“I have to tell you something not related to Nadine.”

“Do you want me to listen as your lawyer or as your friend?”

“Both.”

“Ah shit. What did you do now, Alistair?”

I let out a long sigh, thrusting my hand in my hair. Shit, I can’t believe Chiara is my student. My fucking student. I’m so screwed.

When I don’t answer Enzo right away, he continues. “Your silence is making the lawyer side of me very nervous.”

Not wanting him to start charging me for this call, I blurt, “I slept with one of my students.”

“You did what?” Enzo screams so loudly, I have to pull the cell phone away from my ear.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I met her in Tuscany. We spent the weekend together. She wasn’t a student when we hooked up.”

“But let me guess, she’s a student now? In what class?”

I hesitate again. Shit, Enzo is going to love this. “Writer’s room.”

There’s a moment of silence before he bursts out laughing. I wait a few seconds before I cut him off. “Are you done?”

“Sorry, man. But you have to see the irony in this.”

“Yes, the irony is killing me. What the fuck do I do?”

“First, let’s clear something up. How old was she when you fucked her?”

I sigh loudly. “I didn’t know then. We didn’t exchange personal information save for our names, but that was the first thing I checked after she walked into my classroom. She was legal.”

“Thank fuck. But hell, Alistair. How can you be so fucking stupid?”

Enzo is not wrong. I wasn’t thinking and completely let my attraction to Chiara take over everything. I had gone to Italy to forget all my problems, after all.

“She looked and acted older,” I reply defensively. “I thought she was in her twenties.”

“Well, technically, you did nothing wrong. You didn’t break any rules. Can the girl keep her mouth shut?”

Anger surges out of nowhere. I don’t like hearing Enzo speak about Chiara with such a condescending tone. “Trust me. She wants nothing to do with me. I’m sure she’ll have a boyfriend by the end of the week.”

“Hmm, and does that bother you?”

“Of course not. She’s a student and therefore off-limits.”

“And if she wasn’t?”

I open my mouth to reply but pause for a moment. The truth hits me then. If Chiara wasn’t my student, I would go after her with everything I have, mindless of Nadine and the ongoing divorce.

“Hello, Alistair? You still there?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t answer my question, but never mind. Your silence says it all.”

I let out a heavy exhale. “What the hell do I do, Enzo?”

“You know what I would tell you as your lawyer, but as your friend? I say stay the fuck away from her. You can’t afford that kind of rumor spreading around. That would give Nadine all the ammunition she needs to clean out your bank account.”

Don’t I know that? But staying away from Chiara will be a nightmare.

This semester is going to hurt like a mother.

16

Chiara

Robbie and Harold took me home after Alistair’s class, and Harold apologized a million times for the mishap. He’d packed the special brownie by accident. He seemed sincere, and I already have too many problems in my life to hold a grudge against the guy.

Once at home, I crashed, which meant fewer hours to worry about the sudden reappearance of Alistair in my life. But this morning, my chest felt heavy, yearning for someone I can’t have. Pretending everything is fine while I navigate my second day at DuBose is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I keep looking over my shoulder, expecting to see Alistair at a moment’s notice.

I have lunch with Robbie again, but no Harold or Valerie, the other girl in the drama program.

“I still can’t believe you ate one of Harold’s magic brownies.” Robbie shakes his head. “You have to write a comedy screenplay with that scene.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t funny.”

“At least you didn’t get caught by Mr. Greene.”

I frown. “Who?”

“Jesus, you were high. Mr. Greene, your writer’s room teacher.”

“That’s not my teacher. I got Alistair.”

Robbie gives me a strange look, and it takes me a second to realize my mistake. “I mean Mr. Walsh.”

His green eyes bulge out of his skull. “Shut up! You got Alistair Walsh? Oh my God. I can’t believe it. I thought he wasn’t teaching that class this semester. That’s why I didn’t sign up.”

My stomach coils tightly. I should change the subject before I have another slipup. But my tongue has a will of its own.

“What’s so special about him?”

“Uh, hello? First of all, the man is an Adonis. I’d so do him if he wasn’t straight.”

My face heats as I remember my time in Alistair’s bed.

“He’s okay,” I reply.