Chadwick's POV
I couldn’t even focus on the ink. The student scripts were spread across my mahogany desk like a graveyard of mediocre thoughts, but the words were blurring into a mess of gray lines. I was holding my fountain pen so tight I could feel the tension in my forearm, and then snap. The barrel gave way. Dark blue ink bled all over my palm, staining my skin like a bruise.
I didn't even swear. I just stared at it.
I pushed back from the desk, the chair screeching against the hardwood floor of my study. I started pacing. Three steps to the window, three steps back to the bookshelf. My mind was stuck in that damn lecture hall, replaying the way Noah Sinclair looked at Danny. His eyes were concentrated at Danny the whole lecture.
And Danny. My God, Danny.
For the first time since
