Ruth smiled. She’s so cute. “I can’t wait.” She followed Caitlyn to the living room.

  “So, what do you think?”

  “Oh wow.” The room was spacious, even with bookshelves lining most of the far wall. The purple couch was spotless, and it matched one of the colors in the abstract painting that hung above it. A tall floor lamp cast soft yellow light over the room. “It looks like one of those perfect rooms in furniture catalogs.”

  “Almost everything is new,” Caitlyn said proudly. “I wanted to upgrade from my grad school days.”

  “I remember feeling the same way. By the time I graduated, I was twenty-nine and desperate to feel like an adult.” Ruth walked over to the bookshelves. “I can tell you’re an academic. You have hundreds of books and a tiny television.”

  “An ex-academic anyway.” Caitlyn shrugged.

  “Nonsense. You’ll always have a PhD. Not getting a tenure-track job doesn’t change that—nor does losing one. We’re both doctors, no matter what we do for a living.”

  “Good point.” They shared a smile.

  It was good to be with someone who understood, not just in theory but viscerally, how it felt to dedicate years to academia only to face a rejection that seemed to obliterate one’s career prospects and identity all at once.

  They looked into each other’s eyes in silence until Caitlyn moved forward and ran her fingertips down the side of Ruth’s cheek.

  Ruth melted into the touch, and a soft purring sound escaped her lips.

  Caitlyn leaned in and kissed her.

  The brief contact sent waves of desire through Ruth’s body.

  Caitlyn stepped back. “The first kiss in my new apartment.”

  Ruth steadied herself on the counter. “The first of many, I hope.”

  * * *

  When Caitlyn had offered to cook, Ruth had expected something like boiled pasta with sauce from a jar—perhaps a projection of her own culinary ineptitude. Caitlyn surprised her with a flavorful stir-fry served over rice from an actual rice cooker, plus a side salad with homemade lemon vinaigrette.

  “That was delicious,” Ruth said. “I’m not just saying it.”

  “I’m so glad you liked it.” Caitlyn couldn’t hide her proud smile. “Shall we sit on the couch?”

  “Sure.” Ruth picked up her plate and collected her silverware.

  “Oh, don’t worry about the dishes.” Caitlyn waved her off. “I’ll get them later.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Definitely. I’d rather spend this time talking.” She led the way to the living room and settled on the couch.

  Ruth sank into a plush cushion. “Oh—this couch is comfortable.”

  “Thanks.” Caitlyn grinned. “Chloe and I sat on about fifty of them before I decided.”

  For a moment, no one spoke. Ruth sat back and crossed her legs. “So where did you learn to cook?”

  “YouTube, mostly.” Caitlyn shrugged. “I couldn’t afford to get takeout every night, so I had to learn or starve.”

  “You managed better than I did back in grad school. I lived on instant noodles.” Ruth still found it odd to talk about grad school with Caitlyn. It was something they had in common, but Caitlyn hadn’t been able to talk openly until the secret was out. “What was grad school like for you, other than long and lacking in financial resources?”

  “Grad school was hard, I guess in all the usual ways. The workload, the stress. My advisor, Andrew, never made enough time for me. He treated me like an inconvenience rather than part of his job.”

  “That’s appalling,” Ruth said. “I can’t imagine having the opportunity to work with you and blowing it off. I bet you were one of the best grad students they’ve ever had.”

  “I tried to be,” Caitlyn said softly. “Maybe my work wasn’t great, but no one tried as hard as me. I never missed class, and I passed my qualifying exams with honors. I worked so hard on my dissertation, did everything Andrew wanted—and I was pleasant and appreciative even when I was screaming on the inside. I did literally everything right. But it wasn’t good enough.”

  Ruth made a disgusted sound. “The university should have intervened. Did you talk to the dean?”

  Caitlyn blinked. “Um, that wasn’t really an option. Technically, Andrew did the minimum for me to graduate, so…”

  Ruth forced herself to calm down. Her instinct to defend Caitlyn was overriding her experience and what she knew to be true. “Of course. You’re right. Most people don’t understand why grad students or new professors can’t appeal to authority when they get screwed—but I do understand.”

  “Yeah.” Caitlyn smiled gratefully. “You get it. I just did my best to get through it.”

  “Is that when your anxiety got bad?” Ruth asked. All she remembered from Caitlyn’s original explanation, long ago, was that she’d had anxiety during “school.”

  Caitlyn nodded. “I’ve always pushed myself hard at the expense of my health, but grad school was a new level of hell. I really struggled with my confidence, and some of my coping mechanisms weren’t very good.” She stared at her plate.

  “You don’t have to talk about it.” Ruth’s mind ran through possibilities—several of her own classmates had self-destructed in different ways—but she didn’t want to ruin a nice evening by pushing.

  “No, it’s okay. I want to. Um, when things got bad, it was hard for me to sleep without medication. And I used to, um, scratch my arms and legs, sometimes until I was bleeding.”

  “I’m sorry you went through that.” Consumed with an urge to pull her close, Ruth reached out and touched Caitlyn’s wrist.

  “Thank you.” Caitlyn took her hand and squeezed it, confirming the contact was welcome.

  Ruth scooted closer and wrapped her arm around Caitlyn’s back.

  Caitlyn leaned into the embrace. “It was rough, but in my second year, I finally got help. The medication changed my whole life. It’s not that I never struggle, but I’m able to work through my stress before it spirals out of control.”

  “That’s wonderful. I feel the same way about my medication. It’s not a cure, but it helps a lot. And I’m able to catch myself when I start slipping into the early stages of depression.”

  “We really are similar.” Caitlyn turned her head to meet Ruth’s eyes. “When I was at Pulaski, there were so many times I wished I could tell you—not just who I really was, but how much I could relate to you. I hated lying to you every day.”

  Ruth’s muscles tensed.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought up the—the switch. I know we’re trying to move past all of that.”

  Forcing her body to relax, Ruth pushed away her discomfort. The deception was over. “It’s okay. I know what you mean. Even when I thought you were Chloe, I sensed that you understood me. It didn’t make sense back then, but now it does.”

  They exchanged awkward smiles, and then Caitlyn stood abruptly. “I thought we could try those chocolates.” She retrieved the box from the counter and returned to the couch.

  “Excellent plan.” The break in the tension was a relief.

  “It was so thoughtful of you to bring these.”

  “I was thinking of myself too. I’m a big fan of chocolate,” Ruth said with a wry smile.

  “I know.” Caitlyn’s eyes crinkled. “I’ve seen your stash of Caramello bars.” She slid the ribbon off the box and scanned the tray of truffles. “Ooh. They all look amazing.”

  “Do you have a favorite flavor?”

  “I don’t think I could choose. But I’m going to start with coconut.” Caitlyn held it to her mouth and ran her teeth down the edge, shaving off a sliver of coating.

  Ruth’s breath caught as she watched. Was Caitlyn doing this on purpose?

  Caitlyn gave her a sweet little smile. “I like to savor it.” She sank her teeth in farther and let out a long, throaty sigh. “Oh my God. This is incredible. It’s so rich and creamy.”

  Definitely on purpose. Ruth’s chest and neck flushed. “That good?”

  Moving closer, Caitlyn looked into Ruth’s eyes. “Want a taste?”

  God, yes. Ruth closed the gap and met Caitlyn’s mouth with hers.

  Caitlyn dropped her head back and parted her lips, allowing Ruth’s tongue to indulge.

  Pleasure pooled within Ruth as chocolate mixed with the taste of Caitlyn. She pulled their bodies closer together until Caitlyn’s hard nipples nudged her chest. Her nipples ached in response.

  They made out on the couch like teenagers, hands roaming the curves of each other’s backs and hips. Ruth squeezed her thighs together as arousal throbbed in her center. “I want you.” The words poured from her lips in a loaded whisper before she could think them through.

  Caitlyn’s breath was steamy against Ruth’s skin. “You can stay. If you want. I have a brand-new bed.”

  “Um. I don’t know.” Ruth longed to say yes, but Caitlyn’s invitation brought her back to earth—and what it would mean to strip off her clothes and be completely vulnerable.

  She imagined herself naked, nervous, and unable to respond how Caitlyn wanted. Would it be okay? She had tried to move past the months of lies, to not let her issues hold her back from a relationship that had the potential to become something special.

  “It just takes a lot for me to, um…” Ruth sucked in a breath and tensed her abs. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been the one escalating the, ah, physical aspect tonight. But I’m not ready for more yet—as much as my body says otherwise.” Her mouth quirked into a rueful smile.

  “Oh my gosh, of course.” Caitlyn grasped both of Ruth’s hands. “There’s no rush, and I would never pressure you. Never.”

  “Thank you.” The immediate acceptance and reassurance made Ruth feel safer. “I just need to calm my hormones a bit.”

  Caitlyn reached for the tray of chocolates. “I know what you need.”

  Ruth laughed. “The next best thing.” She plucked a truffle from the tray and popped it into her mouth whole. The explosion of chocolate and caramel on her tongue didn’t sate her craving for Caitlyn, but it would have to do. For now.

  * * *

  Two days later, Ruth was at work with the early signs of a headache. An administrative snafu had resulted in a double-booking for the campus auditorium, and neither party was backing down, so the week was off to a trying start.

  She was searching her desk drawer for her Advil when a knock sounded.

  “Come in!” She slammed the drawer closed.

  Maggie walked in, bearing her laptop, red curls bouncing with each buoyant step. “Hi!”

  Ruth smiled at Maggie’s confidence, another positive change Caitlyn had brought to the college. Her thoughts drifted to their last date, but she shoved them away and cleared her throat. “How can I help you?”

  “Do you have time for some good news?”

  “There’s a meteor headed straight for my desk?”

  Maggie pouted. “Sorry, I guess it’s not a good time.”

  “Wait.” It was wrong to take out her mood on poor Maggie. “Apologies. Please have a seat.”

  “Okay.” Maggie sat at the table and opened her laptop.

  Ruth settled beside her. “So what’s the news?”

  “It’s the end-of-term data. Final grades are in.” Maggie tapped the mouse pad, and a table appeared on the screen. “I haven’t had a chance to make it pretty, but look. Withdrawals and incompletes are way down.”

  Ruth leaned in to study the data. “Really?”

  “Yes. We improved across the board, but look at this.” She pointed to the bottom of the table. “Withdrawals dropped ten percent in remedial math—er, I mean ten percentage points.”

  Ruth’s mouth twitched as she recalled the day Caitlyn had taught her senior staff about percentages. “This is excellent news. Thank you for sharing. And thank you for all of your help with the enrollment work group this semester. You’ve done a great job.”

  Maggie blushed. “I should thank Chloe. She’s the one who taught me how to do the analysis.” She paused. “Honestly, we didn’t get off to the best start, but now I miss her.”

  “I miss her too.” After all of three days. It was strange to speak the truth aloud at work, even in a cryptic way that Maggie wouldn’t understand.

  “Did you ever hear anything about where she ended up?”

  “No. She hasn’t kept in touch.” Back to lying.

  “Too bad.” Maggie closed her laptop. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work. I just wanted to share these results right away.”

  “I appreciate it. Email those numbers to me when you get a chance.”

  As Maggie walked out, Ruth remained at the table, resting her chin on her fist as she thought about Caitlyn. Perhaps she needed to talk to someone who knew at least some of the truth already. She got up and walked down the hall to Piper’s office.

  Piper sat at her desk, absorbed in whatever was on her computer screen. Her thick glasses rested on the knob of her nose.

  Ruth knocked on the doorframe. “Hi. Is this a bad time?”

  “Not at all.” Piper gestured to the small table in the corner of her office. “Have a seat.”

  “Are you sure? You looked like you were really concentrating on something.”

  Piper looked guilty. “It was about the…Kardashians.”

  “Ah.” Ruth closed the door and plopped down in one of the chairs. “Well, this is personal, so we’re both off-task today.”

  “Oh good. What’s up?” Piper sat across from her.

  Ruth decided she might as well say it. “I’ve been seeing Caitlyn Taylor. Socially.”

  “Socially as in…romantically?”

  “Yes.” While Piper had all but encouraged it, Ruth still felt self-conscious. Her pulse accelerated as she waited for a reaction.

  Piper’s gaze was calm. “Well. Good. How is it going?”

  “For the most part, really well. We have a lot in common, but we’re different in some ways too. We never run out of things to talk about. The, um, attraction is strong.”

  “Sounds wonderful. What’s the problem?”

  Ruth shifted in her chair. “Since we’ve started spending time together, she has been nothing but open and straightforward—as far as I can tell. But part of me is afraid to trust her with…everything. Meaning, there are certain steps that I want badly, but…” She licked her lips. “Um.”

  “What do you…?” Piper’s eyebrows rose. “Oh.”

  “No!” Ruth hadn’t meant to say this much. Maybe she could backtrack. “I’m not talking about any specific activity or milestone. Just our relationship in general. I can feel myself holding back. I keep ruminating about her deception and wondering what it means for us.”

  “I see.” Piper toyed with the stress ball she kept on the table. “You know, I don’t condone what she did here at Pulaski. It was reckless, and she put the whole institution at risk.” She paused. “But that girl worked her bottom off to help you. I’ve never seen anyone shut down Steve Stubbons the way you did at that board meeting, and it was because of Caitlyn. The enrollment work group was a great idea, one that was long overdue—and I’ve noticed that you’ve been more accessible to faculty all semester. I’m not saying it’s all her influence, but you have to admit, she gave good advice.”

  “You’re right,” Ruth said. “I just saw Maggie, and our withdrawal rate has dropped. The faculty are finally working with me instead of against me, and I can already see the results. I feel secure in this position for the first time, and I’m not sure it would have happened without Caitlyn. I just wish it could have happened without the lies.”

  “I know.” Piper patted her arm. “But there’s nothing either of you can do to change the past. You can only move forward.”

  It was an obvious point, but one she needed to hear. “You’re right. Whatever I think or feel about it, Caitlyn coming here as Chloe will always be part of our story. It will always be how we met. I need to accept it—and if I can’t, our relationship will never work.” Her gut clenched at the thought. That’s not an option.

  Piper gave her a rueful smile. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m rooting for you two.”

  “Thanks, Piper.” She rose to her feet. “I’ll let you get back to the Kardashians. I’ve got a text to send.”

  * * *

  Caitlyn knew it looked bad to check her phone in a meeting, but when the screen lit up with a message from Ruth, she couldn’t restrain herself.

  Hope you’re having a good day. I’d love for you to come over on Friday evening.

  Warmth spread through her chest, and her limbs tingled with happiness.

  As discreetly as possible, she slid the phone to her lap and typed a response:

  I’d love to come over. Thank you.

  She added a heart emoji and tapped send.

  “Caitlyn, could you please present the transfer data?” Dr. Tomlin, the LCC president, asked.

  She popped her head up. “Of course.” Fortunately, she already had the presentation open on her laptop. She tapped the icon to mirror her screen on the wall-sized monitor.

  “This chart shows our transfer metric over time. As you can see, it increased a few years ago and then plateaued.” She tapped to change the slide. “And these are our top transfer destinations, sorted by percent.”

  Dr. Tomlin furrowed his bushy brows. “It makes sense that the University of Illinois is on top. They’ve done a lot of recruitment here. But we’re underperforming with some of these other four-year schools in the area.”

  “Pulaski should be higher,” said Nina Crenshaw, the dean of student services. “They’re located twenty minutes from here.”

  Caitlyn flinched. Act natural. She wasn’t supposed to have strong feelings about Pulaski College.