Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“How did I not realize this before now?” I ask in amazement. A slow smile curls my lips. “Dr. Van wants to be bad.”
She wants one-night stands and wild sex. And orgasms, apparently.
Ho-ly fuck.
Images of her in that fucking bra and panties, standing in front of me with her baby-blue eyes, flash through my brain. Instantly, my cock is swollen and begging for attention. Begging for her.
Gray might be wrong when he says she’s not my type, but he’s also right when he says she’s too good for me. I’d love nothing more than to fuck the shit out of Audrey and give her everything she wants tenfold.
But then what? Just use her for my gratification and then leave her in the dust?
I wince as an invisible belt wraps around my chest.
“Forget it, Dempsey. Don’t lose your head about this,” I say, setting the tea on the counter. Otis knocks it over immediately.
Damn cat.
Damn self-discipline even more.
CHAPTER
NINE
Audrey
“It was really no problem, Tyler,” I say, smiling at my student on the computer screen. “Next week, try to focus on developing more conceptual depth in your argument. You moved too quickly to evaluation without first explaining the framework.”
He takes off his glasses and sighs. The toll of this program shows on his face. “You’re right, Dr. Van. Thank you for looking this over and giving me feedback.”
“Of course. Do you have any other questions for me?”
“No. That’s it.”
Thank God because the toll of this program is wearing on me, too. “Great. My inbox is open if anything pops up. Have a good weekend.”
“You, too.”
He exits the online chat room before I can close it—which is fine by me. After dissecting ten philosophy papers over the past eight hours, I’m cooked. I don’t want to hear anything else about methodological doubt for a very long time.
I stretch my arms overhead and yawn.
Philosophy used to fascinate me. I loved nothing more than debating with other like-minded individuals over concepts that have been argued for thousands of years. It felt important. I spent my days dissecting life’s biggest questions and studying how philosophy shapes nearly every other field in academia.
But now? I don’t really care.
And I hate that. I hate that I’ve lost the passion for something that I’ve dedicated so much of my life to. I’ve fought it, wrestled with it. I’ve tried to tell myself I’m just depressed or bored or that the love of academia will return … but it hasn’t. And, at some point, I had to face reality.
I need a change. But where do I go from here?
My body is tight from sitting all day, so I stand and do a few stretches. I’m ten squats in when my phone rings. I glance down and see Astrid’s name on the screen. It’s an instant boost of happiness.
“Hey,” I say. She’s called a few times since I’ve been here, and we’ve texted consistently, but I miss her. “What’s going on?”
“Hey, you. How’s cabin life?”
I glance around, taking in the place that’s starting to feel like home, before sitting at the table. “I still love it. I might just stay here, and you and Gray can stay in Nashville.”
She laughs. “I might be okay with that, but I think Gray would fight you.”
I laugh, too. That’s a fight I could never win. “What’s happening back there?”
“Gray’s been at the Royals facility every day, so I’ve been trying to stay busy. Renn asked me how I would feel about helping Tate and Aurora for a while.”
“Tate, huh?” I giggle. “Your very favorite Brewer brother.”
“Ha.”
I giggle louder.
“He’s better now that he has Aurora. She makes him behave,” Astrid says. “Well, as much as Tate can behave. But I told Renn I’d do it because it’s something to do and, quite frankly, I love organizing shit and keeping schedules. And this house they’re building? There’s a lot of organizing and scheduling to be done.”
“Sounds right up your alley.”
“You know it. So what’s up with you? How are you filling your time?”
I try to remember how I’ve spent the days here, but it’s fuzzy. I sleep in, which is nice. I wander around the pasture behind the cabin, which is fun. I’ve had lunch twice at Piper’s Pizza like a solo-dining professional. And I performed surgery …
A smile stretches across my face immediately as I recall a few days ago when Brooks was here. I’ve wondered how well it’s healing, or if he needs antibiotics, but I have no way of contacting him. Even if I did, I’m not sure I would. But that’s because of the whimsy list.
“What is a whimsy list?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“It’s fascinating …”
“Oh, I’ve been wandering around the ranch,” I say, starting my computer. “I’ve had lunch at Piper’s. Lisa loves you. I got an extra piece of chocolate cake yesterday because of you.”