“Wait, that’s Maxwell Radclyffe?” Talia pointed at the guy in the front row. “The Maxwell Radclyffe, head of the Human Sexuality Department?”
“You know him?”
“I know of him. I never took his class.” Now that she’d put a face with the name, the nape of Talia’s neck warmed at the thought. Because everyone on campus knew the name, whether they knew him or not.
Maxwell Radclyffe. The man made one of her friends fantasize about rolling around naked in fields of English lavender. Another classmate shared an old editorial piece he’d written as an undergrad at Harvard—one that detailed a day of naked protest on Capitol Hill. Then there was the rumor that campus security had busted him and another professor skinny-dipping in a fountain. Was it Tamara? Talia looked back as she thought and then turned away. It wasn’t her business.
Either way, the rumor didn’t make much sense. The only fountain on school grounds couldn’t hold two adult bodies at once. Still, that didn’t stop the rumor from spreading far and wide.
Despite all the campus lore, Talia had never knowingly laid eyes on him. Their worlds were that far apart. And now, the smell of him lingered in her.
“Well, I wish I knew a little less of him. Tamara loves to kiss and tell. And while I will admit it was very interesting at first, it’s a little TMI now.” Emily removed her bag from a nearby seat she had saved for Tamara.
“How…so?” Better question—why was Talia suddenly so interested?
“Tamara is extremely open with her sexuality, as I’m certain Maxwell is, too. He probably doesn’t care that she shares every detail of what happens behind closed doors, but after a while it gets a little awkward. It’s not a threesome, you know? There are certain things I should not know about someone I’m not sleeping with.”
“Everything?” Talia asked, hoping to pull a little more out of her.
“Everything,” Emily confirmed, eyes going wide. “But it’s not love. It’s just sex. I think Tamara has an actual boyfriend somewhere else. She’s just dick-whipped.”
Talia startled, bouncing in her seat at the term. Because…dick-what?
“I’m sorry, what?” Talia buried her face in her hands to stifle the fit of laugher spasming through her poor body.
“Dick-whipped,” Emily said through her teeth a little louder. When Talia snorted, Emily sighed. “You don’t read dating blogs, do you?” she asked. All Talia could manage was a headshake, still trying to control herself.
“It’s when the sex is so good that it’s the only reason you stay.” Emily said all this like it was common knowledge. Recovered slightly from her giggles, Talia glanced around wondering. If they polled the audience right now, would she be the only one who didn’t know what dick-whipped was?
“And good for her,” Emily continued. “Tamara knows what she wants and she isn’t afraid to ask for it. I can admit I envy her that.” She paused and then added, “I can admit I envy her him. Can you imagine?” She let the question hang. Yes, everyone can and did imagine him, she was certain.
Talia nodded slowly, casting a quick, sideways glance back to the front row.
“Good for her.” Talia shrugged. “I can’t even figure out how to set up a dating profile that’s worth a damn.”
“Have you tried Bumble?” Emily asked.
Talia shook her head and was relieved when the meeting was called to order. Her lie was a little white one. She had an account. It just wasn’t active. Once, she’d gone so far as to fill out the form. Only, when it came time to press the submit button, her finger simply couldn’t close the deal. Balancing school and work took all her time anyway.
With a notepad and pen, she dutifully scribbled notes on everything President Harlow said. Not that it was important. The meeting was more of a pep rally to get everyone excited about the new school year. It wouldn’t be on the test. More than once her eyes strayed to that seat in the front row—wondering, thinking.
Maxwell freakin’ Radclyffe.
Was it just a coincidence that he had found her in the crowd? Would he have nodded at anyone who caught his eye, or was that only for her? Why did she care? He wasn’t the kind of guy who would ever go for someone like her. The very idea of skinny-dipping in a fountain made her palms sweat. Boldly taking what she wanted? No way. Talia was the tortoise, not the hare. She didn’t even know what dick-whipped meant. His type had to.
So, then, whose type was she?
When Lorena took the podium, Talia snapped out of it. Tapping the microphone, Lorena leaned away when a loud screech pealed into the room.
“Oh! Sorry about that.” She produced two paper bags, setting one on either side of the microphone. “For this year’s faculty mentorship program, we have decided to shake things up.” Lorena’s shoulders wiggled in a small dance move. The audience chuckled and a murmur rose. Everyone seemed to like Lorena as much as she had. “Instead of assigning mentors to mentees, we’re going to draw names.” She reached for one of the bags, her eyes wide with anticipation.
“I really like her. Have you had your meeting with President Harlow yet?” Talia whispered over her shoulder to Emily.
Emily turned to answer, but before words came out, they were silenced.
“Talia King…” Her name echoed in her ears. Momentarily paralyzed at being put on the spot when she wasn’t paying attention, Talia didn’t know what to do. Before she could decide, she was rising to her feet to answer as teachers expected her to. Old habits and all.
Onstage, Lorena’s hand was raised to her brow, peering into the audience. Talia offered a small wave and clasped her arms over her chest. “Oh, there you are!” she pointed to Talia and the entire audience turned her way. “And…Maxwell Radclyffe!”
Wait, what?
Her ears blazed. She fought the flames that rushed to her cheeks best she could. It was hopeless. Still motionless, she wavered on her feet while, in the front row, he found his. He turned to the crowd, lifting his hand just like Lorena had, found her, and nodded. Same as before. A small, courteous gesture. His smile lopsided and teasing. His eyes daring. The crowd’s mumbling grew louder. Or was that just her? Knowing she was seconds away from looking like a lobster, she nodded back and quickly took her seat.
What the hell just happened?
“Wanna trade?” Emily whispered, unaware of who her mentor would be but knowing Maxwell’s lessons would be far more interesting.
Talia exhaled a breathy laugh. Outside, she was frozen. Inside, she was slowly melting down.
Learning was a lifelong love affair for Talia. As she slumped further into her seat, she had to wonder—was she ready to learn the kind of lessons Maxwell Radclyffe had to teach?