Page 3 of Wild Skies

“Th-thank you,” I whisper, handing back the pen. My stomach knots in anticipation when the professor reaches for it, but sadly, our fingers don’t brush. I’ve gotten this close, but I still haven’t felt the heat of his skin.

Duh.

And I never will. God, this insane daydreaming can’t be good for me. Who am I kidding? I should scratch my name off that list and drop out of this class. I should find someone else to crush on, a guy my own age, and stop pining after the world famous astronomy professor. I should—

A throat clears behind me. Cheeks flaming, I hurry out of the way.

When I reach the door to the lecture hall, I can’t help it. I look back.

And find the professor’s steady gaze on me.

Two

Greg

Present day

It was a huge mistake to bring Maren Olsen on this trip. That became clear three days ago, as all the chosen students filed onto the bus idling outside the campus library. All the others grinned sleepily at me from the center of their neck pillows, or reached out for a lazy fist bump as they turned and climbed up the bus steps. A few of the girls giggled together when I smiled at them, but there was nothing I couldn’t ignore.

Then Maren reached the front of the line, bundled up in a red knitted fisherman’s sweater against the spring chill. Her backpack looked enormous where it balanced against her slender shoulder, and her blonde hair was damp from a shower and combed back into some kind of elaborate braid.

And…Christ.

A single look at her, and my stomach plummeted. My skin grew tight and hot, and my pulse started cantering in my throat.

Maren blushed and smiled up at me.

And a vicious headache began to squeeze my skull.

Oh, I greeted her calmly and waved her onto the bus along with the rest of the students, but I knew right then when we hadn’t even left campus: this was a mistake. A disastrous error of judgment.

Because Maren Olsen makes me want to pound my chest, sling her over my shoulder, and steal her away like a goddamn caveman. To toss away my reputation and career in order to sink between those creamy thighs, rutting away at her like a wild animal. To make hermine.

Yeah. I’m losing my mind—the part of me that has never, ever let me down before. For a supposedly smart man, I’ve set myself one hell of a trap, because I’ve wanted this girl all semester… and now she’s dangerously near.

So now I have eleven more days in close proximity with Maren Olsen. Eleven more days where I need to keep my unacceptable feelings under wraps, and remember that I am a professor while she is a student.

Eleven days of bumping into Maren around our small campsite, and hearing her soft voice laughing and chatting with the others. Eleven nights of knowing that she’s sleeping nearby, possibly shivering in her sleeping bag, our bodies separated by only a few feet and two flimsy tents.

Fuck.

“Hey, Professor Carter? Is this the right camera for tonight?”

Inhaling sharply, I drag my attention back to the present moment. We’re at our campsite partway up the mountain, our brightly colored tents pitched in a loose circle around a central fire pit. A few of the students have gathered around our bus where it’s parked over by the treeline, right before the road turns to dusty, uneven rock. We’re storing the expensive equipment in the vehicle, though God knows any thieves that schlepped all the way up here to steal our gear would have earned it.

“Let me see.”

My hiking boots thud against the packed earth as I stride across the campsite. It’s surreal being around my students in jeans and a flannel shirt, but I suppose it would be even stranger to hike up the mountain each night in a suit and tie.

A young guy called Rex with bushy brown hair that always looks recently electrocuted holds up a camera for me to inspect when I reach their small group. When he switches it on to show me the display, the battery pulses red.

“That’s the one. Don’t forget the tripod, too, and the spare charger packs. We want to get steady shots through the night.”

“Got it.”

The Thelseid meteor shower usually lasts around ten days, and it’s forecast to start tonight. It won’t be anything too bombastic on night one, with the show just getting started, but we’re not gonna miss a single second of it.

“Professor?”

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