Page 5 of The Professor's Wife

I kept my voice bright. “You’re really good.”

His expression softened. “Thanks.”

“Is that what you do?”

He chuckled. “Hell no. I was just busking.”

My lips parted in surprise. “Really? You’re allowed to do that here?”

“I got the owner’s permission.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

“Yeah.”

“Does it…” I paused, not wanting to sound nosy, though I desperately wanted to know. He waited for me to continue. “Does it pay well?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Sometimes. Depends on how long I play.”

“Were you out there long?”

“Not today.”

I glanced toward the patio. “You finished already?”

“Cut it short.”

“Why? There were a lot of people out there supporting you.”

He still hadn’t touched his beer. He looked down at it for the first time, seeming to reconsider whatever answer had first entered his head. Then he lifted his gaze, giving me a half smile that deepened the dimple in his cheek.

“I saw you.”

Something in my chest tightened.

I held myself steady, refusing to be swept up by something that felt too easy. I wasn’t twenty anymore, ready to believe anything with a pulse and a smile. So I studied him instead—the eyes that didn’t dart away, the slight tension in his fingers around the neck of the bottle, the quiet certainty in his voice.

He had noticed me.

And he wasn’t pretending otherwise.

“You saw me,” I repeated because I didn’t know what else to say.

“I saw you leave, too.” His face softened. “I thought you might be gone by the time I packed up.”

I wanted to tell him that it had been a strong possibility. I had been watching the minutes tick by, trying to choose the best time to get the hell out of there.

“What would that have meant?” I asked, unable to help myself. “What other skirt would you be chasing in my place?”

“I don’t chase skirts.”

He said it plainly, offering nothing else.

I liked that.

I took a sip of my water. “They come to you, you mean.”

His gaze dropped to my hand, quick and instinctive, before returning to my face.