Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96007 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96007 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“Thank you, Oaklyn. Thank you.” I barely croaked the words past the lump in my throat.
“Of course, it’s my job.”
Her words were a bucket of cold water over me, and I froze. “Don’t cheapen this,” I pleaded. I couldn’t diminish the enormity of what I’d just done. Because of her.
“I’m just stating the truth.”
Another bucket of ice and I couldn’t stand there as she made one of the biggest moments of my life nothing but a job. Nothing but something she felt she had to do. I couldn’t listen to it. I wouldn’t. I pulled back and began fastening my pants. “This isn’t your job and you know it. This was me and you.”
“What does me and you even mean anymore? Now that all of this is out in the open, you don’t have to hide anymore. You can waltz right in and know I’m available for whatever you want.” The hurt bled through the cold tone she tried to use. I hated that I’d put it there. I hated that she had to work here and even wonder. “You don’t have to hide anything at school anymore and be my friend.”
“That’s not at all—”
“I can’t right now, Callum. Just . . . not right now.” Her tired admission pierced my heart.
She hadn’t moved from her spot yet by the time I’d finished dressing. She still lay flat on the bed, her head in the blanket and my cum on her back. I had to try and talk to her one more time. Make her understand how wrong she was.
“Oaklyn, please.”
“Just go, Callum.”
I closed my eyes tight and tried to gather myself, tried to fight back the ball of emotion working its way up my throat.
“Please,” she whispered.
So I did as she asked. I left. I didn’t want to, and I didn’t think it was the end of it all, but I left because in that moment, I knew she needed time to process.
But I wasn’t letting go. I wasn’t done trying with her yet. Not by a long shot.
17
Oaklyn
I pressed ignore on another phone call from my parents. It was too windy on my walk across campus, and I just didn’t have it in me to talk to them. They sent me messages with their apologies and let me know how proud they were of me, but I just couldn’t hear it and respond the way they were expecting. I didn’t feel like I was doing anything to make them proud, and while I’d forgiven them, I was still bitter and angry about the situation I was in.
Especially after last night.
A shiver shook my body as I remembered what Dr. Pierce had done to me. A mixture of emotions twisted inside my body.
Heat from the way he’d watched me, the way he’d touched me, the way he’d stroked himself, the way he came.
Shame from letting him touch me and letting my anger go so easily. From admitting my deepest fear that he would think I was a whore, that maybe I thought I was a whore.
I shook off the feeling and focused on getting to my appointment. Dr. Denly, my department advisor, had emailed me yesterday asking me to come see him this morning before classes. He hadn’t said what it was about, and all the possibilities had my nerves firing off on high alert.
If I was nervous for my meeting with Dr. Denly, then I was petrified of Dr. Pierce’s class. Maybe my meeting would run late, and I’d have an excuse not to go.
I knocked on the open door. “Hi, Dr. Denly. You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, yes. Come in.” He pulled his wire-framed glasses off and leaned back in his chair, indicating I take a seat. “Bit chilly this morning, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” I agreed, shedding my jacket. “I’m looking forward to the spring.”
“Me too.” He clapped his hands together and smiled. “But I didn’t ask you to come so we could chit-chat about the weather. I wanted to discuss an opportunity with you. It came across my desk yesterday and you’re one of the first people I thought of.”
“Okay,” I said.
“I know we talked about your money situation earlier this semester, and I wanted to let you know about an internship that is opening up with the athletic department. You’d be helping out the physical therapist.”
“Um, wow. Thank you. Are there any certain criteria they’re looking for?” I asked, all of this sounding too good to be true.
“They usually want someone who is a sophomore or higher and has anatomy and physiology under their belt.” My heart plummeted since I checked none of those boxes. “But you’re a good student, Oaklyn. The program will start over the summer with some training and officially kick off next fall. And you have advanced A&P from high school. Pair that with my recommendation, and I’m sure they will overlook a few things. We’ll also get you signed up for the right courses to show them your initiative. I think you’re a good fit.”