Beautifully Complicated (Front Range University #4)

9. Kier

Chapter nine

Kier

SEPTEMBER

M y finger hovers over the edit button, ready to change the name from Leanbh to Aiden, just like it’s done every day since he came back into my life.

God he’s got balls. Massive ones, if this little stunt is any indication, and part of me wants to strangle him for thinking he’s in a position to act like the bold little lover I took to bed all those months ago. The other part of me wants to applaud him for it, then ravish him.

I’ve been fighting that battle every day for the better part of a month.

I don’t know why I can’t bring myself to edit his information except that regardless of where we stand now, I still think of him as Leanbh. Maybe even more now than I did before.

Working with him has only made him more fascinating to me.

For one thing, he’s brilliant. I can trust him to grade assignments without any oversight from me because he’s got such a solid grasp on the material. For another, he’s reliable. Always on time, always organized, always anticipating what I need and having it ready for me. And having him by my side when we’re reviewing data means I’ve got a front row seat to witness the excitement he has for the work.

That’s the confident side of him I’ve admired from the start. And as for the vulnerable side, it’s still there, in the longing glances he gives me when he thinks I’m not looking. The anxious way he waits for my approval.

I get as far as hitting the edit button before I cancel out of the screen without making any changes.

Not for the first time, my mind recalls the conversation we had the first time he stepped into my office, where he confessed to foregoing the opportunity to pick my brain for the chance to get to know me on a personal level because he was lonely.

The conversation may have started under false pretenses, but the irony is he’s most likely right about what I would’ve done had I known he followed my work. I probably would’ve declined the invitation to talk. I definitely would’ve declined the request to take him home.

But then I’d never have known him.

That’s the real mindfuck right there. Aiden is my TA. My research assistant. I’m pretty sure if anyone knew what happened between us all hell would break loose, and I’m pissed at him for putting me in this position.

Yet I don’t regret that night.

I relive it every time my head hits the pillow, tossing and turning for hours on end until my brain can’t process any more and I fall into a restless sleep.

A familiar knock has me tossing the phone to my desk, bracing for the intrusion that seems to come every day. “Come in.”

“Hey,” Daniel says cheerfully. “Some of us are going to grab a drink after work, you in?”

I still haven’t figured out if Daniel is this friendly to everyone or just me. I am the new guy, so he might be innocently trying to make me feel welcome when he pops in to ask how my classes are going or whether I need help with anything. He just seems to do it more than the other professors here, which gives me pause.

This isn’t the first time he’s extended an invitation to socialize, or to grab lunch or catch a movie, or any number of things that might help me get to know him a little better. This is the first time Daniel has mentioned others though, and I could use a night off from pining over a man I can’t have.

“Yeah, text me the details. I’ll meet you there.”

Based on the way his jaw drops, he wasn’t expecting me to accept. But he quickly recovers, pulls out his phone, and a second later I’ve got the name of a bar about five miles off campus.

I spend the next few hours creating a lesson plan and emailing Aiden instructions for what I need him to do for class, then shut down my computer, lock my office, and head for the bar.

It’s more of a lounge than a bar, with low couches and coffee tables set up in several intimate circles. I find my colleagues in a back corner—thankfully there’s an open spot that’s not right next to Daniel—and take a seat next to a woman who works in the department’s main office. I think she’s part counselor, part department director, or something like that. I’m embarrassed to admit I don’t really know, I just know she doesn’t teach any classes.

I’m stereotyping, but I’m hoping she’ll keep the conversation to something other than work since she’s not a professor.

“Hi, Grace. Nice to see you.”

“Kier.” She smiles. “It’s nice to see you off campus.”

Maybe those other invites from Daniel included everyone and I just didn’t realize it.

“Yeah, sorry. I needed to get settled at home before I could justify coming out for drinks.”

“I get it. There’s nothing worse than coming home and feeling like you can’t relax because things are out of place.”

“Exactly.” I return her smile and order a beer from the waiter before speaking again. “So, are after-work drinks a regular thing?”

“Once a month or so.” She sips her Cosmopolitan. “Except during finals. Then it might be daily.”

“Don’t we have it easy during finals? All we have to do is grade tests.”

“Professors have to prepare study guides, hold study sessions to help the students prepare, monitor the test itself… And as for me, I get flooded with questions about how a bad grade might impact GPAs and job prospects, even before anything has been graded.”

“Huh, I didn’t realize it was such a busy time.”

“That’s why there might be daily drinks.” She holds her glass up as if to toast me, only I don’t have a drink yet, which she notes with a tiny laugh. “So, how are you settling in? Is Colorado a big change from the east coast?”

Since Grace helped recruit me, she knows I’d been working with a bionics company in Boston prior to coming here.

“Not as far as work goes, that’s pretty similar. But the lifestyle is different. People are more outdoorsy here than what I’m used to. Some of the things I hear the students talking about…hiking, biking, climbing. That’s all new.”

“Just wait until it snows. Then they’ll be talking about skiing, snowboarding, ice climbing. It never stops.”

Mention of snowboarding has my mind drifting to Aiden, and how he described it like floating. As if she can read my mind Grace brings up the man himself.

“How is Aiden working out as your assistant? Don’t you just love him?”

“I uh, yeah. He’s great.”

“When Jennifer said she was going to take a sabbatical I just knew I had to get you for her replacement. Aiden’s been a fan for years. I hoped having you here might cheer him up a bit.”

“Cheer him up?” I repeat as I take my beer from the waiter. “What for?”

I regret asking for details as soon as the question leaves my lips, but I can’t shake this protective instinct I have when it comes to Aiden, like I want to shield him from anything that might make him doubt himself.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. He just seemed to fold in on himself out of nowhere last spring. One day he was his normal, happy self. The next, he was like a shell of the Aiden I know. And whenever I asked if he was okay, he’d say yes, even though he clearly wasn’t, but since he wouldn’t talk to me, I wasn’t sure what I could do.”

“When was this?”

“April maybe?” Grace shrugs and takes another sip of her drink.

April. That’s nearly a month before we met, so the shift wasn’t because of me. Didn’t he say something about trouble with a roommate?

“What about over the summer?” I ask. “Did you see him?”

“Oh, yes. It was even worse. He seemed to lose weight, and I’m pretty sure he wasn’t sleeping well since he always looked tired. I overstepped a bit and asked if he was sick—he assured me he wasn’t—just stretched thin trying to fit everything in between classes and work.”

“What sort of work?” I take a drink as I realize my mouth is too dry.

“The same thing he’s doing now, only for Jennifer. Between you and me I do think she relied too heavily on him, but he never complained. Aiden’s such a hard worker.”

I feel my Adam’s apple drop as I swallow. “And now? Do you think he seems better now?”

Grace tilts her head to the side. “Yes and no. He still looks too tired, and he’s still a little more distant than he used to be, but there’s a hint of the old spark there. I assume that’s because he likes working with you. Learning from the person he considers the best in the field.”

Grace’s words are both heartening and discouraging.

Despite my better judgment, I care about Aiden. More than I should, obviously, but taking our night together out of the equation, he’s an intelligent young man that I want to succeed, and I’m in a position to help him with that.

I’m happy to learn his mood has picked up somewhat because he’s excited about the professional experiences he’s getting. But I’m disheartened to hear that he’s still notably depressed.

I see that myself, of course. The dark circles under his eyes are hard to miss, and the listless expression when he walks the halls borders on haunting. I didn’t realize other people saw it too, though. I figured I noticed because I’m so in tune to him, not because it’s clear as day.

Yet, like Grace said, I don’t know what I can do about it.

Pursuing anything personal with him is out of the question. Even though I’m not technically his professor, I’m a mentor of sorts since he’s helping me with my research, and his boss, in a manner of speaking. If he weren’t enrolled here maybe things would be different. Maybe . But that’s a moot point since the man still needs his degree.

I could ask for another assistant, but if I do, that will reflect poorly on Aiden. And he can’t give the position up without the same result since I’m the only professor here working in the field he wants to concentrate on.

Not to mention, there’s the little issue of his lie. Even knowing why he did it, I don’t know if I can forgive it. For months, I thought the connection we had was totally organic. Born of the mutual, intense onset of comfort and lust and trust. But that encounter wasn’t as organic as I believed considering I was already familiar to him, so a part of me will always wonder if he’d have offered to buy that drink if I really was a stranger.

Sipping my beer, I conclude my only option is to maintain the status quo. Our hands are tied professionally speaking, which means there’s no option for anything personal, even if that was something I wanted to pursue.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t realize Daniel has worked his way to my side until his voice brings me back to the bar. “What are you two talking about over here?”

“Aiden Sinclair,” Grace volunteers, too freely in my opinion. “I was asking how Kier liked him as an assistant.”

“Is it a good or bad sign you looked so deep in thought?” Daniel asks.

“Good. I was trying to think if there’s anything he can’t do, and I couldn’t come up with anything,” I fib, hoping Grace doesn’t recall the last thing she said about him was that he’s still not himself.

“Jennifer used to rave about him,” Daniel offers. “I was hoping to get him myself before you got here.”

“Isn’t your focus information security? That’s not his area of interest, correct?” I ask.

“No, but who wouldn’t want the smartest student in the department as their assistant. Besides, he’s nice to look at.”

I set my glass on the table so hard a quarter of the liquid sloshes out of it. How dare he talk about Aiden like that.

“Whoa, you okay?” Daniel asks.

“I thought the table was further away.” I reach for some napkins to mop the spill, hoping he bought that excuse, and that my face doesn’t betray what I really thought about that comment. “Is that something we’re allowed to say about the students?”

“I don’t see why not. It’s just an observation.” Daniel shrugs nonchalantly. “Besides, the students say it about you, too.”

“Me?” My palms are suddenly sweaty.

The last thing I need is to be mixed up in gossip about attractive students and teachers.

“Professor Dreamy.” Daniel confirms. “It’s a little unoriginal, but this is the computer science department, so…” He sips his martini instead of finishing the thought.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” I sputter, wondering if Aiden’s among the students who use that moniker. He wouldn’t be that careless, right?

“It’s harmless,” Daniel insists. “Right Grace?”

“It probably shouldn’t be encouraged—workplace ethics and all that—but I understand what you’re trying to say. Attractive people tend to draw attention, and in the case of students, nicknames.” She gives me a slightly embarrassed look, as if this isn’t the first time she’s heard the nickname they’ve assigned me.

“Well, I’d prefer not to talk about Aiden’s looks since that’s not why he’s my assistant,” I say.

Daniel has the decency to turn a little pink, so I decide not to harp on the issue any further, especially since I’m guilty of far more than just admiring Aiden’s looks. And I have no right to act as his protector.

If only I could stop thinking of him as mine.