I have a large-ass list of career credentials, and she’s going to tell me about his prize while only giving me “family friend.” Fine, then. I offer George my hand. “Nice to meet you, George.” I’ll be damned if I’m going to call him Dr. Alby.

George’s attempt at a firm handshake is laughable. Dude might still know his way around the gym and have eight to ten years on me, but his hands are as soft as a five-year-old boy’s. And yeah, I’m judging. “You’re getting a campus tour today?” he asks.

“Yeah. Shay’s nice enough to show me around.”

She shoots me a death glare that says she’s not doing it out of the goodness of her heart.

“Well, you’re in for a treat,” George says, beaming at her. “Shay’s the best company you could ask for.”

“I know she is. That’s why I wanted her to do it.”

He loops his arm around her shoulders—again, not exactly inappropriate, but definitely more intimate than colleague or mentor. Body language is everything, and his says, She’s mine. I wonder if he knows about her secret boyfriend. “You played football?”

I almost laugh at his blasé tone. As if he’s asking if I played on the intermural team at some accounting firm, but I manage to keep a straight face. “A little.”

Shay rolls her eyes. “Easton was MVP this year. He’s just retired and wrapped up an impressive career with more than four hundred passing touchdowns and over fifty thousand yards.”

I smirk at her. Someone was paying attention.

“I don’t really follow sports,” George says. “Seeing grown men give each other concussions isn’t my idea of fun.”

Football isn’t for everyone, and hell, I’ve had enough concussions that I’m legitimately concerned about the future of my brain. Nobody wants to end up in a nursing home, drooling into their Jell-O before the age of fifty. And yet I bet George’s idea of “fun” is about as stimulating as watching paint dry.

George can’t keep his eyes off Shay, and it makes me want to punch him. Something about the way he looks at her is so possessive. Do most dissertation chairmen look at their students like they plan to strip them bare and fuck them silly? “Let’s meet after my three o’clock so we can talk about the chapter I want you to rewrite.”

I don’t miss the way she tenses a fraction at those words. “I can’t tonight. I promised Lilly I’d take her to gymnastics and watch her new bar routine.”

“Come by my office after you’re done giving your tour, then.” He winks at her then turns to go, not bothering to say goodbye to either of us.