Page 145 of Stranger to Love

But now, the bubble was gone. I was heading in early—I needed to get into the classroom before the rest of the herd arrived.

I got to the seminar room twenty minutes before the Economics session started, and for once, the universe was on my side: the room was empty. I quickly opened my bag and pulled out the single red rose I had been shielding like fine china all morning. My heart thumped against my ribs as I placed it right in the centre of Dr. Carter’s desk. I didn't linger; I bolted back out the door, taking a lap around the building to burn off the adrenaline.

When I finally walked back in, the room was starting to fill. I spotted Holly at our usual table and felt a wave of normalcy hit me. "Hey, sweetheart," I said, tossing my bag down.

“Alex!” Holly beamed, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug, immediately rattling off questions about my break. Before I could even formulate a lie about how quiet my holidays were, Mo and Abdul joined us, regaling us with the chaos of their New Year’s celebrations.

I nodded and laughed in all the right places, but my ears were tuned to the hallway.

Right on time, the room fell into that peculiar, respectful hush. The chatter died down as the rhythmic, sharp click-clack of high heels echoed down the corridor. It was a sound that usually commanded fear in this department, but for me, it made my stomach do a slow, dizzying flip.

The door swung open.

Dr. Carter walked in, the very picture of icy, academic authority in a tailored charcoal suit. She didn't look at the class. She didn't look at me. She walked straight to her desk, her movements fluid and professional.

She stopped.

Her eyes dropped to the rose. For a fraction of a second—so fast that if I weren't staring I would have missed it—her composure faltered. Her hand hovered over the desk, her fingers twitching as if she wanted to reach out and touch the petals. A tiny, secret curve tugged at the corner of her mouth before she remembered where she was.

So worth it.

She looked up, her gaze sweeping over the sea of students. When her eyes found mine, they weren't the eyes of a lecturer. They were dark, burning, and heavy with a restraint that made my pulse skip.

"Good morning, everyone," she said, her voice smooth and clinical. "I hope your break was... restorative. Let’s begin."

Dr. Carter began her rounds, checking in on last term’s results. When she reached our table, my pulse became a riot. She spoke to Holly first, her voice hushed and encouraging, while I stared intensely at my notebook.

Then, she shifted. The air beside me grew heavy.

"Alex," she said.

Her voice was perfectly professional—crisp, academic, and entirely devoid of the "darling" that usually melted my spine. But as she leaned slightly over the table to look at my notes, the heat radiating from her was unmistakable.

"Your submissions for both modules were exemplary. Two Firsts. You’ve set a high bar for yourself this term. See that you maintain that discipline.”

I felt a surge of genuine pride, followed immediately by the smug realisation that I had also bagged the most incredible, lethal woman in the building.

"Thank you, Dr. Carter," I managed to say, my voice steady.

She lingered a heartbeat longer than necessary. Her hand rested briefly on the edge of the table, her index finger tapping once—a rhythmic signal meant only for me. It was a silent acknowledgment of the flower, the weekend, and the fact that she knew exactly what I was thinking.

"Keep up the work," she added, her eyes flicking to mine. For a split second, the cold mask slipped, revealing the fire beneath. Then she turned and moved to Mo, leaving me breathless in her wake.

When the seminar finally wound to a close, I kept my professional distance, packing my bag with efficiency. But as I reached the door, I looked back. Our eyes locked. As if sensing my gaze, she reached out, her long finger tracing the velvet edge of a rose petal with a slow, deliberate tenderness.

It was a promise, and I carried the heat of it all the way to the library.

I practically floated through the stacks, snagging a private work booth in the corner. I logged into the student portal to map out my deadlines for Economics, International Business, and Business Management.

Then, I saw it. I clicked into the results tab for my other modules. My breath hitched. Firsts. Every single one of them. A clean sweep of top marks across the board.

The realisation hit me like a physical weight. I really was not just a pretty little thing on Dr. Carter's arm, and I was not just a girl from a council estate trying to keep the lights on. I was actually, undeniably, brilliant. For the first time, the "gilded pond" Mia had mentioned didn't feel like something I was drowning in—it felt like something I had earned the right to swim in.

I leaned back in the booth, a triumphant grin spreading across my face. I wanted to text Carrie. I wanted to run back to her office. But instead, I opened a blank document and started typing. Discipline, she had said. I would show her exactly how disciplined I could be.

I was highlighting references when a sharp knock on the glass door nearly made me jump out of my skin.

I turned to see a face I had almost managed to scrub from my memory. Billie opened the door with a soft, hesitant smile. I raised an eyebrow, watching her slide onto the bench opposite me, the small booth instantly filling with the floral scent of her perfume.