9

Wednesday, Gage made sure he got to Paulson’s class five minutes early. Not that he hadn’t been given a subtle warning just a few hours ago. If Paulson brought up being late again… Gage slumped into his chair and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. He was too tired to even come up with a viable threat. He’d gotten a full eight hours on Paulson’s living room floor, but he had a lot of sleep to catch up on. This morning had been better than most though, opening his eyes and trying not to laugh too loud and wake up the professor as Matty covered his face in wet doggy kisses.

Things had been weird with Paulson after that. The man was serious about being professional. He’d made coffee again, asked Gage if he’d ever had a dog, then shut down when Gage wouldn’t—couldn’t—answer.

And he’d told Gage to keep the chemistry textbook. Right before pointedly hinting that Gage should go home and get ready for class. That had been at around five a.m.

Matty looked better, so Gage had left Paulson his number and asked him to call if there was anything he needed to know. Paulson’s receptionist was supposed to stop by and check on her today. Maybe Paulson wouldn’t mind if Gage stopped by after his second class. Chemistry.

Maybe going into the veterinary field wasn’t such a good idea after all. He was failing chemistry and he had no illusions about suddenly getting a grip on the subject matter and catching up. But he had no idea what else to do with his life. He’d wanted to be a marine like his daddy since he was five years old. Being medically discharged had left him with no goals other than to care for animals. If he couldn’t do that…

He had nothing.

I can do this. I have to. He opened his notebook and briefly looked over the assignment from the class he’d missed. One of the other students who’d been stationed with him briefly a few years back, a reserve man, had slipped Gage a copy of all his notes. He didn’t talk to Gage much; he seemed to know Gage didn’t want his pity. But he was doing what he could to make sure Gage didn’t lose what was left of his hope for the future.

Professor Paulson started the class, asking questions, ignoring Gage whenever he lifted his hand with an answer. Gage fisted his hand against his thigh, not sure what Paulson’s problem with him was. He took notes and filled out the assignment. Then lingered after the class ended and the other students filed out.

“If you’ve stayed behind to ask about Matty, she’s doing well.” Paulson stuffed his books into his briefcase, only glancing over at Gage once. “There’s no need for you to come over tomorrow, but stop by on Friday after your afternoon class. If you can.”

“I will.” Gage walked up to Paulson’s desk and stared at the cold, unreadable man. A very different man than the one he’d caught glimpses of while caring for Matty. And maybe that was his fault. He’d pushed a bit just to get a reaction—hadn’t gotten the one he’d wanted. He was used to dealing with both soldiers who were his equals and men who ranked above him. But he couldn’t put Paulson in either category. And maybe he should find a way. So he carefully thought over what to say to clarify where Paulson should fit. “Do you have a problem with me, or is the student thing freaking you out?”

Okay, apparently his mouth wasn’t interested in the careful thing. Fuck!

“I have no issue with your being my student.” Paulson gave Gage a cold smile that clearly said “Go away.”

Gage didn’t budge. “You’re a lot nicer to your other students.”

Paulson snorted. “I’m sorry, Mr. Tackett. I didn’t realize I wasn’t being nice to you. Are you having trouble with the assignments? I can recommend a tutor—”

“I don’t need a tutor for your class, and you know it.” This wasn’t the place for this conversation, but Gage couldn’t let it go. “I like you a lot more when you’re not being a condescending son of a bitch.”