Chapter 115

 

Elena stared at him.

Richard seemed to drift briefly into memory.

"He was strict. He had a habit of calling on students without warning and making them defend a position on the spot. I ended up debating him a few times."

He paused.

Elena raised an eyebrow.

"Were those good memories?"

"Hard to say."

Richard carried the books toward the stairs.

"What do you need all these for?"

Elena followed beside him, practically bouncing up the marble steps as she told him everything—the invitation she had received that morning, the competition, the theme, and how she had already registered.

As she talked, she patted the side of the stack in his arms.

"It's being published by MIT Press. University libraries all over the world could end up carrying it."

She paused as something occurred to her.

When it came to theory and academic research, her boyfriend was definitely better at this than she was.

"My papers and assignments aren't exactly amazing or anything," she admitted. "But I really like the question they're asking."

Richard carried the books into her bedroom and set them on the desk.

Then he turned.

Elena was still standing near the doorway, enthusiastically explaining her ideas beneath the warm glow of the wall lamps.

Richard watched her quietly for several seconds.

Her voice gradually faded.

She wasn't sure what he was thinking.

Maybe he thought she was taking on too much.

Or perhaps—

If you want your name in a book, I can just pay to have one published. Why bother with a competition?

With Richard, that was not an entirely ridiculous possibility.

Instead, he turned back to the desk.

He opened the blue-gray hardcover on top of the stack and flipped to the table of contents.

His finger stopped at the second chapter.

"Anticipating Movement: Motor Intention, Observation, and Emotional Perception."

He glanced at her.

"Start here."

Elena immediately came closer.

"You can skim the introduction. The first chapter is mostly background on the evolutionary framework, so it isn't directly useful for what you're trying to do. Read it if you want context, but don't get stuck there."

He tapped the second chapter.

"This is where Ward starts building the book's central argument. It also gets much closer to the question your competition is asking."

Elena looked at the title again.

Then up at him.

"Okay!"

She smiled.

"I'll read it properly."

"If there's something you don't understand, we can discuss it."

Elena's smile widened.

"Yes, Professor Sterling."

Something in Richard's expression shifted.

"But before you ask me anything, reread the section you don't understand three times."

Elena nodded with exaggerated seriousness.

Richard lasted another two seconds before reaching out and pinching her cheek.

Her skin was soft beneath his fingers, and instead of immediately letting go, he gave her cheek another absentminded squeeze.

"I'll find you one of Ward's collections of follow-up essays too. There's some later research that might help."

"Okay."

Elena caught his hand before he could pull it away and lightly traced her fingertips across his palm.

"I understand, Professor."

Richard looked down at the fingers playing against his hand.

Then he closed his hand around her wrist and pulled.

Elena stumbled directly into his chest.

Before she could complain, his other hand lifted her chin and he kissed her.

The kiss started slowly, but deepened almost at once. His mouth moved over hers with unhurried confidence, coaxing her lips apart until Elena's fingers tightened in the front of his shirt.

Richard took his time, keeping her close as the kiss grew warmer and deeper. Elena tilted her face up to him, one hand still twisted in his shirt as her breathing gradually lost its rhythm.

By the time he finally pulled back, her breath had gone uneven.

Neither of them moved very far.

His forehead rested against hers, the tip of his nose brushing lightly against her own.

"Whatever you want to do," he said quietly, "do it."

Elena was still slightly dazed from the kiss.

Richard slid his hand to the back of her head, his fingers moving gently through her hair.

"If there's anything you need from me, tell me."

His voice softened.

"I'll support you."

For a moment, Elena couldn't answer.

Her eyes grew unexpectedly warm.

Then she rose onto her toes and kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Promise?"

Richard gave a quiet hum of agreement.

"Promise."

He kissed her forehead before finally releasing her.

"Come downstairs. Dinner."

Dinner that night looked as though it had been prepared for two people from entirely different households.

Elena had lemon-herb chicken, a spicy roasted vegetable dish, mushrooms, and a light, tangy soup—all prepared around the bright, sharp flavors she preferred.

Richard's dinner was considerably heavier: a thick-cut ribeye cooked medium-rare, roasted garlic, asparagus, crisp potatoes, a small serving of creamy mushroom pasta, and thin slices of Ibérico ham.

Elena ate a few pieces of chicken and vegetables, finished the mushrooms, took several sips of soup, and set down her fork.

She looked at the amount of food still on the table.

"If I don't finish all this, it doesn't just get thrown away, right?"

Richard looked up.

"Anything untouched that can be donated is donated. The rest gets composted or processed with the kitchen waste."

His gaze moved to her plate.

"You don't like dinner?"

"No."

Elena sighed.

"I have to film the dance piece, remember? If I'm going to be on camera properly, I want to lean out a little. It'll look better."

Richard went quiet.

His first instinct was to start explaining how insufficient fueling could affect neuromuscular control, concentration, recovery, and performance.

But Elena had been dancing for eighteen years.

She wasn't a beginner who needed a lecture on what her own body could handle.

Elena caught the look on his face.

"Relax. I know what I'm doing. This is normal for me. I was thinner than this during some of my most intensive training periods."

Richard considered that.

Then he nodded.

"I'll have a sports dietitian put together something that fits your training schedule. You can adjust it with them if you need to."

Elena didn't object.

"Sure."

Richard picked up his fork again.

Then paused.

"One more thing."

Elena looked at him.

"What did you have for lunch?"

Elena froze.

"..."