My Professor(85)

I focus on the details to keep from becoming too overwhelmed: the perfect way he’s styled his hair, special and fancy for the occasion; the subtle worry he carries on his brow, as if this isn’t easy for him either; the truth so perfectly visible in his clear blue eyes I’m surprised I didn’t see it there before now.

He takes me to one corner of the dance floor and wraps his sturdy arms around me as the familiar opening string instruments lead into Ella James’ low, angelic voice in “At Last”. I glide my hands up until I can link them around his neck.

“Life is like a song,” Ella tells us as Professor Barclay tugs me even closer, hip to hip as we sway gently. My throat squeezes tight as I try to come to grips with the fact that he’s here, holding me.

“Don’t cry,” he tells me, taking one hand off my hip so he can reach up to cradle my face and swipe the tears away with his thumb.

“I’m not,” I promise, though the evidence is damning.

“Emelia.”

“You came all the way here.” My eyebrows scrunch as realization dawns. “How? How did you know where to find me?”

He has the audacity to blush as if he wasn’t already the most charming man on earth. “I was stumped at first, but in your HR file, you listed Sonya as your emergency contact. I had my assistant call her to ask about the wedding you were attending this weekend.” He smiles. “It was convenient, obviously, that she was the one getting married. The rest…worked itself out.”

I laugh at the simplicity of his fairly momentous grand gesture.

“I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Because otherwise you’d be alone on the dance floor?” he quips, trying to get me to smile.

“I’ll have you know, I wouldn’t have been all that lonely. I promised a dance to Sonya’s grandfather.”

He smiles. “I’m sure he’ll come try to collect you at any moment.” His expression suddenly turns serious, even as he continues to tease me. “But I don’t think I can let you go.”

The heady look he gives me is enough to melt any cynic’s heart.

“Prof—”

He squeezes my hip in protest.

“Jonathan,” I amend.

“Say it again.”

I can’t help but smile.

“Jonathan,” I repeat, almost crooning this time, laying it on thick to make him laugh.

With that bit of confidence under my belt, I gift him my honesty. “The truth is, I wanted you to come, but I was too scared to invite you. When I looked up and saw you across the room…it’s the happiest I’ve felt in a long time.”

It’s as bold as I’ve ever been with him. For the last few weeks, I’ve been the one putting up road blocks between us, but he’s here, which means maybe there’s no sense in running anymore.

“I said I wouldn’t force this,” he tells me, “but I feel like I have no choice. There’s no way to avoid me putting my heart on the line. I would have regretted not coming after you. I have to make my feelings known, and if after, you think you’d still be happier with someone else—”

“No,” I say quickly, suddenly needing him to know that.

A beat of silence passes, a moment where our eyes stay locked and my hope for our future hangs on a precipice.

“I’m in love with you.”

He drops the revelation on me like they’re not the five most important words I’ve ever heard.

Love.

Ella would be proud.

I open my mouth, prepared to respond, but then the DJ speaks into the microphone. “Let’s hear it for all the couples on the dance floor! They’ve got the moves, don’t they? Show us what you’ve got out there!”

His encouragement elicits a round of whoops and hollers, and Jonathan delivers with a mischievous smile, taking my hand and gently pushing me out with one hand before twirling me back in with a quick spin and wrapping me up in his arms.

Just as the song is ending, I hear my name shouted and turn to see Sonya rushing over to me in her white gown.

Only now does it dawn on me that, this whole time, she knew Jonathan was going to show up here at her wedding, and she never once hinted at it to me. I’m not mad; I’m impressed.

“I see you found your date,” she says with a wink.

I play my part perfectly. “Sonya, you remember Jonathan.”

“Nice to see you again,” he tells her.

She blushes when she meets his eyes (can’t say I blame her), and then she nods and smiles. “I’m so happy you could make it. I wish I could have seen Emelia’s face when she realized you came here to surprise her.”

“I actually first saw him during my maid of honor speech,” I admit.

Her jaw drops. “You’re kidding! Talk about timing. Jonathan, you have to come meet Wesley!”

Jonathan looks at me, and I nod. From that moment on, we’re at the mercy of the bride.





Chapter Thirty-Two





Emelia



* * *



We don’t talk on the elevator ride up to Jonathan’s suite later that night, but he keeps me close. His hand has a lazy claim on my waist, keeping me pressed against him as other guests step on and off the elevator. When we arrive on the top floor, he leads the way down the hall. After a swipe of his key card, he pushes the door open and holds it ajar for me, but when it closes with a heavy thud, he leaves me standing in the vestibule of the large room as he walks over to the mini bar.