“Good. When you’re done, I’d like to hear your impressions.”
“Oh, you will. You will.” Her cunning glance slid over Shelley, who was treated to a chilly evaluation. “See ya,” she said as she followed her friends into Hal’s.
They had walked half a block down the bookstore-lined sidewalk before Grant said lightly, “No comments?”
“On what?” she asked breezily.
“On the dedication of some students.”
She looked up at him scoffingly. “I’m sure Miss Zimmerman is dedicated to many things, but I doubt that scholastics is one of them.”
He laughed, taking her arm and leading her across the street. “Where are you parked?”
“I’m not. I walked to campus today.”
“Commendable. Which way?”
The safest, wisest, easiest thing to do would be to part company here and now. Shelley Robins always did the safest, wisest, easiest thing. She paused on the sidewalk and faced him. “Thank you, but I can go the rest of the way alone.”
“No doubt. But I want to come with you.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“It’s better if you don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a teacher and I’m your student,” she said, dangerously close to tears for reasons she couldn’t name.
“As we were before. Is that what’s bothering you?”
“I guess so. Yes.”
“With one vital difference, Shelley. This time we’re both mature adults.”
She hedged, gnawing her bottom lip.
Taking advantage of her indecision, he pressed his point. “Believe me, the last thing I need in my life is a scandal. I wouldn’t do anything to compromise either of us.”
“That’s why we shouldn’t be seen together off campus at all.” His position at the university was shaky at best. Why would he jeopardize it? Along with his problems, she had to analyze what his being in her life again would mean to her.
No. She couldn’t become entrapped again. She’d have to bring things to a screeching halt now. Why she had ever let him talk about that kiss ten years ago, she couldn’t fathom, but …
“I need a friend, Shelley.”
Her head snapped up to see the lines engraved on either side of his mouth and the deep furrow between his brows. He had suffered. He had known untold trouble. Had he made a romantic appeal, she would have rebuffed it. Probably. Maybe.
But that simple, pitiable request for friendship couldn’t be denied. He was something of a celebrity, yes. But he was also a victim of his own notoriety. Someone of his caliber didn’t inspire friendship in ordinary people who lived mundane lives. It was inverted snobbery. The fact of the matter was—he was lonely.
She looked up into the alluring, knowing eyes and saw a hint of insecurity. “All right,” she agreed softly and began walking again.
He matched his stride to hers. “What are you majoring in?”
“Banking.”
He stopped in his tracks. “Banking?”