Collide (Off-Limits Book 2)

by Piper Lawson

  “Tell me what they all are?” Andy asks.

  I point them all out, and describe each of them. The catfish, the blue acara, the silver dollar fish.

  “The black ghost knife fish is the coolest.” I crouch around the side of the tank, pointing behind some seaweed, and Andy follows. “He comes from South America, and he’s actually electric. Not enough to light you up, but it helps him find food.”

  “Can’t he see it?”

  “In here he can. But in the wild, not so much. He’s nocturnal which is why he’s hanging out back here.”

  “He’s huge,” Madison says, coming up behind us.

  “About a foot, but they can grow to a foot and a half,” I confirm. “And he has almost no true fins. Just pectoral ones.”

  “Are there more of them?”

  “Not in here. They’re a bit hard to handle and can get aggressive if they don’t have their own space.”

  Come to think of it, it’s no wonder Sawyer likes this fish. They have at least one thing in common.

  The front door rings and I head for it.

  When I pull the door wide, my smile freezes.

  The man standing on the new porch is the last one I expect.

  “Dean.” He’s here with his wife. “I didn’t realize... Everyone’s around the back.”

  He walks through the house and I shadow him, getting bad vibes the whole way. I hold the door for him and his wife to descend into the yard.

  Sawyer glances up, his expression darkening as he takes in his new guests.

  The dean clears his throat. “About the justification next week.” My stomach tightens. “I wish you all the best.”

  “Thank you,” I say, and mean it.

  After the pressure of the last few weeks, it feels good to have the support of the department.

  In the kitchen, I start cleaning things up. It’s only a moment before I feel his presence at my back.

  “You can’t hide from me.”

  The hairs on my neck lift at his low voice. “Figured I’d help out in here since you were busy being a good host.”

  “So grabbing the kid and making a run for it wasn’t an effort to escape?”

  “I didn’t want you going down for murder. I’m getting used to your bossy ass.”

  When I turn to face him, he’s leaning against the wall, arms folded.

  “Thought you knew what exclusive meant.”

  “He kissed me. He caught me by surprise, and if you believe it was anything more on my side than that, then you’re a moron.”

  His eyes widen, as if he’s surprised at the reprimand.

  I want to go to him but I remember what he saw outside earlier, the look on his face.

  “You did a great thing today.”

  “It’s a BBQ, not Nobel Prize-winning research.”

  “The little moments matter. Without them, the big moments can’t happen.”

  He crosses the kitchen, pinning me against the sink with his hips. “I kept telling myself I had no business being with you—that you were too young and on a different path. I thought I could teach you how to live without rules, but you taught me more.”

  He bends closer, near enough our mouths brush.

  “I can’t do this anymore, Olivia,” he murmurs against my lips.

  The words barely register.

  He’s so close and after hours of staring at him across the yard, watching him try to do right by the department and the team, it’s all I can do not to wrap my legs around him and show him how damned proud I am.

  “Do what?”

  “No feelings. I told myself I’d try for you, because that’s the one concession you asked of me. But I’m over trying to get through the day without thinking of you. Your smile. Your mind. Your fucking kindness. I’ve had a lot of dark times in my life, but if they brought me to you, I’m willing to square with them.”

  I pull back to stare in his dark, stormy eyes.

  What I find makes my chest expand until I can’t breathe.

  Hope.

  Trust.

  Possibility.

  “In the good moments and the bad ones,” he goes on, “you’re the first person I think of. You’re in my bed and in my heart. And I’m not letting you out of either.”

  “No fucking way.”

  We both turn to see Adam standing in the doorway, phone in his hand.

  23

  Olivia

  “Adam—”

  He knows. It’s plain in the horror on his face, the grim line of his mouth.

  He turns and stalks back down the hall.

  I run after him. “It’s not what you think.” He grunts in pain as I grab his bad arm, forcing him around.

  His face is incredulous as he holds the phone up. “This isn’t what I think?”

  There’s a picture of me and Sawyer, lips locked, my hands in his hair and his gripping my ass.

  “What the hell, Liv? This is why you’ve been distant? I know you were under pressure from your parents, but you don’t need him to get a good grade—”

  “This is none of your business, Adam.” Sawyer’s voice from behind me is the last thing I need. “You can’t expect a woman to wait around for you.”

  Sawyer, don’t.

  “She’s been my girlfriend since we were sixteen,” Adam retorts, jaw jutting. “If you tried touching her then, you’d be in jail right now, asshole.”

  “If you try touching her now, you will be.”

  They’re the same height. Sawyer always seemed bigger, because everything he is, he backs up.

  “If you knew how to treat her, she wouldn’t be with me. But you couldn’t see what was right in front of you.”

  “Wow. This went back to the start of the school year?” Adam lurches toward me.

  “It doesn’t have to do with class, or the project.”

  “Really, Liv?” He gets close to me now, staring in my eyes. “So what, you get off on being his toy?”

  “I’m not his toy.”

  I’m in love with him.

  “Tell me this asshole pressured you.”

  He’s like my parents, thinking I need protection.

  I could make that look of horror and disgust on his face disappear. Say that it was all a mistake, save my own ass, and maybe convince him not to turn Sawyer in, too.

  “What’d he do to you, babe?”

  But it’s not the truth. And right now, staring down years of expectations in Adam’s bright blue eyes, I’m not willing to bend.

  I lift my chin. “He makes me come so hard I think I’m going to die.”

  Adam’s eyes flash and he whirls on his heel for the back door, phone in hand.

  SAWYER

  When I descend the stairs, everyone knows something’s wrong. It’s plain on the stunned faces.

  In the crowd, a few jump out at me. Madison looks morbidly fascinated. Royce is confused. Betty stands in one corner, her painted lips a round “o” of dismay. Daniel’s shoulders slump, as if he was hoping we might get through this despite knowing deep down we couldn’t.

  Adam’s standing next to the dean, eyes narrowed at me in accusation and betrayal. As if the fact that I dared touch Olivia is violating some greater evil than making his ex-girlfriend happier than she ever was with him.

  But it’s the dean who speaks first.

  “Professor Redmond.” He says the words as if he’s shocked and appalled, but the way he steps forward says he’s been waiting for this day. “A student has come to me with some intensely disturbing allegations. Allegations I’m inclined to believe because he’s furnished evidence. We’ll meet tomorrow afternoon to investigate once I’ve convened the disciplinary committee.” Disciplinary sounds like firing squad. “In the meantime, we’ll have your TA cover your classes, and the team’s participation in the Stars competition will have to be put on hold.”

  No.

  My students’ expressions go from confused to horrified.

  “What’s going on?” Royce demands.


  “Party’s over.” Daniel gestures toward the gate, willing people to leave.

  My gaze locks with Olivia’s.

  “Miss Barclay,” the dean goes on, “I strongly suggest you keep to yourself for the next little while. If you need counseling resources, student services can provide them. Please monitor your email, as the disciplinary committee will no doubt want to hear from you.”

  I can’t talk to her now. Her eyes say she wants to, but that’s going to make things worse.

  Right after I told her I want more. She didn’t have time to react.

  Now, she goes with everyone else.

  The strangest part was today had started to feel good. Like before the dean showed up, I didn’t hate having everyone here.

  The last time I was at this school, in this house, I felt like a missing piece from a different puzzle.

  This afternoon, I was part of something. I never asked for this, and now that it’s gone, my gut feels strangely empty.

  24

  Sawyer

  The next day, everything moves in slow motion.

  I get up, make coffee, shower, and pull on fresh clothes. As if it’s any other day, except it’s not.

  I go in and meet with the half dozen men and two women on the disciplinary committee. The dean is, of course, chairing. At least there’s one friendly face—Betty’s at the end of the table, recording while also taking notes on her notebook computer. When her gaze meets mine, there’s sympathy, not reproach.

  As the hearing begins, phrases like gross misconduct, formal inquiry, probationary period drift through my brain.

  The bottom line is they’re investigating and I’ll face professional sanctions. Possibly be fired.

  “This is a despicable violation of school policy. Do you deny having a relationship with your student?”

  “I don’t. But I wouldn’t expect you to understand it, either.”

  The dean nearly drops his pen.

  “When Miss Barclay and I met, it was outside of campus and school events. Our relationship began prior to her becoming my student.”

  That does catch him off guard. “In what capacity did you know her?”

  “In the capacity that we met and had a connection,” I toss back, even though he can’t possibly understand. “Have you ever met another person and felt like they could see under your skin? And maybe it was because they were different, like they were meant to see you. Or hell, they simply took the time and checked their preconceptions at the door.”

  “So you had a physical connection. A sexual relationship would be gravely disturbing.”

  “More than an emotional one?”

  “We’re not here to debate—”

  “You’re the ones who spend all day theorizing.” I pause. “I’m not here to explain our relationship to you. I’m telling you it didn’t get in the way of me doing my job.”

  “Professor Redmond,” a woman, the vice provost, begins, “our aim is not interfering with the personal lives of students and faculty. However, it is our responsibility to ensure there are no conflicts of interest, undue pressure, or unfair favoritism.”

  “And there was none.”

  “You agreed to supervise the Stars team and, I understand, appointed Miss Barclay the lead.”

  “If you’d seen what she did, you would’ve made her team lead, too.” At their silence, I force myself to go on. “You want to know what kind of favoritism I gave her? The kind where I pushed her. Asked her to do more than she knew she could. Built up her confidence. I reminded her that when she gets out of bed and puts her feet on the floor in the morning, she has everything within herself to achieve her dreams. If that’s not what faculty are expected to do, then forgive me, but I have no fucking clue what your job is.”

  They make some notes on their papers.

  “My Stars team,” I grind out. “I need assurances their work will resume.”

  “In light of these allegations and to protect the university, I can see no other recourse than to shut down our participation in the committee immediately,” the dean says.

  “What about that alumni donation we received?” Betty looks up from her computer, and I frown.

  “What donation?”

  Every set of eyes flies to the dean, who shifts in his seat. “Olivia Barclay’s father made a contribution to the school.”

  “He requested the funds be directed to offset costs associated with the Stars project,” Betty presses.

  “And you responded by trying to compromise their efforts?” I say, my voice deadly low.

  The only explanation is that he intended to use those funds for other purposes than the ones for which they were intended. It would make sense—if the team didn’t make it past the next stage, he could tell the donor the funds were already used.

  Except…Olivia’s father is in financial difficulty. How could he support the team when he won’t even help with tuition?

  One of the women leans in. “Didn’t the team qualify for nationals for the first time in a decade?”

  I nod. “They’re presenting a justification next week.”

  The vice provost purses her lips. “Dean, perhaps it makes sense to see how this next step of the process goes before making any decision about the team’s future.”

  He realizes he’s in a bind. He wants to shut the team down, either to screw me over or save money, and I wish I knew why.

  For today, he can’t.

  That doesn’t mean he won’t try again tomorrow.

  When he walks me to the door, it’s my turn to pause. “How much did her father give?”

  He hesitates. “Fifty thousand.”

  Fifty thousand. That number scratches at the back of my mind.

  I’m two steps out the door when I reach for my phone.

  25

  Olivia

  I get Sawyer’s text in the middle of my final class of the day.

  Repentant Asshole: The team can continue its work. I’m on probation pending the committee’s investigation.

  Liv: I need to see you.

  Repentant Asshole: I’m going to New York to see Tate. We’ll talk when I’m back.

  My gut twists. I hadn’t even thought about the implications for Sawyer’s future business.

  We haven’t had a moment to talk since the party. I want to tell him I’m thinking of him every second. I hope he knows my mind’s on him whether I’m at school, grabbing a dinner I can barely eat, or teaching.

  When I wrap up my final class, I head to the library to meet with the team. Our justification is due in another week, and none of the drama on our campus is going to change that.

  “This is where Madison talks about how we designed the tail functionality, mimicking nature. Then there’s the section on the novel applications of circuitry…where is that section?”

  I look up across the scattered photographs and printed pages at Royce, who’s seated across the table in the campus library.

  He shrugs, irritated. “I dunno where the section went. Adam was going to write it.”

  I turn to Adam, who’s fiddling with the strap on his backpack. “I didn’t see it, did you send it to me?”

  He doesn’t answer. Evidently he’s still not speaking to me.

  “Maybe you didn’t see it because Professor Redmond didn’t send it. It was crowded out of your inbox by all the dick pics.”

  I told Sawyer I would keep the team on track. I’m not the one on trial, which means my job should be easy.

  In the past forty-eight hours, I scoped out the tank we’d use to demo our robot after the holidays.

  Yet somehow, the team is falling apart.

  We won’t, I vow. If it’s the only thing I can do, I’ll hold this group together. We’ve worked too hard for this.

  “This goal is bigger than all of us. Let’s come together and make the justification happen.” I think of Sawyer talking about how to pitch. “This is our chance to show the judges we’re contenders.”

  “Don’t blame Professo
r Redmond,” I say.

  “I don’t. I blame you.” Everyone in the study desks looks up at Adam’s loud voice.

  I’ve been leading this project and was thrilled by the chance to challenge myself and try new things. But at this moment, I’m flushed and overwhelmed.

  Royce weighs in. “I get that she was your girlfriend but if it’s about more than getting dick punched in the ego, then act like it.”

  “Thanks for having my back,” I say, following Royce to the water fountain to refill my water bottle.

  “What was your plan here?” he asks, turning.

  “What do you mean?”

  “There are only two ways out, no matter how charmed your life is or what family you come from. Either you’re the victim, the chick with wide eyes who got taken advantage of, or you’re the girl who slept with her professor to get ahead.”

  “I’m not either of those.”

  He shrugs. “You think you’re the first student to hook up with their professor? This is an age-old story. And there’s no other way this story ends.”

  “Okay, everybody. That’s all for tonight.” The smile is harder to summon than usual as I shepherd my guppies toward the door.

  “…picking up?” A familiar male voice enters my consciousness.

  “Yeah, I’m picking up. Are you?” An even more familiar female voice has me looking up.

  Kat’s dressed in a loose blazer and skirt, arms folded as she leans against the wall.

  Next to her is Daniel.

  “Ah, this one must be yours,” Kat says as Andy trots over to his dad, showing off some badass chassés.

  “He’s the only boy,” says one of the girls solemnly.

  Kat eyes up Andy. “So basically, you’re going to be a star.”

  He giggles, but Daniel’s attention, his curiosity and appreciation, is locked on my friend.

  “Which one’s yours?”

  “That one.” She points at me and I cross to them, laughing.