CHAPTER 12: NOTICING

Alora couldn’t stop thinking about the car.

It was ridiculous.

Entirely ridiculous.

Yet three days later she was still thinking about it.

Not obsessively.

Not constantly.

Just enough to annoy herself.

Because why would Professor Reid be parked outside her dorm?

Maybe he’d been visiting someone.

Maybe he’d been meeting another professor.

Maybe she’d imagined it.

The last possibility felt unlikely.

Unfortunately.

“You’re doing it again.”

Alora looked up from her notebook.

Cassie was staring at her.

“What?”

“The thinking thing.”

“I don’t do a thinking thing.”

“You absolutely do.”

Alora groaned.

Not Daniel too.

Apparently everyone had decided she possessed facial expressions she wasn’t aware of.

Cassie leaned forward.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“Lie.”

“Nothing.”

“Professor Reid?”

Alora nearly dropped her pen.

“What?!”

Cassie pointed triumphantly.

“Aha.”

“Oh my God.”

“I’m right.”

“No.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

Alora threw a crumpled piece of paper at her.

Cassie laughed.

The library remained quiet around them.

Most students were buried beneath textbooks and caffeine.

Midterm season.

Nobody looked happy.

Including Alora.

Especially because today’s schedule included Professor Reid’s class.

Which was never a pleasant experience.

“Come on.”

Cassie stood.

“We’re late.”

Alora sighed.

They packed their things and headed toward the lecture hall.

The room was already half full when they arrived.

Students shuffled into seats.

Conversations buzzed softly.

Then the door opened.

And everything went quiet.

Professor Reid entered.

Like always.

Without effort.

Without greeting.

Without acknowledging anyone.

The silence simply followed him.

He placed his files on the desk.

Adjusted his watch.

Looked across the room.

For one brief moment his eyes landed on Alora.

Then moved away.

Nothing unusual.

Nothing strange.

Nothing at all.

Yet somehow she felt seen.

The realization irritated her.

The lecture began.

Two hours passed.

Then three.

Medical students slowly lost the will to live.

Normal.

Professor Reid continued speaking.

Also normal.

Then—

“Miss Alvarez.”

Alora immediately sat straighter.

Of course.

Of course it was her.

“Yes, Professor?”

He asked a question.

She answered.

Correctly.

A few students glanced her way.

Professor Reid nodded once.

Then continued.

The class moved on.

Everything should have ended there.

Instead—

Ten minutes later—

She felt it.

That strange feeling.

The one everyone recognized.

Being watched.

Alora frowned.

Looked up.

And froze.

Professor Reid was looking directly at her.

Not her notebook.

Not the students nearby.

Her.

The moment lasted less than a second.

Then he continued teaching.

Like nothing had happened.

Weird.

Very weird.

The lecture finally ended.

Students immediately scrambled toward freedom.

Alora gathered her books.

Cassie was already halfway out the door.

Traitor.

By the time Alora stepped into the hallway, most people were gone.

Perfect.

She adjusted the strap of her bag and started walking.

“Miss Alvarez.”

Her stomach dropped.

No.

Absolutely not.

She turned.

Professor Reid stood several feet away.

Expression unreadable.

As usual.

“Professor.”

“I need a moment.”

Of course he did.

She followed him back toward the classroom.

The door remained open.

Nothing inappropriate.

Nothing secretive.

Just another conversation.

Yet her pulse somehow sped up anyway.

“Your assignment.”

He handed her a paper.

The one from earlier.

Covered in red ink.

Enough red ink to suggest he’d personally declared war on it.

Alora stared.

“That’s excessive.”

His eyebrow lifted.

“The corrections?”

“The violence.”

A pause.

Then—

The faintest hint of amusement.

Gone almost immediately.

“Review them.”

“I planned to.”

“Good.”

Silence settled.

Awkward.

Again.

Then she noticed his gaze shift.

Briefly.

Toward her wrist.

She followed it automatically.

The bruise.

Right.

She’d forgotten about it.

A purple mark stretched along the inside of her wrist.

Nothing serious.

Just ugly.

Professor Reid frowned slightly.

The expression appeared so quickly she almost missed it.

Almost.

Then—

“Where did you get that bruise?”

The question caught her completely off guard.

“What?”

“The bruise.”

Alora stared.

Of all the things he could have asked—

That?

She looked down.

“Oh.”

His eyes remained fixed on it.

Waiting.

For some reason.

Actually waiting.

“I walked into a door.”

Silence.

Professor Reid continued staring.

She laughed awkwardly.

“What?”

“A door.”

“Yes.”

“You walked into it.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t see it.”

“Professor.”

His jaw tightened slightly.

“You should pay more attention.”

Alora blinked.

Was he serious?

“To doors?”

“To your surroundings.”

The answer arrived immediately.

Too immediately.

Like he’d already been thinking about it.

A strange sensation crawled down her spine.

Because suddenly this conversation didn’t feel like a professor speaking to a student.

It felt—

Different.

Not inappropriate.

Just…

Personal.

A little too personal.

Alora folded her arms.

“Thank you for your concern.”

The words carried more sarcasm than intended.

Professor Reid noticed.

Obviously.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Then—

Unexpectedly—

He nodded.

“As long as you’re fine.”

The statement hit her strangely.

Simple.

Ordinary.

Yet completely unexpected.

Because concern wasn’t something she associated with Dominic Reid.

Criticism?

Absolutely.

Concern?

Not so much.

For a moment neither moved.

Neither spoke.

Then voices echoed down the hallway.

Other students.

The spell shattered instantly.

Professor Reid stepped back.

Expression returning to normal.

Cold.

Professional.

Untouchable.

“There are additional journal articles attached to your assignment.”

Alora blinked.

“What?”

“Read them.”

She glanced down.

Sure enough.

Several extra pages sat clipped to the back.

Research articles.

Advanced ones.

Articles he definitely hadn’t given anybody else.

Her confusion must have shown.

Because he simply said—

“You can do better.”

Then turned away.

Just like that.

Conversation over.

Alora remained standing there.

Completely bewildered.

A minute later she finally left.

Walking slowly down the corridor.

Trying to make sense of the interaction.

The bruise.

The articles.

The questions.

The way he’d looked at her.

Nothing fit together.

Nothing made sense.

And yet—

For the rest of the afternoon—

She couldn’t stop thinking about it.

⸻

That evening.

Dominic sat alone in his office.

A stack of papers rested on his desk.

None of which he was reading.

His thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Against his better judgment.

Again.

He remembered the bruise.

The shape of it.

The location.

The fact that she had laughed when she explained it.

He didn’t know why it bothered him.

Only that it did.

A knock sounded at the door.

Finally.

A distraction.

“Come in.”

The door opened.

One of the senior faculty members stepped inside.

“Dominic.”

“What is it?”

The older man dropped a file onto the desk.

“You forgot this.”

Dominic glanced down.

Then frowned.

Because the file wasn’t his.

It belonged to one of his students.

Alora Alvarez.

He stared at it.

Annoyed.

Mostly with himself.

The older professor noticed immediately.

A knowing smile tugged at his mouth.

“Interesting.”

Dominic’s eyes lifted.

“What is?”

“Nothing.”

The professor turned and walked away.

Still smiling.

Leaving Dominic staring at the file.

And wondering why he’d noticed a bruise that nobody else in class had even seen.