The next week felt different.
Not easier.
Not safer.
Just different.
The tension between Ethan and me hadn't disappeared. If anything, it had become more dangerous now that we both knew exactly how we felt.
The problem was that nothing else had changed.
He was still my professor.
The university still existed.
And Claire was still watching.
One Friday evening, my phone buzzed unexpectedly.
A single message.
Can you cook?
I stared at the screen.
Then laughed.
For several seconds.
Finally, I replied.
That depends. Are you trying to survive or impress someone?
The response arrived immediately.
Survive.
Twenty minutes later, I found myself standing outside Ethan's house.
My heart raced as I knocked on the door.
This felt different from meeting on campus.
More personal.
Mo
