Here’s the Thing (Seddledowne #4)

Chapter 2 – Tally

two

TALLY

I had not intended to love him.

— CHARLOTTE brONT?

W hen I got to Ashton’s office, the door was open. He sat at his desk grading papers, his long legs barely fitting underneath, mumbling to himself. Ashton always talked to himself when he was upset. His wavy, wheat-colored hair was mussed like he’d raked his fingers through it in the last few minutes. I strained to decipher what he was saying but the words were too quiet. He clamped his jaw and a muscle ticked in his cheek. The fact that I could see it was surprising since he had a thick beard going on.

“You must be grading Jane Eyre papers.” I laughed, trying to ease the tension from earlier. Jane Eyre was part of the freshman English curriculum and one of his least favorite books.

He flinched and his head snapped up like he’d forgotten I was coming. Our gazes locked. His eyes were even more brilliant now that he was wearing a pair of stylish, black-rimmed readers. My pulse quickened as he scoured my face. What did he think he was going to find there?

His brow furrowed and he set the glasses on his desk. “No. That was last semester. This,” he held up a stack of papers, “is To Kill A Mockingbird .”

I was tempted to ride him about the amount of trees cut down in order for his students to hand their papers in the old-fashioned way. But he said staring at the screen too long gave him a headache. He didn’t mind killing a few trees if it saved him some eye strain. Plus, he thought it was good for them to do things the hard way. It was his ranch upbringing. I couldn’t argue with that. The Duprees had raised some of the most upstanding people I knew.

“Good old, Atticus Finch.” I walked in and plopped down in the plastic chair he kept for students. Then I looked around his office, taking it all in. The man was a conundrum, for sure. Yeah, he had a bookshelf of classics, a reproduction copy of Shakespeare’s First Folio , and a Yorick skull from Hamlet . But he also had a Millennium Falcon built from Legos, a Dwight Schrute bobblehead, and a Star Trek doormat that said Beam Me Up.

I scanned the array of framed pictures of his family. I’d helped my bestie, Anna, set those up for him when he was very first hired, the summer before my freshman year. I smiled at one of him and Anna, hugging each other in mock horror on the Peter Pan ride at Disney World.

Then I leaned across Ash, popped the door open on the mini fridge, and grabbed a Dr Pepper. Ah, sweet caffeine. Oh, how I need thee.

Once I’d taken a swig, I pried off my shoes, propped my socked feet up on his lap, and closed my eyes. “Did you read the new Spy vs Sigh chapter?” I knew he had. He was as into the series as I was. “Can you believe how close Jack came to kissing Raven in that safe house? The authors are trying to kill us with the suspense.” I grinned, eyes still closed. “I love it.”

“Yes, I read it and no, I don’t believe it.” There was a bite to his voice but there always was when we discussed Jack and Raven’s near kisses—as if he took a fictional couple’s lack of touching personally. “They need to get on with it. The series is already halfway through. If I’d written it ,” he practically growled. “They would’ve ripped each other’s clothes off already.”

“Typical guy. Nah. Keep the reader dangling.”

“They’ve made unspoken promises to their fans and it’s past time to fulfill them. If they don’t get on with it, people will stop reading.”

“They’ll get to it when?—”

My sentence was interrupted when Ashton shoved my feet off his lap. I pried my exhausted eyes open and sat up with a huff. He peeled my fingers from the soda can and set it on the desk.

My mouth fell open.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, eyes drilling into me, his expression painfully serious. “Tally? We need to talk.”

I shrugged. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

His lips twisted like he was frustrated and I looked at them too long. He had great lips like his brother Holden. Holden’s wife, Christy, always said they were girl's lips. But amidst the facial hair and masculine jaw, they totally worked.

Ash sighed. “I’ve thought a lot about this and I think if you really think this through…you’ll agree that it’s probably better if I hand you off to Dr. Gibson to be your thesis advisor.” Wait. What was happening? I shook my head, trying to catch up. “She loves romance and?—”

“Hand me off?”

He stared at me blankly.

“I don’t like Dr. Gibson. She’s pompous.” I waved at him. “Even more pompous than you and your big, fancy words.”

“I’m not pompous. I’m doing my job.”

“By trying to make us all feel stupid?”

“I’m trying to educate you. Big, fancy words are my bread and butter.” I opened my mouth to tell him he could teach without being a show-off but he talked over me. “And it’s going to be yours, soon.”

He squeezed his eyes shut as if this was as painful for him as it was for me. Somehow I doubted it. He wasn’t the one who’d have to deal with Nose-to-the-Grindstone Gibson. “I know Dr. Gibson isn’t your favorite person but she’s a way better fit for you. Her PhD is from the University of Michigan which boasts one of the best writing programs in the country. And she wrote her dissertation on?—”

“I don’t care what her fancy schmancy dissertation topic was. Or where she went to school. I’m comfortable with you .”

He blinked a couple of times. Then he clicked his tongue. “Exactly. You’re comfortable with me. Too comfortable. That’s why Dr. Gibson is?—”

I held up a hand, stopping him. “If you do this, you’re not just screwing me over here. You know that, right? How are you gonna get tenure if you don’t graduate students?”

“I’m handing one student off, Tally. One.”

Yeah, and that was the most hurtful part. “Oh, so Garrett you’re keeping, but I have to go?” I frowned and folded my arms. “He isn’t even smart. You only like him because he’s a stupid Trekkie.”

Ashton’s head cocked to the side and he suddenly looked tired. Of me.

My eyes burned and the end of my nose itched. “You’re serious? This isn’t a joke?”

His chest rose like he was taking a cleansing breath and I caught a whiff of his cologne. Montblanc Explorer. I knew the brand because I’d gone into a perfume store at the mall once and sniffed the entire men’s section until I figured it out. I let myself inhale. I’d take calm wherever I could find it.

“Not a joke. I wouldn’t play like that. This,” he pointed back and forth between us, “isn’t a healthy professor-student relationship. You don’t respect me, and honestly, I probably don’t respect you like I should.”

My head tilted as I tried to understand. “Is this because I got mad about you taking my phone? Because that was out of line. You would not have done that to another student.”

He started to respond and I cut him off.

“Or is it because I took a Dr Pepper without asking and rested my feet in your lap?”

His feminine lips, which I suddenly despised, pursed as if I’d proved his point.

I threw my hands up. “I could feel a headache coming on. I needed a pick-me-up and my feet hurt.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re almost done with school and I think you’ve leaned on me a little too much. It’ll be helpful for you to work with someone else. Someone like Dr. Gibson.”

“Exactly, Ash. I’m almost done.”

“It’s Professor Dupree,” he reminded me for the umpteenth time. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t call him professor to his face. It sounded fake. He was just Ashton. Ashton, who pounds on the table when he gets in a heated discussion. Ashton, who’d come to my rescue twenty times during undergrad when I couldn’t make the words come for a writing assignment. Ashton, who loved to quote cheesy Shakespeare lines to his brothers when they castrated bulls. Ashton, who could fix a flat tire in less than ninety seconds and made me time him to prove it.

Ashton, who made me laugh more than anyone.

“You’re the one who talked me into staying for a master’s.” I pounded on his desk, pulling a him , trying to break the seriousness of the conversation. Just a throwback to the very first time we met and he shouted his hate for Rochester at me.

He didn’t even crack a grin. He tipped back in his seat coolly and steepled his fingers. “Yes, as I should. You’re an amazing writer.” I opened my mouth to tell him he was a hypocrite but he quickly said, “And I never want you to question whether or not you earned your degree based on merit.”

I folded my arms and humphed. “I know I’ve earned it on merit. So we’re good then. You can keep being my advisor.”

He pressed his hands in a prayer pose and dropped his forehead to them. “No,” he said quietly but firmly. “Tally, I’ve thought about it for a long time. This is happening.” His tone said he was unmovable. End of discussion. No closing arguments.

My eyes stung and my breaths were too close together. I hadn’t seen this coming. At all. I sat up, searching his face. “What if I promise to treat you the same way I would my other professors? I can do that.”

He cocked a brow, looking skeptical.

“For four more months.” It would take major willpower, but if it meant keeping him as my advisor… I gripped the armrests. “Please, Professor Dupree?”

Those eyes held my stare for five long heartbeats. I almost thought I had him.

“No.” He shook his head and dropped his gaze. “Just..it’s for the best.” He shot up out of his seat and started gathering the papers on his desk. “Dr. Gibson is really excited to work with you.”

He’d already planned this out with her? It felt like I’d been sucker-punched.

I shook my head, blinking back tears. “Yeah. Okay. Have a nice…day, I guess?” I wanted to say have a nice life. I was that hu rt. But I couldn’t say that to him. He’d been a rock in my stormy sea and I didn’t have many of those.

This wasn’t it . We’d still see each other. Here and there. In class and around the building. And whenever Anna was visiting. But if that was true, why did it feel like I’d been shanked between the ribs?

When I got to the door, I turned to watch him, my heart so swollen and bruised that I could barely take a breath. But he busied himself, not saying goodbye. Not even glancing over his shoulder to watch me go.

I’d been dismissed. Tossed aside.

“Madden says hi,” I said softly as I grabbed the door handle.

Ashton stiffened, pausing his movements. Then he nodded, his back still turned. “Tell him I said hello.”

That was it?

He popped in some AirPods and sat back down at the desk.

That was it.

I pulled his office door shut behind me.

The moment I was outside in the cold January air, I took off at a jog, fighting the tears that were determined to fall. I had to get myself together before I got to Brooklyn’s and my apartment. Brooklyn wouldn’t understand my tears. I’d never seen her cry before. Not even the time she and Jonah broke up for a day. She said she didn’t understand the point. Crying never fixed anything.

Where was Anna when I needed her? Living her best life in Blacksburg, that’s where. Probably snuggled up with her hot, famous, college quarterback husband at this very minute.

In a fury, I drove, calling Professor Dupree every bad name I could think of. When I reached the apartment, it took all my willpower not to slam our front door. Brooklyn was in the kitchen, making homemade pizza with Whiskey and Women’s newest song cranked up to full blast. But that rammed the knife even further into my chest because the lead singer of Double Dubs was Ashton’s younger brother Ford. The light from the kitchen ceiling bounced off Brooklyn’s engagement ring, almost blinding me in my left retina. I picked her phone up from the counter and lowered the volume.

“Hey!” She frowned. But then she saw my face. Her hands went to her hips. “Why have you been crying?”

“I haven’t,” I lied.

“Stop trying to be tough for me, Tal. You have. The question is why?”

“Because…” My voice betrayed me with a shake. “Ashton reassigned me to another advisor.”

Brooklyn’s face scrunched. “But this is your last semester. You’re in the middle of writing your thesis.”

Technically, not true. I’d only written a rough outline.

“What was his reason?” She reached into the cheese bag and grabbed a handful of mozzarella.

“He said I was too informal with him.” I swore, calling him a name I’d missed back in the car.

Brooklyn snorted as she carefully layered the cheese over the pizza sauce. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

I threw my hands out. “He’s Anna’s uncle. Of course, I’m casual with him.”

As if I’d summoned Anna by saying her name, Brooklyn’s phone rang. I leaned over and pressed the green check.

“Hey Brook.” Anna’s voice flowed through the speaker. “Please tell me Tally’s with you.”

“Yeah,” Brooklyn said loud enough for the phone to pick her up. “She’s here. You’re on speaker.”

I’d probably missed Anna’s call. My phone was in my backpack by the front door. I folded my arms across my chest. “Did Professor Dupree tell you to check on me?”

“Yes, sweetie.” Anna’s tone dripped with pity .

I frowned so hard it probably left a permanent wrinkle on my forehead. “Well, you tell Professor Dupree if he wants to know how I am, he can ask me himself. Like a real man. Not the kind who shirks his duties.”

“Tally,” Anna chided. “I think we all know that if anyone takes his responsibilities seriously, it’s Ashton.”

“Ha! And Professor Dupree doesn’t get to know if I’m okay or not. You do not have my permission to pass anything along.” As an aside, I added, “I hope he chokes on his beard.” It was an impossibility. He kept it trimmed super short. But a girl could dream.

Brooklyn laughed as she placed pepperoni on top of the cheese. “You’re not bitter.”

Anna sighed. “I think what we really need to talk about is why you’re so upset about it. Because truth be told, you are almost done. It’s really not that big of a deal in the grand scheme. You’ll still be leaving JRC with a Master’s in Creative Writing regardless of who your advisor is.”

Why had she called me? Ashton—excuse me, Professor Dupree —was the one who should be getting the lecture. The one who needed to answer the ‘whys.’ Not me. I glanced at Brooklyn, hoping for some solidarity.

But Miss Logic tilted her head, eyes bulging, agreeing with Anna.

“Why are you really upset, Tal? Use your words,” Anna coaxed as if she were getting a graduate degree in psychology and not veterinary medicine.

“B-because,” I sputtered. “He’s my friend .” It came out sounding petulant. “You don’t do that to a friend.”

Brooklyn shrugged one shoulder as she scooped up a few stray pieces of shredded cheese. “I think it’s because he’s more than a friend.”

“Ding, ding, ding,” Anna sang annoyingly through the speaker .

My face heated. “He’s not more than a friend, you guys. I’m dating Madden.”

“Yeah,” Anna agreed. “And you want a slice of Ashton on the side.”

Now my face was boiling. “It’s not like that. I just…feel comfortable with him. You know how rare that is for me.”

“Comfortable? Is that what we’re calling it these days?” Brooklyn said. “Admit it. You’re attracted to him. All these digs you take at each other are simply a cover for what the rest of us call flirting.”

I shrunk back against the counter. “I am not attracted to him.”

“Oh, honey,” Anna said. “I think you are.”

I rolled my eyes but my mind was racing. “I know what it feels like to be attracted to someone, and I am not attracted to Professor Dupree.” His “new” title was already rolling right off the tongue.

“I dunno,” Brooklyn said in a disbelieving tone. “He’s pretty hot. And he’s got those shoulders. And remember that time we went to the lake and saw him without a shirt on?” Brooklyn fanned herself.

She had a point. We’d had no idea he was hiding that body under all his stiffly starched dress shirts. She and I had snickered about it all day. Called him Professor Abs-ton and Ashton the Action figure behind his back. Even with the farmer’s tan, it was wholly impressive.

Brooklyn snapped her fingers. “And there’s the matter of his dimple.”

I huffed. “Which you can’t even see anymore because of his stupid beard. Blue’s dimple is better anyway.”

“Facts,” Anna and Brooklyn said in unison.

“But Ash has the famous Dupree eyes,” Anna said.

Brooklyn snorted. “You wouldn’t be the first woman to get lost in them.”

I said nothing. They’d know I was lying if I tried to deny that. The same way the Earth orbits the sun, Ashton’s eyes were factually beautiful. In fact, they were so distracting they needed a warning label. I’d gotten lost in them way too many times when he was talking to me.

“You know you’ve thought about kissing him.” Brooklyn smirked.

I scoffed. “I have not.” But the barest mention of the idea was all it took for my brain to conjure an image of Ash still wearing the shirt he had on today. Suddenly, I was the main character in my very own fantasy. He smashed me against a wall, his mesmerizing eyes honed in on my lips. He leaned in closer, a little closer. His mouth crashed over mine. Passionately. His hands were in my hair as I tilted into him, moaning. My stomach fluttered like a hummingbird hopped up on espresso. This made-up kiss was infinitely better than the real ones I shared with Madden.

I’d barely processed that last thought when Brook snapped right in my face. “Earth to Tally.”

My eyes opened wide.

She looked at me. I looked at her.

Holy crap.

I’m attracted to Ashton Dupree .

My hands gripped the counter so the world didn’t tip sideways. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

They both burst out laughing. I walked out of the open kitchen and into the living room.

“I hate you guys.” I groaned as I flopped onto the couch.

Brooklyn shoved the pizza into the oven and brought the portable speaker with her into the living room. She set it on the coffee table and looked down at me. “So what are you going to do about it?”

I sat up, gaping at her. “There’s nothing to do about it. So what? I think Ashton is cute.” Apparently. “He’s…old. ”

“He’s not old. He’s old er . Think of him as mature. ” Anna sounded annoyed. She was just being protective of her uncle.

Brooklyn shrugged. “My dad is eleven years older than my mom.”

I raised a brow. “Really?” I never knew that. Never even suspected it. Ashton was eight years older than me. It felt like eight hundred with the way he treated me. Thinking about the age difference made my stomach try to come up my throat.

Considering it was pointless anyway. A total non-issue. Even if Ashton hadn’t been eleventy-billion years old, he clearly wanted nothing to do with me.

And I was dating Madden. I pounded my palm against my forehead, trying to keep my boyfriend in the forefront.

Brooklyn nodded. “I think once you’re over twenty-five, it’s more about compatibility than age.”

“Well, I’m only twenty-four.” I let my head drop back against the couch, processing it all.

“You know Ashton is a great guy.” Anna sounded like she was trying to sell me something.

“Just because I’ve acknowledged he’s…” I gulped, terrified to admit it out loud. I’d barely admitted it in my head. “…nice to look at, doesn’t mean I’m doing anything about it. Because first of all…Madden.” Who would be so hurt if he overheard this conversation. “Anna, you can’t say anything to Blue.” Her husband was Madden’s best friend.

Anna sighed but it was as good as a promise. She’d take it to the grave. She was that kind of friend. The Diana to my Anne.

“Yup,” Brook agreed. “Madden.”

“And secondly,” I said. “If Madden didn’t exist—which he does, so the whole conversation is pointless—but if he didn’t, I don’t even know if Ashton likes me like that. He treats me like a child.” That was what frustrated me most. He hadn’t given me a say in switching to Dr. Gibson. He told me, the same way a mother tells her kid she is doing the chore she doesn’t want to do.

“I think you may have set that precedent,” Brooklyn said. “You’re constantly calling him gramps.”

“He might like you.” There was an inflection in Anna’s tone that I couldn’t quite put a finger on. It sounded off, like maybe she knew he didn’t but she didn’t want to hurt me by saying so.

I scratched my forehead. “Okay. I’m attracted to Ash. Big deal. How many times have one of you come across someone you’re attracted to who isn’t your guy?”

Nothing but crickets.

“Really?” I let out a pfft and then shrugged, belying my frazzled nerves. “It’s common enough to be attracted to someone. You can’t tell me it’s not. And now that I know, I’ll be more aware of how I act. So it’s a good thing he’s not going to be my advisor then. He did me a favor.”

“Good luck acting normal around him. Your face is worse than the most shocking celebrity tell-all,” Brooklyn said.

I huffed at Brooklyn’s dubious expression and her hurtful words. “My face is an airtight vault, thankyouverymuch.”

“Maybe if you live in Delusion Land.”

I huffed again but I was losing my confidence. Almost as absolute as Ashton’s beautiful eyes was the fact that I had one of those faces. The kind that tells you exactly what someone is thinking or feeling.

I gasped as everything fell into place.

Ashton knew .

That’s why he’d cast me aside like a typo in a first draft. He knew I was attracted to him and it sickened him. He had no choice but to get rid of me.

Brooklyn was right. My only hope to keep what dignity I had left was to stay away from Ashton.

Far, far away.