Page 41 of Give In

Trapping me in.

“I talked with Professor Peters,” he started.

My shoulders slumped in relief. “So you know I withdraw the drop request. Fine. Can I go back to class?”

“He also suggested I work with you for your independent studies.”

My attitude and anxiety were both forgotten as excitement bubbled through me.

Although independent studies were done, well,independently, I’d still need an overseeing advisor to guide my work and make sure it was at the level it needed to be.

After months of being ignored, what I wanted most was being dangled like a carrot on a string.

I’d be pushed and challenged, learning from the brilliant Professor Damien Caine—something I’d have sold my soul for before.

But I knew better than to expect anything from him.

My bubbling excitement went flat as reality set in, reminding me that my life wasn’t an Oscar-bait inspirational movie, and he wasn’t Robin Williams or Edward James Olmos.

Professor Caine wouldn’t give me some epic moment of learning. He’d had plenty of chances, but had only given me the silent treatment and anxiety… and some mild indigestion.

Which was why my head was shaking before I even gave it the command to. “No, thank you.”

Huh, lookie there. I actually do have a sense of self-preservation.

Who knew?

His brows lowered, his tone stunned as he repeated, “‘No, thank you?’”

“Ceaders already offered to oversee my work.”

“Yes, Peters mentioned that. However, we’ve agreed your strength lies in the theoretical side of politics, not in the comparison.”

“Which is why I think it’s best to work with Ceaders. Strengthen one of my weaker areas,” I explained.

“So because you have proficiency in a field, that means you no longer need to learn? You don’t want to push yourself to be more than average?” he questioned, finally playing devil’s advocate.

But since it was regarding my personal choices and not my school work, I gave zero fucks about his opinion. He could bite myaverageass.

I opened my mouth to tell him so, but then I saw it.

The spark in his eyes. The smirk he tried to hide.

He was goading me, wanting a reaction.

I wasn’t going to give him one.

Tamping down my ego and my temper, I gave him a bland smile. “Not at all. But that doesn’t negate the fact that staying under Ceaders’ guidance so I can strengthen a weakness is the right choice.”

He was silent for a moment before crossing his arms over his broad chest. “What an interesting way to phrase it. ‘StayingunderCeaders’ implies a lot, Miss Wilder.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“And what about your earlier implications? Was that not what you meant?”

“You started it withyourimplication.”

“How you inferred my innocent offer to work around a busy student’s schedule—”

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