Sunshine In The Morning (Spring-Summer Romance Book 1) by Alex Greenville Page A

his arms around her sides. You couldn’t see her face in it, but there was the dress, the fabric embracing her figure.
    “You haven’t mentioned her either,” Angela continued. “Not that it’s any of my business. I’m actually glad to see you’re dating someone, but you’ve kept it very quiet.”
    Unsure what to say, he said nothing at all, and that seemed to fuel her need to speak further.
    “She’s pretty, but looks young … younger, at least.”
    “I’m only thirty-one.” A juvenile response, and he hated it.
    Angela tilted her gaze. “You’re fond of her.”
    How she’d reached that conclusion, he had no idea, but the restlessness of his class, which should have begun long before now, brought him to his feet. “The award wasn’t much, though I’m grateful for it. I was reluctant to receive it, but glad I went, when all was said and done. And I had a lovely time. I’d really rather not make too big of an issue about it.”
    He cast a meaningful glance at the wall clock and was relieved when she stood. She made no attempt to claim the paper.
    “Congratulations, just the same.”
    With another smile, she strolled out, and he sagged. His shoulders slumping, he sank into his chair again, his will to teach today completely drained.
    His gaze returned to the image. He’d known there were pictures, but could only hope this was the extent of what had made print and that the award would be forgotten as the week progressed.
     

     
    “Professor Kai, My dad saw you in the paper. Something about receiving an award.”
    Aarin’s stomach tied in a knot. If he’d hoped the award would go unnoticed, he’d been distinctly wrong, and this student wasn’t the first to point it out. The rest of the attention he’d received was word of mouth, the natural progression of any rumor across campus. He done his best to overlook it, but late in the day, was feeling weary.
    “Anyhow, congrats.”
    Aarin nodded, but was thankful when the student left. He slipped into his office, locking the door. He had to have ten minutes of quiet or lose his sanity. But the instant he sat, his phone buzzed.
    Lydia. Figured you were between classes now. Wanted to say I missed you.
    Despite his unfocused mood, he smiled. I miss you, too. More than he thought possible. She was peace, a calm voice in his cluttered mind.
    She texted again. I trust you about tomorrow.
    Tomorrow, when she’d sit in his class gazing back at him. He trembled the slightest bit thinking of it. Her mentioning trust was significant. He’d promised to take care of things, but not decided how to do that. It seemed like he’d either have to let go of her or the job. He wasn’t sure he wanted to do either one.
    It’s just between us, she added.
    The newspaper Angela had left behind glowed back at him, his eyes automatically falling onto the photo of the two of them. Secrets had a way of escaping, and already he saw theirs starting to leak. Either he denied that entirely and looked like a fool, or he confronted the situation before it fell apart underneath them.
    Aarin? Lydia texted once more. Are we crazy to feel this way?
    His thumb on the keypad, he wished the press of it wasn’t so impersonal, a handful of letters meant to reassure her without actual contact. You are not crazy, he said. You are everything. He hit send.
    Everything. His greatest source of happiness, worth every minute of the turmoil he went through to see her.
     

     
    “I’ve made a decision,” Aarin said, his gaze scanning every part of the room but where she sat.
    That, in itself, Lydia could have overlooked, except for Karen’s interest on her left. More than once since class began, she’d glanced her way, knowingly.
    Aarin’s voice again drew her gaze. “I am no longer grading your work.”
    A murmur of student’s voices filled the room, one person leaning into the ear of the other.
    Lydia tried to read what he was thinking. He looked handsome, brown slacks, a pin-striped button