Chapter 4
Stella:
The silence stretched between us, heavy with everything Zoe didn't know. I could hear her voice drifting from the lobby, still arguing about peonies, oblivious to the fact that she'd just trapped me in a nightmare.
Noah's hands were still in his hoodie pockets, his expression unreadable. The wedding venue's fluorescent lighting made everything feel too bright, too exposed.
"We should probably talk," he said finally.
I forced myself to breathe normally. "Yes. We should."
He glanced toward the door where Zoe had disappeared, then back at me. "Not here though."
"The storage room," I said quietly. "Down that hallway."
---
The storage room smelled like dust and old carpet. I closed the door and immediately put distance between us, crossing my arms.
Noah leaned against a stack of folding chairs, looking entirely too comfortable.
"So," he said. "This is awkward."
The casual tone grated against my nerves. I couldn't stand that playful edge in his voice, like this was all some amusing game.
"We need to establish some ground rules," I said, keeping my voice cold.
"Rules." He tilted his head. "Like what?"
"Like you don't mention that night to anyone. Ever." I took a step closer. "I can't have any complications right now. Do you understand?"
I didn't say the rest. Didn't tell him about the tenure application sitting in the department chair's office, about how one whisper of impropriety could unravel everything.
His expression shifted, something more serious flickering behind those eyes. "I'm not trying to complicate anything, Professor."
"Good." I held his gaze. "Because your academic performance reflects on both of us now. You showed up late to my class on the first day. That's not the kind of pattern you want to establish."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a reminder. This is a required course. You need to pass it to graduate, and I expect my students to take it seriously."
"I can manage." He straightened slightly. "Don't worry. I'm not interested in making things difficult for you. You're my professor, and you're Zoe's friend. I get it."
Relief flooded through me, though I refused to show it.
"Though I have to say," he added, that hint of amusement creeping back, "you're much stricter in private than you are in the classroom. Is that part of the defense mechanism we talked about? Avoidant attachment?"
My jaw tightened. "Mr. Carter—"
"Relax, Professor. I'm just trying to understand the material." His smile widened. "Isn't that what good students do?"
Before I could respond, the door swung open. Zoe appeared, phone still pressed to her ear.
"There you two are! Noah, chairs. Stella, caterer. Go." She was already walking away.
Then she turned back, her expression softening. "Stella, seriously, thank you for keeping an eye on him at school. He acts like he has everything figured out, but he's still my baby brother, you know?"
My stomach twisted. "Of course. Don't worry about it."
"Yeah, Professor Morrison's got me covered," Noah said, and I wanted to strangle him for that tone. "Right, Dr. Morrison?"
"I'll make sure Mr. Carter stays on track," I said through my teeth.
"Perfect." Zoe beamed. "Oh, and Noah, make sure you have Stella's number in case you need help with anything. Academic emergencies, you know how it is freshman year."
My heart stopped.
"Actually, I don't have Professor Morrison's contact info yet," Noah said, pulling out his phone with practiced ease. "Just her office hours email."
No. No, no, no.
"Stella, give him your number," Zoe said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I can't always be the middleman, and you're way better at this teaching thing than I am."
I stared at her, desperately trying to think of a reason to refuse that wouldn't sound suspicious.
"The university directory has all the information students need," I tried.
"Come on, don't be difficult." Zoe waved her hand dismissively. "He's not just any student, he's practically family. What if there's an emergency and I'm in a pitch meeting?"
Noah stood there, phone ready, that same knowing smile playing at his lips.
I was trapped.
"Fine." I rattled off my number, each digit feeling like a small defeat.
Noah typed it in, then looked up. "Got it. Thanks, Professor Morrison."
"Just for academic emergencies," I said firmly, looking at Zoe instead of him. "And only during reasonable hours."
"Of course," Noah said. "I wouldn't want to bother you outside of... appropriate contexts."
The way he said appropriate made my skin prickle.
Zoe's phone rang again. "I have to take this. You two get to work!"
She disappeared, leaving us standing there in the hallway.
"Guess I'll be seeing a lot more of you," Noah said quietly, sliding his phone back into his pocket.
"In class," I corrected. "During appropriate academic contexts."
"Right. Where else would I see you, Professor?" His eyes glinted. "Although now I can text you if I have any... urgent questions about attachment theory."
He walked away before I could think of a response that didn't sound desperate or defensive.
I stood there, my phone suddenly feeling like a loaded weapon in my pocket.
This was going to be a disaster.
---
Over the next two weeks, I saw Noah Carter everywhere.
The campus coffee shop when I grabbed my afternoon latte. The student union when I picked up printing. The Main Quad, exactly where I cut through to faculty parking.
Each time, he'd glance up. Each time, that same knowing look.
I started taking different routes. It didn't help.
"Dr. Morrison's lectures are actually kind of interesting," I heard a girl say nearby. She sat on a bench with friends, textbooks spread around them.
"She's also gorgeous," another voice added. Male. "Did you see her in that dress last week?"
I kept walking, face burning.
But then I caught movement from the corner of my eye. Noah, sitting on the steps with his laptop. He'd definitely heard them too.
Our eyes met for half a second.
I looked away and walked faster.
---
Thursday afternoon, my office was packed. I'd announced a quiz for next week, and suddenly everyone cared about attachment theory.
Three students crowded in, asking questions about secure versus avoidant patterns, while I explained concepts I'd covered multiple times in lecture.
A knock interrupted us.
Noah stood in the doorway.