No Second Chances [ON HOLD]

Chapter 4: Boundaries

I blink at the open slide deck on my laptop, forcing myself to focus on the data table I'm supposed to be creating. I need to get it finished tonight and sitting in Professor Rennberg's inbox by morning.

Professor Natasha Rennberg, inventor of the Rennberg Retinal Prosthesis (TM), is a huge name in my field. I studied her work in grad school, and her presence at Wallingford is one of the reasons I came here. A word from her could make or break my chances at tenure. I can't afford to squander an opportunity to impress her. There will only be so many chances before she retires in a few years, and her successor will be named.

Tabitha's convinced the decision will come down between the two of us. She's being generous in this assessment, and we both know it. If it comes down to Tabitha or me, she's got it in the bag. I may have been invited to collaborate on Rennberg's latest symposium presentation, but Tabitha has me beaten by a mile when it comes to schmoozing faculty and playing departmental politics. She's on a first name basis with everyone on the tenure committee. Heck, she and Jae play doubles pickleball with the Chair. Tabitha's next in line, and I don't begrudge her in the least. She'll be a good best friend to have once she's a tenured faculty member herself.

But this presentation is my chance to get some valuable exposure. I should have had it done hours ago, long before I left the office and headed home. The clock on my computer screen ticks forward from 11:59 to 12:00 am, and I suppress a groan.

It's no use. The numbers swim before my eyes. I can't concentrate, and the reason has nothing to do with the vagaries of the tenure committee. I've been distracted all afternoon, ever since a certain someone dropped by for office hours.

I shut my laptop and blow out a long breath. Jamie Bowen has been back in my life for a grand total of 12 hours, and he's already living rent-free in my head.

"Here I am at last, with my very own university ID..."

No wonder I failed to process the color of the print on his ID card. I was still in shock at seeing him, and then he hit me with that piece of news. A first-year undergraduate? I've been a ball of mixed emotions ever since.

I never thought I'd see the day. Back when we were together, Jamie reacted to any suggestion of further schooling with a cool contempt I never fully understood. He wouldn't elaborate on his objections. The topic was simply not up for discussion.

And now here he is, a freshman in college? And not just any school. It's no cakewalk to land a spot at Wallingford. The competition for admission here is fierce.

"I thought you might be pleased."

He was right about that. A part of me is pleased. A part of me is downright thrilled. He finally got his head out of his ass? A part of me is jumping up and down and yelling "I told you so!" at the top of my lungs.

But a part of me can't help but view his sudden presence here with a healthy dose of suspicion.

Of all the universities in the world, he chose this one. An insular campus in the middle of nowhere, where the undergrad dorms are the only viable form of housing? It doesn't add up. Plenty of people his age go back to school, but not here. There are a million other programs located in major cities, set up for older career changers who prefer to live off campus.

No, it's a red flag. No doubt in my mind. It can't be a coincidence that Jamie would choose Wallingford University of all places. There's only one conceivable reason.

Me.

He's here to mess with me.

Which is why I was completely justified in my reaction...