Macy’s hands shook slightly as she knocked on Professor Luke Harrington’s office door at 7:15 PM. The English department hallway was empty and dimly lit. Everyone else had gone home hours ago.
“Come in.”
She pushed the door open. Professor Harrington — 42 years old, tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair graying at the temples and piercing blue eyes — sat behind his cluttered oak desk, grading papers under the warm glow of a brass lamp. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms, and his jaw was set in that familiar stern line.
“Close the door, Miss Reed,” he said without looking up. “And lock it.”
Macy’s pulse spiked. She obeyed, the lock clicking loudly in the quiet room.
Professor Harrington finally lifted his gaze. Those blue eyes scanned her slowly — the short plaid sk
