"So take a guess," he pressed.
"Well, Professors have to go to grad school and then get their masters to teach right?"
"Yes, but I didn't do that. I was busy running a company in my early twenties. They granted me an honorary degree at the last university I worked at if I agreed to teach a few entrepreneurship classes in their master's program. I have the same arrangement here."
"So, maybe you're 29?" Please don't be over 30.
"Close. I'm only 27."
Only 27. If I was 22 like he thought I was, there would only be five years difference between us. An eight year difference seemed worse. But my birthday was soon. I'd be twenty in a few weeks. I needed to tell him. This was the perfect opportunity.
He pulled up outside of my dorm and cut the ignition. "What, you're sad that I'm not older?"
