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and you’ll have the career ahead of you that you create, not just what one research grant’s gonna bring you,” he says calmly.

“I don’t know everything about your life, but I do know what it’s like to not have anyone,” he adds.

“What do you mean?” I ask. “You’ve got me.”

“I know I do,” he smiles. “I mean I know what it’s like to not have anyone growing up. To not have a family.”

I open my mouth to say something, anything but he kisses me gently instead.

“Don’t worry yourself about it all now. We’ve got a lot longer than this weekend to get to know everything there is to know about Wes and Katelyn,” he assures me.

My interest is piqued though, he’s right. There’s so much we don’t know about each other, but at the same time, I trust Wes more than anything, even more than myself.

It feels like we’ve known each other our whole lives.

“Just tell me this, Katelyn,” he asks. “Do you want the family you never had? Can you see yourself giving, loving, and teaching little ones of your own, making their life perfect just by being there?” he asks a little firmer.

He turns away again for a moment, but I catch the strain in his voice, the silver line at the corner of his eye.

“Do I want the family I never had?” I repeat back to him, absently running a hand over my belly and wondering it aloud because I’ve never heard it put so simply before.

I guess I’ve always dissolved myself in my studies, even those romance novels, all because it’s a way of channeling myself into something.

Putting all of me into something so it works. Every time I thought about boys or relationships I always told myself I was no good. That no one would have me.

“Do you think I’d make a good mom someday?” I ask him, really interested to know what he thinks.

“The best,” he says without hesitating, the brightness returning to his eyes as he smiles, coming back over to me and hooking his arms around my waist, running his hands over my hips.

“Maybe I do wish for that,” I murmur.

“Maybe I do think family is everything because it’s the one thing I never had,” I tell myself out loud.

Wes doesn’t say anything else, but seems more pleased than ever, despite my own anxiety over the whole college situation.

“We’ll get through this, Katelyn. I said I’d be with you every step of the way, and I will be. Now. Do you want breakfast-lunch here or at home?” he asks.

“Home?” I ask looking up at him, trying not to groan because my brain hurts from thinking about everything too hard.

“Home,” he whispers in my ear. And I suddenly feel my head nodding, wanting nothing more than to be home with Wes.

Wherever that might be.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Wesley

I can’t say the call was unexpected but on a long weekend?

Even for the Dean, that’s a pretty big deal. But we do have some history, Dean Douglas Masters and me.

Katelyn has Professor Bernstein, steering her along in the right direction, getting her scholarship, finding her grant.

Me, I had a younger college Dean, the youngest in the state vouching for me. Taking it on himself to get a gymnastics scholarship over football once he saw me nearly break my neck winning a championship ring for my efforts.

Little did we both know I’d end up breaking my back for the other.

“Dammit Wes, I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” he growls down the phone at me.

“It’s not unheard of but it’s just not the done thing either,” he protests after trying to read me the riot act.

Only after I’ve pointed out Katelyn and I haven’t broken college rules nor the law by being together. “Maybe at a different college, in another state. Who knows? But Jesus Christ bananas, Doug, I don’t see how any of this is anybody’s business except our own.”

He sighs bitterly. “It’s not, you’re right there, Wes,” he agrees.

“But?” I have to ask, knowing him well enough to know he’s just getting warmed up.

“I’m calling you wearing two hats, Wes,” he says, lowering his voice and I can hear the top of his blood pressure medicine being unscrewed before he crunches some tablets in his mouth while he’s talking.

“On the one hand as Dean of this college, I have to advise against any relations with any student until either they or you are no longer part of the college,” he says, growling out the last part.

“On the other hand,” he continues, interrupting me before I can say anything, “I’m calling you as your friend, Wes. Don’t complicate your life, the rest of your career with this. I know a man has needs, Wes but there’s a whole world out there. Women your own age… Jesus man, from what I’ve been told you could do a thousand times better too,” he says suddenly, almost shouting again.

And that’s when I make my mind up, for real this time.

I’ve danced with the idea of quitting for years. Only ever hung on out of a sense of obligation to Doug and all he and the college have done for me.

But hearing him say anything like that, something so base, so crass about Katelyn.

Well, he’s no better than the worst jocks I have to coach. No better than anyone who’s ever said anything unkind to her, or done any of those terrible things she told me about.

I should be frothing at the mouth. I should be marching over there to knock out what teeth he has left, but I know it wouldn’t change anything.

It wouldn’t change him and it wouldn’t change people like him from being in the world. From being at the school.

“Professor Bernstein is very upset, Wes. He’s been your neighbor for how long? And this girl, she’s his prized pupil. Can you see how badly this is going to reflect on him once it gets out?” he wheezes, only taking short, rasping breaths before he starts off again.

“And

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