Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
“Then maybe you should. Maybe it’s a cry for help.”
“I considered that, until he passed over the key and his revised paper.”
“What if it’s a copy? And why would his paper change your mind?”
“Because he wrote it based on a personal experience. His younger sister was abducted when she was six, and he was there when she went missing.” I explain what happened, informed by both the articles I read earlier today and his paper.
“Oh, God. I can’t even imagine.” She presses her fingers to her lips and shakes her head. “And she’s okay? His sister?”
“She’s a student here at the school. And she lives with Maverick. When can I stop stirring this?” My hand is starting to cramp.
“Let me test it.” She grabs a spoon and dips it into the pot, blowing on it for a few seconds before she tastes it. “Probably five more minutes. I’ll take over again. You grab the wine.”
I do as she asks and pour until she tells me to stop. I cork the bottle and lean against the counter. “How would I even know if the key was a copy?”
“You can take it to a locksmith. They’ll likely be able to tell you if it’s an original.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean he hasn’t made copies and doesn’t have a whole stack of them at home.”
“I already turned it over, so I can’t get the answer to that.”
“Who’d you turn it over to?”
“Someone who worked in the athletic facility.”
“Okay.” She nods pensively. “Well, from what you’ve told me about Maverick, making copies doesn’t seem to fit his profile.”
I swirl my wine, and the ice cubes clink against the glass. “How do you mean?”
Sophia rubs the space between her eyes. “I’m looking at this through a psychology lens, so bear with me. After you first slept with him, before he was your student, you talked about how sexy you found it that he consistently asked for permission before you engaged in—”
“Do not say intercourse.”
“Do you like relations better?” She gives me a cheeky grin.
I make a gagging noise. “Relations sounds like what people in retirement homes do.”
“Apparently people in retirement homes get it on all the time. They have very high STI rates.”
“Why are we talking about grandparents and STIs?”
“We’re not. We’re talking about the sex you had with Maverick.”
“Can we move this along?” I make a go-on motion. “I’ve been actively trying not to think about what the sex was like, and I was doing great until I saw him naked again.”
“I’ll get there. In a minute. There’s a purpose to my bringing this up. You used words like patient, attentive, and I believe fucking magical was also thrown in there. You called him a unicorn.”
“I didn’t know he was going to be my student then.”
“That’s not the point. The point is that during the short span of time when you fucked like bunnies, he was all those things. And now you’re telling me he came to see you, apologized, gave you the key to the athletic facility, and expressed concern for your well-being and feelings of safety.”
“But last night he threatened to blackmail me for sleeping with him.”
“After you told him he could be expelled?”
I cross my arms. “Yes.”
“Okay. So he reacted to your reaction. And then apologized for saying that at all. Now we have another layer to add. A man you have been intimate with handed in a paper before the sauna incident that indicates he’s experienced a very serious trauma. His whole family has.”
“Because of what happened to his sister.”
“Yes, exactly.” Sophia turns off the burner and moves the risotto to a trivet on the counter.
“Can you help me make all the connections here?”
“Today, when he came to see you in your office, his primary concern should have been an expulsion and the possibility of losing his entire future as a result, but it wasn’t. He was concerned about how he made you feel, about your safety.”
“He said there should be consequences for his actions.”
Sophia nods. “Exactly. It’s not what you would expect from someone in his position. His father is a hockey legend, and he seems to be on the same path.”
I grab my phone from my purse, ignore the messages from Gabriel that have appeared over the past couple of hours, and search NHL + Waters + career. An image of a man who looks very much like an older Maverick pops up on my screen, and his stats and earnings while he was a player are also public. “It says at one point his father was the highest-paid player in the league.” It also says that Maverick was picked up by Nashville as a first-round pick when he was eighteen.
Sophia arches a brow. “Those are quite the shoes to fill and quite the interesting family profile.”
I drop my phone on the counter, remove my glasses, and scrub a hand over my face. “Do you think I did the right thing then by not reporting him?”