I’m thanking the academic gods that Cash is leading the lecture today, because my focus is everywhere but here. Like who the hell gave him that hickey? Did he fuck them? Was it a woman or a man? Before I know it, the students filter out of the class. An hour and a half gone in the blink of an eye. Cash walks up to me, his usual boyish grin on his face.

“I’ll have their essays graded by Wednesday’s class, okay?”

“You have a hickey.” Shit. That was not what I was going to say.

His brows pinch, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I do. You’re very observant, teach.”

“I’m sorry. That was inappropriate and none of my business.” Clearing my throat, I avoid his gaze. “That’s fine, having the papers to me by Wednesday. Have a wonderful evening, Mr. DeMarco.”

“Yeah, you too, Professor Philips.” He saunters out of the room, steps full of swagger, and I can’t help but watch him go.

Pushing to my feet, I start packing my briefcase up, and am almost done when Dean Marshall walks in. “Stone, hey. Glad I caught you.”

“Hi, Trey. How’s it going?” Trey Marshall has been the dean of this school since I was in undergrad. We’ve come to be on a friendly, first name basis.

“Not too bad. I need a favor; I’m hoping you can help me.”

“What’s up?”

“Professor Dillion went into labor early. She wasn’t due for another six weeks, and her water broke late last night. We have someone who can cover her classes for the rest of the semester, but their schedule is extremely tight. I was hoping between you and your aide, you two could do the grading for that class?”

“Just the grading?”

“Yeah. Like I said, we have someone who can do the lectures. Her course material is the same as yours, so you and Mr. DeMarco shouldn’t have any issue.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s fine, I guess.”

Trey claps his hands together, clearly thrilled by my agreeance. “Wonderful. I’ll have my assistant bring you the assignments that currently need grading later this week. You’re the best, Stone.”

As Trey leaves, my ass sits on my desk, hand rubbing the back of my neck. I really should just do this myself, but with my current workload, I don’t have the capacity to grade a whole other class by myself. I’d be stretching myself too thin. Reaching into my pocket, I grab my phone, opening my text exchange with Cash.

Me: Hey, just spoke with the dean. He asked a favor from us. Can you meet me later this evening to go over it?

The message shows read almost immediately, the text bubble appearing, letting me know he’s writing his response.

Cash: Sure. Where and when?

Me: Can you come to my classroom, say six pm?