Julian drives us back to the apartment. It’s already after midnight. My best friend is too drunk to stand, and my anticipated alone time with my gorgeous professor has been postponed.
Lora has fallen asleep in the backseat, and I imagine various ways to get her to our room.
“Do you need help?” Julian asks, glancing over at my best friend in the back.
I let out a sigh. “Whenever this happens, Kristoff used to carry her on his back. So, yes, I need your help.”
He laughs, and the sound he makes slithers down my stomach. “I’ve witnessed worse. Help me get her up.”
“Sure thing.” I get out of the car and then go to the backseat to open the door. I slide into the backseat to shake Lora’s shoulder, but she groans.
“She won’t wake up,” I say.
“Hold the back of her head and push over here.”
I obey because he gestures to the other side. Julian gently hooks Lora’s arm to his shoulder and helps her out of the car while I support her.
Lora almost falls down, but our professor immediately catches her. He grunts as he does so. I’m almost tempted to laugh at how flustered he looks.
“Get her to my back,” he instructs.
“Did you carry me like this too?”
“Oh, do you find this amusing, Ms. Scott? No, I didn’t carry you on my back. I held you in my arms.”
“Sorry.” I purse my lips. Well, I’m flattered. It sounded like I was some sort of exception. He is a well-regarded professor, and the other professors look up to him, but I feel like I’ve degraded him. “I mean, I’m sorry about this.”
Julian bends slightly, and I help Lora in getting onto his back. We then proceed to the elevator. I get off first and then walk to our front door. I enter the key code into the lock, and the door clicks open. Thankfully, the inside is clean.
“Come in,” I invite.
“Where should I put her?”
“Follow me, please.”
I lead him into Lora’s room, and he carefully places her on the bed. Still, Lora doesn’t rouse from the shift in her position. I quickly remove her shoes and cover her with a blanket.
“She’s quite heavy.” Julian rests his hands on his waist. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s stuck on you despite what happened.”
“We look out for each other.” I give him a smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. But I think you owe me a cup.”
“Of course.” I crack a nervous laugh. “Do you put latte and sugar in there, or just black?”
“Just black.”
“Right.”
I bring Julian into our living room, but he doesn’t sit and instead looks around. He looks up at the ceiling, a few paintings on the walls, sofa, TV, and curtains. The kitchen and dining area are straight across the living room, so he can see the entire space except for the bedrooms.
“The apartment isn’t very spacious, but the building is fairly new, so I like it,” I say, remembering his penthouse’s size.
I begin by boiling the water and putting the ground coffee beans in the brewing basket. Lora doesn’t drink the instant ones from the grocery. Thankfully, I used to work at a coffee shop, so I know how to make a freshly brewed one.
“I think it’s cozy and quiet,” Julian says. “I’m glad you found a nice place around here.”
“Lora’s parents own the building. The rent is high, but I had enough allowance to cover it.” I take two cups from the cupboard. “This is by far the nicest place I’ve ever lived, especially compared to the storeroom of the coffee shop where I used to board.”
“Hold on.” He scowls furiously. “What did you just say?”
“What?”
“You mentioned boarding in a coffee shop’s storeroom.”
“Oh.” Crap. Did I say that?
I had become engrossed in our conversation again. My mind seems to be developing a terrible habit of wandering off whenever I’m in conversation with him.
“What do you mean, Anya?”
“Please sit. This is almost done,” I quietly say, breaking eye contact with him.
“Don’t avoid the question. I’m not leaving this apartment until you tell me about it,” he declares firmly. He sits on the sofa, still watching me.
I take the pot out of the chamber and fill our cups with black coffee. I usually drink mine with a latte, but I’ll try it black this time for the hangover.
I walk to him, hand him his cup, and sit by his side. I suppose I have no choice but to tell him. It’s funny how I barely know Julian but have almost disclosed everything about myself to him.
“I was sixteen when my parents died,” I begin, but he already knows that. “My dad ran up enormous credit bills funding my private music school, leaving me with only his old Toyota. I was evicted from home because I couldn’t pay the rent.”
“And how long did this last?” he asks tersely.
“Until I received the John Pitch Scholarship, which I already mentioned.”
His face hardens as if he’s agitated, but he’s more surprised. “So you were on your own for nearly five years?”
“I believe so.” I take a sip of my coffee. The bitterness exacerbates the uncomfortable tension in my chest. “I graduated high school a year late because I needed to save money for my senior year. I didn’t want to stop going to Barnett High School, so I had to work to make ends meet.”
“And then you moved into the coffee shop where you used to work?” He asks to shorten the story, but a lot has already happened.
“No, for a few months, my new home was my dad’s old car—”
“Hold on.” He sets his cup down with shaky fingers. A muscle in his jaw ticks.
“Are you okay?” I search for his eyes.
“I’m fine. Please proceed.”
“Eventually, I sold that car because I was a few thousand short of continuing my final year at Barnett. That’s also when I got a job at a coffee shop in Queens. Mrs. Miller, the owner, is a very generous woman. She offered me free lodging on the second floor.”
I wasn’t entirely miserable while working there. Mrs. Miller is a single mother of two kids, David and Sophie. I grew close to them as if they were my younger siblings. David was twelve at the time, and Sophie was only nine. They are the sweetest and most considerate people. I’ve never felt lonely with them always dropping by at the coffee shop. I never forget about them, so I still pay them visits whenever I miss them.
“And now I think living in a coffee shop is better than living in a car.” He makes a sardonic grin at his own expense. “But, Anya, how did you survive the years before that? Winter is even worse. Didn’t you try looking for your relatives?” he implores.
“I’m not even sure if they exist. Mom was Colombian, but she moved to Atlanta when she was nineteen to work. She married my dad when she was twenty, but Dad’s parents died much earlier before I was born.”
“I’m sorry. That must’ve been lonely,” he muffles, his hypnotic gaze fixed on me.
“It was.” But remembering these things from the past doesn’t hurt me more than knowing and realizing I was alone—that the people I loved died before I could show them I’d finally achieved my dreams. Seeing them all die in front of my eyes was far worse than having nowhere decent to live.
However, I’d like to skip the part where I lived in a homeless shelter for a few months and worked part-time jobs before landing as an assistant barista and server at Mrs. Miller’s coffee shop.
“But you will not go through that again,” Julian assures.
“I’m hoping so. The scholarship saved my life. I’m doing my best to keep it, hoping to avoid failing grades until I graduate.”
“You won’t.” Julian reaches for my lap and holds my hand. “I will not let that happen to you again, Anya. I promise.” He kisses my knuckles with his hand to his mouth.
“How are you able to do that? It’s not like you’re responsible for me.”
“You have no idea.” His hand moves over my face, cupping it. His fingers trace the outlines of my cheek, gently probing and observing...
I close my eyes and feel his warmth on my skin. But eventually, I bowed my head, took his hand in mine, and met his piercing gaze. He’s looking at me with an odd, unfamiliar desire.
“God, what else has happened to you, mm?”
“A lot of things.”
“Anya, if you’d just let me look after you...”
“But you’re going to leave me too.” My chest starts to feel heavy again, and my eyes swell.
“That’s not true.”
“Trust me, it happens every time,” I whisper, trembling.
“It will not.” He swallows hard, his attention becoming solemn. “Because back then, you didn’t have me. You now have.”
He bends over me. Before I can close my eyes, his perfect mouth finds mine.