Change of Course: A MM Professor/Student Novel (Change of Hearts Book 3)

by Sierra Hill

  45

  Kyler

  I’m so nervous that my hands are sweating so much I’ve had to wipe them off several times on a towel as I wait in preparation of meeting Lucas’s grandmother. Although he said she was totally cool and was looking forward to meeting me, this is the first time I’ve met his family.

  When he left to pick Jocelyn up at the airport, I stayed behind to prepare our dinner for the evening. I’ve made beef tenderloin with a mushroom and red wine reduction, balsamic asparagus, and a jasmine citrus rice. I’ve chilled the wine and also made a chocolate soufflé with raspberry sauce.

  Did I mention that I love to cook when I’m anxious? It’s the only distraction, aside from sex, that keeps my mind off the anxiety.

  Although it hasn’t helped much tonight, leading me to text Peyton a minimum of fifty times, each time getting more and more panicked that this introduction won’t go well. And while she tried unsuccessfully to reassure me with her sweet compliments, none of it could calm me or make me feel better.

  The key in the door alerts me to their presence and I wipe off my hands one more time down the front of my slacks and I take a long inhale, blowing it out and plastering a wide smile across my face.

  I eagerly stand in the hallway in front of the door as it opens and Lucas walks in. Alone.

  I lean to the side and look behind him but don’t see anyone. When I glance at Luc with a confused expression on my face, I notice the deep scowl sketched over his mouth.

  “Where’s your grandmother?” I ask, worry etched in my tone. “Did she not make the flight?”

  He moves toward me and with a precise slap, smacks a packet against my chest, which I grab to keep it from falling when he drops his hand.

  “Jocelyn is waiting in my car, giving us enough time to discuss that.” He nods briskly at the folder.

  My gaze moves from his face to the folder, which I open and slowly extract the contents between my fingers.

  There’s some type of cover sheet indicating a Jones & Clarkeson P.I. and then the title of the form that has my name typed out in bold font.

  Kyler James Scott.

  My gaze flickers to Lucas hurt flashing and transparent passing between us in both our eyes.

  “What is this, Lucas?”

  His finger flicks toward me. “You tell me.”

  I flip through the pages, skimming through my financial history, a police record from when I was seventeen for my underage drinking, and then picture upon picture, like a shutter flash movie reel of me dancing on stage at the club.

  “Why? Why did I have to learn about this from my grandmother? You know what this looks like, don’t you?”

  My throat is dry, my words staccato and shaky as they leave my mouth.“No, I don’t know.”

  Tears begin to prickle behind my eyelids and the folder shakes in my hands.

  Suddenly, the packet is wrenched out of my grasp, and Lucas waves it in the air.

  “This looks like I’ve been set up by someone who has hidden his true identity and is using me for my money.”

  Lucas throws the folder on the kitchen table with a loud and ominous thwap.

  “Did you prostitute yourself, too?”

  “What?” My face flushes hot and the rake of angry bile climbs up my throat.

  “If there’s one thing I do know about you, Kyler, and that is that you know the meaning of the word hustle. So I figure, with a mountain of debt and no sugar daddy available, you probably found a way to make extra money on the side. Maybe you were waiting for me to pay you that first night in exchange for that fuck?”

  My hand flies unbidden across the distance between us and slaps him across the face hard. He stares at me in shock but remains silent.

  “I am so ashamed of you right now, Lucas. How dare you unfairly accuse me of such a thing. And while I’m not proud of hiding what I did from you, it’s still an honorable profession. And I’ve never used you for anything. Ever! If anything, you used me.”

  I spin on my heels and rush down the hallway to our bedroom that we’ve shared for nearly a month as a married couple and begin packing my bag, grabbing anything quick to take with me tonight. This was all a mistake. Marrying Lucas was a big, ugly mistake.

  Lucas remains in the living room, appearing dazed and confused when I return, bags flung over my shoulders.

  “Where are you going?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not finished discussing why you’ve been lying to me all this time. You can’t just run away like this.”

  I huff, wrenching the door open so it swings out hard and fast. “I’m going someplace where I’m loved and trusted. Where I’m not accused of being dishonorable and doing illegal things for money.”

  I glance back one more time looking at the warmly lit room filled with all the Christmas decorations we finished putting up last weekend.

  “And for the record, I stood by you when I saw you and Jessica together. I didn’t jump to conclusions and I certainly didn’t believe any of the things that you were accused of doing. You know why, Lucas? Because I love you. And when you love someone, you put your faith in them as a person. You trust in them to be honest with their feelings. I’ve been honest 100 percent of the time about that. Have you?”

  A look of dejection washes over his face and I have to look away for fear all my insecurities and fears will come streaming out through my tears.

  “Merry Christmas, Lucas. I hope you enjoy our first holiday together…apart.”

  And with that, I slam the door and leave my heart, my love, and my future behind.

  46

  Lucas

  Two days later and two days before Christmas and I’m still in a state of disbelief and stupor.

  What the hell have I done?

  The minute Kyler walked out of my condo I felt a cloak of shame fall over me, heavy in its intolerable grief.

  Jocelyn has tried valiantly to keep my mind off of things, asking me to take her out to the various Christmas markets and galleries, where she buys a ton of expensive gifts and shit she doesn’t need.

  “Have you heard anything from him?”

  My gaze drifts from the handcrafted ornament I’ve been staring at for the past five minutes. It’s a snow globe with a lone evergreen tree standing in the middle of a field. I am this tree.

  “No, and I don’t blame him.”

  She places an encouraging hand on the top of my shoulder and part of me wants to shrug it off because I wouldn’t be in this situation if she hadn’t meddled. But I can’t because I know she did it out of her desire to protect me. Protect her family.

  Or did she?

  I turn to face her, taking in her beautiful and elegant features. A true wealthy matriarch. Like the Queen of England without the British empire or royal blood.

  “Married or not, I don’t want your money, Jocelyn. Keep it. I’m out. I’ll sign whatever papers you want me to in order to waive my rights to your estate. It doesn’t matter to me. I’ve realized these past few months that having that money hanging over my head was suffocating. No matter what I did to make you proud of me, it was never going to be enough. And then I found Kyler who made me feel like I was more than enough. I was worthy of his love because of who I am inside. Not from the trappings of wealth.”

  She has the audacity to look offended. “How can you say that, Lucas? You’re the apple of my eye and I’ve always been proud of you. While I may not have been pleased with the direction you went for your education or career, I know you do admirable work and are generous of your time and talents you possess.”

  She lays a hand on my forearm. “What can I do to make things right between you and Kyler? I’m sorry I interfered but it was only out of your best interests that I inquired about him.”

  Reining in my temper, I shake off her hand and respond tightlipped. “I think you’ve done quite enough already. Thank you.”

  Somewhere between three and four a.m., as I tossed and turned wondering how my life of routine had c
areened so far off course, I think back over the summer to when I met Kyler.

  The very first thing that captured my attention was his beautifully mischievous smile, followed closely by his arrogant sarcasm. And then over the months of working closely with him, I found him to be an intelligent, witty, and charismatic man that has brought me out of my reserved shell.

  And I fucking miss him.

  I roll over, sliding my palm over the empty side of the bed that he’s occupied the past two months. I learned quickly that he was a cuddler and loved to spoon – mostly for the free backrubs he’d receive from me, which would sometimes turn into hour-long lovemaking sessions. Or sometimes they’d be quick fucks to get us off and put us to sleep.

  Restless now, I decide just to get up and take a walk. I head out the door and down the walkway toward the path along the small park reservoir near my building. The cooler morning air feels good against my skin and the bright pink and orange hues of the sunrise fill me with peace and contentment.

  The colors swirling in the sky are reminiscent of Kyler’s award-winning entry. The prose and poetry of his original painting depicting a man in a sea of people, naked and aspiring to be seen.

  The painting evoked a myriad of emotions in me. Maybe because it was a self-portrait of how Kyler feels to those around him. Naked yet screaming to be seen. I thought I saw him, but maybe I wasn’t looking deep enough.

  Sometimes in life we only scratch the surface with people we meet, only getting a glimpse and glimmer of who they really are. And what I did the other night when I only saw Kyler for his debt and his job as a dancer was let it cloud my judgment about him. That’s only a portion of who he is. He is so much more.

  And honestly, the way Kyler dances is so beautiful, graceful, and erotic, it’s an extension of his art and his soul. And I love all of that about him.

  How can I ever fault him for sharing his talents with the world or with me?

  Deciding what I must do, I return home to shower and change and to discuss things over with my grandmother, putting a plan in place to win back my husband.

  47

  Kyler

  “Hurry up, babes. Brooklyn and Garrett are waiting for us downstairs in the car. Chop chop!”

  “As if I’ve never had to wait for either of you two girls,” I grouse, striding out the bathroom door and stick out my tongue at Peyton, who stands waiting for me in the living room with her hands at her hips, dressed gorgeously in a sleek black dress and flats.

  She smirks and waggles her eyebrows. “Well don’t you look extra dashing tonight, Mr. Scott.”

  I shrug her away as she tries to fuss over my outfit. It’s not wildly different from what I usually wear – tight fitting black jeans that taper at the ankle, a white shirt, and my black leather jacket. I couldn’t bring myself to wear the suit Lucas bought me in Vegas even though Peyton told me to dress up tonight.

  “You look beautiful too, Pey-Pey Le Pew. Now, will you tell me where we’re going tonight?”

  Grabbing her purse from the table, she unlocks the door and peers at me over her shoulder. “For the tenth time, Kyler. It’s a Christmas secret.”

  We tromp down the stairs and open the doors to Garrett’s Escalade.

  “Hey guys!” Brooklyn calls from the front seat. “Merry Christmas. Are you excited about tonight?”

  I scrunch my lips up defiantly. “Am I the only one who doesn’t know where we’re going? Because that’s not very fair. You can’t leave a guy out like that. It hurts me right here.”

  I rub a hand over my supposedly broken heart, which is still in pieces, but I’m trying not to let on how much I miss Lucas, like a body misses a limb.

  I’m trying not to dwell on the fact that he’s been noticeably absent since I left his condo the other night, with the exception of a few texts asking if I could forgive him and if I would consider coming back home for Christmas.

  My reply was maybe and I don’t know.

  Because honestly, I’m still so hurt over the things he said and what he accused me of doing. They were like a knife, cutting me deep and twisting it to rip me to pieces. And I realize that had I been upfront with him originally, none of this would’ve mattered one bit. So I’m partially to blame. But that doesn’t lessen the pain.

  Peyton pipes in from the seat next to me. “Yes, we all know because it’s a Christmas gift for you, Kyler. And it wouldn’t be a surprise if we told you.”

  I roll my eyes and give her a pouty lip. “If you loved me, you’d tell me.”

  She leans over and nudges my shoulder with her head like Pussy Cat does when she wants something.

  “You know I love you, Kyler. You’re my boo and I think you’ll really like your gift. Now shut up and be happy.”

  Over the last two days, Brooklyn and Peyton have been my rocks. They’ve listened to me cry, and fret, yell with anger, and whine in pity. They’ve been on my side the entire way, suggesting that they thought what Lucas did was awful, too, and his choice of words were hurtful and mean. But that he probably was caught up in the shock of learning about my job and didn’t know how to communicate his disappointment.

  Brooklyn, however, was the first to inform me about the good news related to Lucas’s investigation. Apparently, John Haverstein, Lucas’s teaching assistant, came forward and mentioned that he, too, had been a victim of Jessica’s constant advances and sexual harassment and that he’d witnessed a brief interaction similar to the one I had when he walked into Lucas’s office and saw firsthand his dismissal of her behavior.

  “So he didn’t lose his job?”

  She shook her head. “Nope, he never did. They’d put him on administrative leave pending the outcome of the investigation. He can return to work in January. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  Of course, it was. I knew all along that the university and the Dean were wrong in their immediate and erroneous judgment of Lucas. Just as Lucas was of me.

  But it still doesn’t make things right between us. I’d say the only thing it does do is prove just how important it is not to make a rash judgment in the heat of the moment.

  “Okay, looks like we’re here,” Garrett announces from the driver’s seat as he shuts off the engine. I peer through the space between the front seats out the dashboard window.

  We’re in a little neighborhood in Tempe that’s home to small boutiques and art festivals. We all file out of the car and I follow Garrett and Brooklyn, who are hand-in-hand, as they go to a nondescript blue door. There’s no sign to identify where we’re at and the window is boarded up, looking abandoned and unoccupied.

  I whisper in Peyton’s ear. “What is this place?”

  To which she replies with a half shrug and a smirk.

  Garrett opens the door a crack, sticking his head through the slot, and says, “You all ready for us?”

  He returns with a smile, opening the door wide, encouraging us to walk through under the space under his arm.

  As we enter into the building, all I see are black painted walls with fairy lights strung from the ceiling, washing over the room with a magical ethereal quality.

  And then my breath leaves my chest in a whoosh.

  My feet stall as I notice on the far end of the room one wall, a spotlight shining over the top, illuminating my painting. I’m confused because I’d sold that piece when we were in Vegas.

  “What the…”

  Before I can say anything more, Lucas appears from around a corner, followed by who I know to be his grandmother. They’re both smiling, one a bit more wearily than the other, as they move toward our group.

  “Merry Christmas, my friends. Thank you for getting my husband here and keeping this a secret.”

  I give everyone a traitor stare but then return my gaze to Lucas. He holds his arm out to his grandmother, putting a hand at the small of her back and guiding her toward me.

  “Grandmother, may I introduce you to Kyler Scott. My husband,” he introduces, casting his gaze downward in an apologetic gesture. Then
he returns it to me. “Kyler, this is my grandmother, Jocelyn MacArthur Mathiasson. Your new grandmother-in-law and your very first patron.”

  I know my face registers shock because Jocelyn chuckles femininely and holds her hand out to take mine, shaking it awkwardly, my mouth too parched to say anything polite.

  “Kyler, it is a pleasure to meet the man my grandson has fallen in love with and married. Welcome to the family. I’m so very sorry that our first almost encounter was marred by my interference. I only ask for your forgiveness of my imprudent behavior and that you can have grace on an old woman who was simply trying to protect her only grandson.”

  A flood of irrational emotion storms my head and heart like a dam breaking – from anger to grief, to heartbreak and love.

  “Kyler?”

  Lucas’s voice interrupts my internal freakout and I notice he’s held his hand out for me to take. Reluctantly, I press my hand into his warm palm, feeling that old familiarity of the tingle that ignites between us every time we touch.

  “It fills me with the deepest regret that I said and did what I did the other night. I know I caused a tear between us, and if you’ll forgive me and let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” I begin, turning around to find that it’s now just the two of us. It seems our audience has disappeared into a different room.

  “Just say yes…say yes to forgiving me for acting like an impossible asshole. Say yes to getting back together. Yes to making up and knowing that it was simply the first argument of our married life. And yes to being willing to remain married to me.”

  He takes a deep breath and blows it out.

  “And say yes to owning this art gallery with me.”

  Lucas sweeps circles his arms out in all directions, twirling around in a “this can all be yours if you just say yes” motion.

  “What are you saying, Lucas?”