Chapter 14 Sep 17, 2025 The week drifted by on the memory of that rooftop evening, each day softer than the last. I felt that Alex and I were finally tilting toward better, that the careful romance he'd orchestrated meant we'd found our rhythm again. The glow of that night settled into small rituals-shared coffees, a hand finding mine under the library table, an ease I didn't dare interrogate. I let the routine carry me-right up until the sky turned mean. When Thursday's weather turned vicious-wind needling through the trees, rain threatening at dawn-I traded my morning run for the campus pool. The chlorine hit me before I even pushed through the doors. Early swimmers populated every lane, all nursing the same student exhaustion that came from too many deadlines colliding at once. I was adjusting my goggles when I spotted them in the far lane-Aiden cutting through the water with mechanical precision, another man keeping pace beside him. They surfaced at the wall, and I found myself walking over before my brain could veto the decision. "Ruby." Aiden pushed his goggles up, water running down his face in rivulets that I absolutely didn't track with my eyes. "You swim here?" "When the weather makes running feel like punishment," I said, then noticed his companion watching with obvious interest. "I didn't know you swam." "Old habits from baseball conditioning. This is James-my grad student and friend. We were teammates back in the day." Aiden gestured to the man beside him, who offered a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "James, this is Ruby Pearson. She's in my Strategic Management course." "The one who asks all the dangerous questions," James said, his grin widening. "Aiden's mentioned you. Says you keep him on his toes during lectures." "Someone has to challenge his theories," I replied, falling into the polite, well-mannered version of myself that had been drilled into me since childhood. "Otherwise he gets too comfortable behind that podium." Then Aiden pulled himself up on the pool edge to adjust his goggles properly, and that carefully constructed version of me evaporated. Water slicked down his torso, highlighting every line of muscle I'd only felt through clothing. The swim trunks sat low on his hips, and I realized with crystal clarity that I was staring. Both men were smiling-James with cheerful obliviousness, Aiden with that concentrated amusement that suggested he knew exactly what his half-naked presence was doing to my composure. "You two must have morning routines down to a science," I managed, forcing my eyes to stay on their faces. "Very disciplined." "We try to get here before the undergrad rush," James said, stretching his shoulders in a way that would have been impressive if I could focus on anyone besides Aiden. "Though the early morning crowd has its own appeal. You get to know the regulars, develop a rhythm." "Rhythm is important," Aiden said, his eyes never leaving mine. "In swimming, as in everything else. It's all about finding the right stroke, the right pace. Push too hard and you burn out. Too gentle and you never get anywhere." The subtext landed like a physical touch, and I felt heat rise despite the pool's cool air. "Well, I should let you get back to your laps," I said, already backing toward an empty lane. "Enjoy your rhythm." "You too, Ruby," Aiden called after me, and something in his tone made it sound like a promise. I slid into the water and discovered after three laps that thinking about not thinking about Aiden was more exhausting than the actual swimming. Every stroke reminded me of his body cutting through the water beside me, separated by just a few lanes of chlorinated space. Later, in the library's cathedral quiet, Emma and I claimed a table under the tall windows where rain had started to streak the glass. She was deep in a constitutional law text when she surfaced with sudden enthusiasm. "Are you planning to hit Strategy Lab tonight? Apparently the topic is leaning heavy into legal precedents for hostile takeovers. Sarah and Michael already confirmed they're going." The question pulled me back to reality with uncomfortable force. Strategy Lab meant Aiden, meant sitting in that charged space where every comment felt weighted with double meaning. "I should check if Alex has plans first," I said, already reaching for my phone. "We've been trying to spend more evenings together." The text went out with practiced casualness: Strategy Lab tonight? Emma's going and the topic sounds interesting. His reply arrived with the kind of speed that suggested he'd been waiting to disappoint me: Can't tonight, babe. Remember that girl from the hallway? She's still struggling with my article. Promised I'd walk her through the mathematical proofs over coffee. Missing you though. Something predatory uncurled in my chest at the phrasing. The girl from the hallway. Coffee. Mathematical proofs that I knew she could understand perfectly well if she actually tried. "Alex is busy," I told Emma, my voice carrying more edge than intended. "Apparently playing tutor to students who can't grasp basic volatility modeling." "That girl with the legs?" Emma asked, not looking up from her book. "She's in my contracts class. Smart enough when she wants to be. Just prefers private tutoring from attractive men." "How wonderful for her." I opened my message thread with Aiden, my fingers moving with the shameless ease that had become second nature. Me: You looked ridiculously good in those swim trunks this morning. Please tell me you have beach photos from your baseball days. For academic research purposes, obviously. The boldness no longer surprised me. When I wanted something, I reached for it. No one was going to stop me, least of all my own sense of propriety. Aiden: Thank you for the comprehensive visual assessment. I aim to please. As for photos-I might have a few from spring training in Florida. Me: Might? That's disappointingly vague, Professor. Aiden: If you want to look, you can do it live. All you have to do is ask. The temperature in the library seemed to spike. Emma said something about dinner plans, but I barely heard her over the sound of my own pulse. Me: Are you proposing a private swimming lesson? Aiden: I'm proposing you stop pretending you don't want to see more. We're past that particular fiction, aren't we? He was playing the same game I was, matching my boldness with his own, keeping everything just this side of deniable while making his interest crystalline clear. Me: Strategy Lab tonight? Aiden: Wouldn't miss it. Wear something that won't distract the other students. Or do-I enjoy watching them try to concentrate. I locked my phone, aware that Emma was watching me with knowing eyes. "You're going to that Lab session," she said, not a question but an observation. "And you're going to wear that black skirt that makes everyone forget their own names." "No reason I should sit home alone when there's academic enrichment available." I said, already mentally selecting my outfit. "Academic enrichment," Emma repeated, her tone dripping skepticism. "Is that what we're calling it?" "Would you prefer 'intellectual stimulation'?" "I'd prefer honesty, but that seems to be in short supply lately." She closed her book with decisive force. "Just be careful, Ruby. Some games don't have winners, only casualties." But warnings, like boundaries, had become remarkably easy to ignore.