Bearly Passing: Saylor and Ryan (3 page)

"Then why did you tell me?"

"I thought you'd be worried about who was in the woods!" She said, harsher than she intended. "I didn't know what to do, I wanted to wait until you went away, but I made a noise and I thought you might have seen me. I had to tell you it was me and that I don't care. I'm not going to tell anyone."

The man sighed, running a hand across his face.

"I knew this would happen eventually. I was careless, I shouldn't have been out the same night I assigned the class to do field work. It was foolish."

"The class won't care!" Saylor said. "We love you! We don't mind."

Professor Paulson dropped his hand and quirked an eyebrow at her. Saylor felt heat rush to her cheeks.

"You're a great teacher," she said, hoping he didn't misinterpret her words. Unfortunately, from the smirk on his face, he clearly had.

"Thank you," he said, leaning back. He wore a charcoal sweater today, no tie, white dress shirt underneath. The sleeves were rolled up, exposing tan, muscular forearms. Saylor licked her lips, remembering his soaking wet, naked body last night. She wondered if his skin was as soft and warm as it looked.

"I appreciate you keeping quiet about this," he continued, "but I am sorry you have to bear this secret. Officially, the university has no problem with shifters on staff. Unofficially, there is no way they would be ready to accept me. Even if I was tenured – and that's decades off – they would try to find some way to oust me."

"Do you really think so?" Saylor asked, "I thought our campus was a bit more progressive than that."

"You students, of course," he smiled at her and Saylor couldn't help but smile back. "The dean isn't as accepting, I'm afraid. I could make a case against him if this got out, but that would take a lot of time and resources."

"You never know," said Saylor, "you might become the poster boy for diversity here at NMU."

He rolled back his head and let out a roar of laughter. Saylor laughed with him, her light giggle meeting his deep voice in harmony. When he finished laughing, Ryan ran a hand through his hair and grinned at her. He was so boyish, sharp cheekbones, chiseled jaw, brilliant smile. He was like a lumberjack on an ad for men's deodorant.

"That would be too good," he said, still chuckling, "My job would be secure if that happened. But I thank you for your secrecy in this matter."

Saylor sat for a moment.
That's it? That's all he was going to do?

"I also had a question about the assignment," Saylor blurted, before she knew quite what she was saying. "With all the excitement last night, I, uh, I didn't see all the constellations on the list. I got turned around in the woods, and I don't have any friends in class to go with me."

The Ryan nodded, "I know, with big lectures it's hard to make friends. So many people, but no one wants to talk to each other. I had the same problem."

"Do you think you could help me?" Saylor asked.

The professor smirked at her again. "You mean go with you?"

Saylor blushed, was that what she meant?

"Yes," she said. "You clearly know the woods better than me, and the material, I was hoping... unless that crosses boundaries... or..."

"I'll help you," he said, his voice low. "It's field work, not a date."

His gaze was intense, pulling at her. When he said "date," Saylor could have sworn she heard extra emphasis on the word. Like she was supposed to read between the lines. Was it a date? Had she asked him out?  

"Great," said Saylor, cursing her lack of eloquence around the professor. She knew so many words and all she could think to say was "great?"

"Should I meet you here?" she asked, gesturing vaguely around his office.

Professor Paulson nodded, "Sure, that'll work. Let's meet at ten, I'll leave the building open for you. It will be dark enough then."

"Okay," Saylor said, standing up. "I'll see you tonight."

The professor was already looking at his papers as she walked toward the door. When she turned, she did her best to mimic the way Jasmine walked, moving her hips in a way that drew attention to her toned ass. She was no Kim Kardashian, but she had a tight, round, bubble butt. These jeans looked great on her.

When she turned the corner, she caught Professor Ryan staring at her over his paperwork. She beamed.

"
The trick is," said Professor Ryan, "that you find Polaris when you're lost. You'll always know where north is if you can find the North Star. If you can do that, you'll never be truly lost again."

"Mmmhmmm," said Saylor.

She paid little attention to what Professor Ryan was saying. He distracted her in his, actually, pretty stylish clothing. Instead of too tight khakis and sweater, he wore dark jeans, black hiking boots, and a loose flannel shirt. He had buttoned the shirt three-quarters of the way up so Saylor could see a few curls of his chest hair poking out of the top of the buttons. He hadn't shaved, and Saylor could see dark stubble growing around his jaw. He was very "mountain man." She was smitten.

Saylor wore a similar outfit, the same dark jeans she wore earlier. If that man stared at her ass once, she was going to work hard to make it happen again. She borrowed one of Jasmine's flannels, blue and black checked. It clung to her waist, giving the appearance of an hourglass figure. She wore a black tank under the shirt and let the buttons of her breasts remain open, drawing attention to her cleavage.

"What trouble did you have last night?" he asked, pulling Saylor out of her reverie.

"I couldn't find a good clearing," she lied.

The professor nodded and started walking. Saylor followed.

"I like to stand by the lake when I go star gazing," he explained. "It's a little brighter there, but it gives me the best big-picture view of the sky."

He looked back and grinned at her, "I'll take you to my favorite spot."

They walked in silence for a few moments, listening to the wind rustle the leaves and owls hoot. Saylor breathed in, savoring the smell of the forest. She felt so much safer tonight, happy to have such a knowledgeable guide.

Yet, she was still not built for the woods. Saylor caught her foot on a root and stumbled. The professor caught her hand and helped her catch her footing.

"Thank you, professor," she said. His hand was soft and warm in hers. His skin was smooth, palms callused. She resisted the urge to twine her fingers with his.

"You can call me Ryan," he said, voice soft in the dark of night. "I think you know me better than most of my colleagues after yesterday."

Saylor flushed, hoping he couldn't tell in the night.

"Okay, Ryan."

He laughed and gave her hand a squeeze.

"You're cute," he said, helping her around the roots. When she was on stable ground, he cleared his throat and dropped her hand, realizing what he said.

"Maybe this will help," he pulled a flashlight out of his back pocket. "I don't endorse using a flashlight for star gazing because your eyes don't adjust to the dark. But this will help us get safely to the shore."

They picked their way through the woods. When they crossed the tree-line, a cool breeze hit Saylor, mussing her hair. Ryan looked over and laughed. She pulled a face at him.

"You can't laugh at me if your short hair doesn't get accosted by the wind! You can't judge."

Ryan reached forward, brushing hair out of her face. Saylor tilted her head, reveling in the feeling of his fingers against her cheek.

"Come on," he said, "My spot is up ahead. Do you see that bluff? It's up there. I'll help you climb it."

"It's so different up here," said Saylor, taking in the view from the top of the bluff. The wind churned up small waves from the surface of the lake. The white caps danced across the water, blending in the with reflection of the stars.

"I know it's silly, but the height makes me feel closer to the stars," said Ryan, rubbing the back of his head. Saylor snuck a peek, the man looked up at the stars, almost in awe. She smiled, to be this enraptured by the heavens after studying them for years, that was something special.

"You are passionate about astronomy," said Saylor.

Ryan looked at her, his green eyes almost luminous in the dark. Saylor couldn't look away, he was gorgeous.

"My mom would always point out constellations when I was growing up, you don't really grow out of memories like that."

Saylor nodded, "My dad would read to me, that's why I'm studying literature. We shared a love of stories."

Ryan smiled, "I didn't know you were an English major. What's your favorite book?"

Saylor rolled her eyes, shoving her hands in her pockets. "Everyone asks you that when they find out you're studying literature. It's so annoying! You have to think of a good answer so they find you literary, but it's almost never your real favorite book."

Ryan quirked an eyebrow. "What is your literary answer?"

"'The Great Gatsby.'"

"And your real answer?"

Saylor brushed back her hair, "'Wicked.'"

"That's a good book! Very literary."

She shook her head, "No, people want you to pick a book that is more than fifty years old. It's weird."

"Well," said Ryan, "I won't tell anyone your secret either." 

Saylor couldn't remember the last time she smiled this much. Her cheeks were going to hurt.

"I should probably work on the assignment," she said, reaching into her pocket for her phone. "My professor will definitely know if I don't get my work done today."

Ryan nodded, mock seriously, "I've heard your professor is very strict."

Saylor leaned back, angling her phone up toward Scorpius, "Oh yes, he's the worst. Assigned us homework that takes all night. I can't believe anyone stays in his class."

She felt warm when Ryan's laugh hit her ears. She loved that she was able to make such a beautiful man laugh. She snapped a few pictures of the sky and was struck by how small she truly was in the universe. How strange it was that she and Ryan ended up on the same planet, in the same country, the same state, the same city, the same university, the same class. It felt fated.

This realization made her dizzy. Then it made her stumble.
Shit, how close was she to the edge?i

Saylor answered this question as she felt her foot slip off the side of the bluff. She was going to die. She worked so hard for this stupid university and now she was going to die without even getting a degree.

"Saylor!"

There was an arm around her waist. A strong, warm, masculine arm. Ryan pulled Saylor into him, stepping away from the edge. Saylor buried her face in Ryans chest, hiding from the embarrassment and the certainty of death.

He smelled like fire wood. Fire wood and pine trees. She breathed him in, savoring their closeness. He was so solid. Her mother would say he was 'built to last,' reliable like the forest.

"Thank you," she said into his chest.

He pulled his arms around her, holding her closer. She let him feel her in a way she never let any man, allowing him full access to all the curves and lumps of her extra large body. She felt safe.

"I wasn't going to let you fall off the bluff," he said into the top of her hair. She could feel his breath against her forehead, hot and damp. She closed her eyes, imagining how his mouth would feel against hers. Her pulse quickened, a familiar heat building in her veins. Was he feeling this too?

She looked up, their mouths barely apart. If she moved a hair's breadth they would be kissing.

He stared down at her through eyelashes too full to be allowed on a man. He had to be thinking this too. Their breathing matched, every inhale and exhale taken together. Saylor tilted her head, ready to take the step that would change their relationship.

Ryan pulled back.

The wind filled in where his body had been pressed against Saylor. She shivered, wrapping her arms around her stomach.

"Sorry," said Ryan, turning away, "I am still your teacher. We shouldn't... I shouldn't..."

He trailed off and they stood in uncomfortable silence for a few moments.

"Hey," he said, "let's go down to the beach? The chance of death decreases the closer we are to the beach."

"Is that a fact?" said Saylor, twisting her mouth into a small smile. She was not going to let what happened ruin the rest of her night.

"You can trust me," said Ryan with a wink, "I'm a scientist."

T
hey walked to the water's edge, water lapping just in front of their feet. It was cooler here, closer to the water. Saylor drew her arms around her and thought wistfully about the violet sweater she left behind. Even in the spring it was cold just before midnight.

Ryan gestured to a spot a little further up the beach.

"Let's sit for a minute."

Saylor sank into the sand next to him, it was impossible to sit gracefully in the sand. The beach was cool and slightly damp. Saylor stretched her legs in front of her and Ryan leaned forward on his knees. His hair was windblown and his nose was tinged pink from the chill. She wanted to lick it.

"See there?" Ryan pointed.

Saylor followed his gaze to the sky. A constellation hung in the night sky, directly above them.

"Ursa Major," she said, "The Big Bear. That one I can remember."

"And there?"

"Ursa Minor. The Little Bear."

Ryan nodded, his pink lips turning up at the corners.

"You're lucky you never had to grow up as a shifter," he said, his voice heavy. "It got easier in 2009, but it still sucks. There is a lot of prejudice in this world you might never have to deal with. People feel they can't trust you. That you aren't in control of your emotions or your body. That you will try to turn them or hurt them. It's all bullshit."

"Can't you turn people into weres?" Saylor asked. "By biting them or something."

Ryan shook his head. "No, that was a rumor started to keep people afraid of us. You're either born a shifter or you're not. There are more of us now because shifters and humans have children together. My dad is a human, my mom was a shifter."

Ryan leaned back, laying completely on the sand. Saylor followed suit. The sky unfolded above them, pinpricks of light looking down on the earth.