing everything they knew. Most people would search for the practical within tales of the occult. Tyson would have himself if he didn’t know for a fact half the “stories” weren’t stories at all.
TYSON lounged idly in Avery’s office while Avery finished with a few emails. He supposed he shouldn’t feel so comfortable when they were in essence strangers who’d had two encounters—intense as they were—but Avery didn’t feel like a stranger. In a way he felt like the person Tyson had always wanted to find, back when he was hopeful and looking for love. He picked up one of Avery’s pencils and twirled it.
“You should talk about the Hotel Monteleone next time. It has some awesome stories.”
“Hmmm?” Avery clicked a button and then returned his full attention to Tyson. Tyson loved having Avery’s attention. He thought he could easily get addicted to it.
“The Hotel Monteleone. Is that part of your class?”
Avery smiled. “There’s a bit in my book about it, but I’ve focused more on paranormal creatures than on hauntings. Please, do tell. Or maybe I could have you in as a guest lecturer. I bet the girls would like that… and probably some of the boys as well.”
Tyson rolled his eyes. He was tired of his face most days. He didn’t see anything special about it. He had to admit he liked the way Avery looked at him, though. It was like he’d never seen anyone so gorgeous in his life. Since Tyson felt that way about Avery, it kind of worked out.
“I wouldn’t mind, honestly. I’ve lectured here before.”
“Um, how? I’ve been here for six years, and I certainly don’t remember any gorgeous kid professors taking the campus by storm.”
Fuck. He was twenty-seven. Tyson was seriously out of practice at remembering what details he’d told people. Probably because he hadn’t spent any real time around someone who didn’t know better than to ask in decades.
“You probably missed it. Just a little anthro class a couple of years ago.” Tyson waved it off. “Besides, you can’t talk, boy genius. You were a kid yourself when you started here.”
“I know. And nobody else on the staff lets me forget it. Half of them still call me kid.”
“Well, quit looking at me like I’m a kid,” Tyson said with a laugh. “I’m only a couple years younger than you, after all.”
Avery shook his head. “Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. You have the skin of a goddamn Cullen.”
“I’m not sure I understand that,” Tyson said. It seemed like a compliment, so he’d go with it.
“Let’s just say it’s an occupational hazard and leave it there. What are you doing the rest of today?”
“Well”—Tyson couldn’t help teasing—“I thought I’d go to all of your classes.”
“Please don’t.” Avery laughed as well. “I’d like to be able to get through my lectures without stuttering all over myself.”
“You did great when I was in there just now. Amazing, actually.”
“I didn’t. But anyway, I only have to teach Mesoamericans this afternoon. I was going to spend some time researching my next book. Why do I get the impression you’d be able to help me with my research more than moldy microfiche the library never bothered putting on the internet?”
“I probably would. What are you working on?”
“The Acadian lycans. There are so many myths about the wolves coming down from the great white north when the rest of the Acadians came to the city. The written legends are so thin, but there is a great oral history.”
Tyson flinched. Nobody could say Avery was patchy with his research. He had no idea just how right he was. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I don’t know much about that. But I can ask around my academic friends. See if I know anyone who does.”
“That would be incredible.”
“So research and Mesoamericans?”
“Sounds exciting, doesn’t it?” Avery shrugged. “That’s my life when I’m not at clubs getting drinks from dashing boys who look ten years younger than me.”
“All right, knock it off with that. I’m not a kid. You’re not a kid. We’re not kids together. Can I see you tonight?”
“I’d actually… really like that. I’d say come over and watch Netflix with me, but I’m guessing that’s not something you do very regularly. You don’t strike me as a TV guy.”
Tyson grinned. “You got that right. I get antsy when I have to concentrate on something like that for too long. It’s too much sitting, I think. Or maybe I just like to hear myself talk and not someone on a screen.” More like he’d never quite gotten used to it. He loved movies in theaters, but television just hadn’t been his thing. But he’d be happy to sit with Avery and watch TV forever if he got to put his arm around him and breathe in his scent. “I don’t mind, though, if you’re tired from work and that’s what you want to do.”
“Do you want to go to dinner?” Avery asked.
Nope. No dinner. The more times he was around Avery in a food-type situation, the closer Avery would get to figuring out that Tyson didn’t actually eat. Ever. Then the explanations would have to start. He came up with an alternative as quickly as possible.
“We could go on a walk down by the river. We can get something for you on the way if you’re hungry by then.”
“I actually haven’t done the river walk in years,” Avery said. “Let’s do that.”
It looked like it was going to be a nice night, not too hot, not rainy. And well, other than the part about not wanting Avery to see him not eating, Tyson tended to be an old-fashioned guy. He’d never gotten to date someone, not really, anyway. He liked the idea of doing all the traditional things. A walk would be nice.
“Do you want me to stop by here?” Tyson asked.
“I don’t live very far from the river. I can meet you at my place. Or in Jackson Square if you want.”
“The square would be perfect. I’ll meet you right by the statue of Jackson.”
AVERY was buzzing later that night when he got to the statue. He’d dutifully done his research and managed to get through class successfully, get home, and drop his stuff off before heading to the square on foot. He was pretty surprised he’d made it without searching Tyson down just so he could kiss him some more.
He was going to get some kisses later. He’d make sure of it. He’d nearly choked earlier in the middle of class when he remembered getting pushed up against the books. One of the students had asked if he was okay, and he’d manufactured a sore throat. Avery knew he had to get it together soon if he wasn’t going to become a huge disaster. He wasn’t the only person on earth to get swept away by a beautiful man. Certainly other people managed to get through their days successfully. He’d just have to do the same.
But then he saw Tyson waiting by the Jackson statue, and the fireworks erupted again, tingly and fizzy all over his body. He had to hold himself back from running through the crowd. Keep it cool.
“Hey,” he said when he finally reached Tyson. Avery was pretty impressed by his own nonchalance
. He tried to keep his smile casual. It was hard when Tyson leaned over and gave him a long kiss. Even harder when he wanted to wrap his arms around Tyson’s neck and keep that kiss going as long as possible. Their goodbye kiss earlier seemed like eons ago.
“Walking?”
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
They strolled along the river and talked like they always did. Tyson told some of his ghost stories that had Avery a little freaked-out and walking closer to Tyson. Then he told Tyson a little bit about his less-than-stellar childhood, how his parents had died when he was a kid and how he was brought up by his grandma until she died when he was nineteen. He didn’t want to seem like a sad ass all alone in the world, but well, he kind of was. Tyson seemed to empathize.
“I really only have my housekeeper and a few friends around town.” He shrugged like it wasn’t all that big of a deal to him. Avery had tried not to let his status as lone wolf define his life, but in a way it had. He’d had to work really hard to build himself a little family of neighbors and friends. He wondered if—
Wait… housekeeper?
“You have a housekeeper?” Avery sputtered out a laugh.
“Yes. She’s been with me for a long time. I kind of—” Tyson blushed and brought up a hand to scrub in his hair.
“What?” Avery asked.
“No judgment, okay? Some guys would probably get all excited, but you seem like the type who will roll his eyes.”
“Okay. No judgment.” Avery grinned and squeezed his hand.
“I live in one of the old Garden District mansions. It’s mine. I kind of grew up there. I’m… well, let’s just say I’m an heir and let it go at that.” He mumbled the last part. Avery understood where Tyson was coming from. He didn’t care, though. Tyson didn’t seem like a pompous ass, and Avery wasn’t after his cash, so unless Tyson was involved in shady things, it didn’t matter.
“Is it something illegal?”
Tyson chuckled. “Oh no, it’s legal. My money and all that, nothing illegal about it, but I hate the word heir. It makes me sound like a dick. The money’s just been in my family for a while.”