Page 66 of None Of Your Business

“I wasn’t trying to seduce you.”

“Please. Look at you in your knit sweater and glasses. I know what you’re doing, Dr. Vaughn.”

His mouth pulls at the corner.

When I finally sit, I need to hold back a groan because my ass is sitting on a cloud.

Oh, he bought the expensive stuff.

Show off.

“Better?” he asks.

“No.” He looks over at me and arches an eyebrow, seeing right through my bullshit. “Maybe.”

“Thought so.”

Through the glass, the group room looks bigger than it does from the inside.

“Can they see us?” I ask, leaning toward the pane.

“No.”

I wave both hands.

“Rowan,” he warns.

“You just said they can’t see me.”

“That’s not the point.”

I give Howard the finger anyway.

“Are you five?” Hudson scolds.

“Howard won’t mind. He probably wouldn’t even notice if he could see me. Have you heard how many anniversaries he’s forgotten?”

Hudson looks over at me, tilting his head. “What is your problem with Howard, anyway?”

“My problem isn’t with that Howard,” I tell him, tapping my chin with my pencil. “My first boyfriend’s name was Howard. His mother used to call him Howie.”

Hudson blinks, looking entirely unimpressed by my story. “I still don’t see a problem.”

“One day in class,” I continue, “he got a papercut and said, ‘Howie got an owie.’”

Hudson’s jaw goes slack.

“You see?” I nod solemnly. “I was scarred for life. Now every time Dr. Webb says the name Howard, I get second-hand embarrassment.”

“Howie… got an owie?”

“Yep.”

“On a professional level, I now understand your aversion to relationships.”

“Exactly.”

He looks down at his notes and rubs his temple. “Howie got an owie,” he mutters under his breath.