Theo's pov-
I hadn't wanted to come.
But when the dean says show up, you show up. Shake hands, nod politely, pretend like your paycheck isn't a quarter of the people's handbags in the room.
I was halfway through a glass of whiskey, mentally rehearsing my escape, when the room shifted.
And by "shifted," I mean—She walked in.
Sid.
Wearing red.
Not the sweet, satin kind of red that apologizes for itself.No—hers was dangerous. A slit up to war, heels designed to command. And that mouth? Painted like a dare.
I saw her before she saw me.
And for a second, just a second, I remembered what it felt like to forget consequences.
She spotted me near the bar, and when our eyes locked, my grip tightened around the glass before I could stop myself.
She walked toward me like she belonged here more than I did. She probably did.
"Didn't know you frequented donor parties," she said, smooth and sparkling. "Looking for funding or forgiveness?"
God, she was poison in perfume.
"Didn't know you showed up to events you didn't understand," I said.
She stepped closer.
I could smell her now.
Champagne and defiance.
"Oh, I understand power dynamics perfectly," she said. "And the irony of you showing up to a black-tie event to talk ethics."
I laughed—quiet and bitter.
She didn't flinch.
"You're playing with fire," I warned.
"No," she whispered, eyes locked on mine. "I am the fire. You're just pretending not to burn."
And that was the moment.
The line.
The one I didn't cross—but wanted to.
I stepped in, close enough to feel the heat off her skin.
"This isn't school, Sid," I said. "There are no rules here. So be careful."
She smiled.
Like she'd already won.
And when she turned and walked away, hips swaying, chin high, every thought I'd been clinging to collapsed like a house of cards.
I should've left right then.
But I didn't.
Because I wanted her to come back.
And that terrified me more than anything.
Sid's pov-
I wasn't supposed to be there.
Not really.
The gala was for alumni, board members, and donors desperate to feel relevant. But Daddy's name on the invitation meant I had a dress, a driver, and a table near the front.
And when I walked into the ballroom—slit dress, red lips, and diamonds older than most professors—I knew every head would turn.
But only one mattered.
He was near the bar.Navy suit, no tie. Hair less controlled, expression even more so.
Theo Hale.
The professor.
MY professor.
I watched him before he saw me. The way he sipped his whiskey. The way his shoulders stiffened when the dean laughed too loud beside him. The way his eyes wandered the crowd like he was looking for something he wasn't allowed to want.
And then—
He saw me.
For a moment, his expression didn't change.
But his grip on the glass did.
I smiled.
And made my way toward him.
"Didn't know you frequented donor parties," I said, lifting a champagne flute from a passing tray. "Looking for funding or forgiveness?"
His eyes didn't leave mine. "Didn't know you showed up to events you didn't understand."
"Oh, I understand power dynamics perfectly," I said, stepping closer. "And the irony of you showing up to a black-tie event to talk ethics."
He laughed once. Low. Sharp.
"You're playing with fire."
"No," I said, sipping slowly. "I am the fire. You're just pretending not to burn."
He stepped forward then, voice low, close to my ear.
"This isn't school, Sid. There are no rules here. So be careful."
I smiled, not moving an inch. "Good. I'm tired of rules."
Then I walked away—
Not because I wanted to.
But because I knew he wouldn't.
And that meant I'd already won.