Chapter 388: Thomas Avery Blinked in Confusion

"...Huh?" Thomas Avery blinked in confusion.

"Who delivered it? When? How come I didn't know?"

"I happened to be at Ashford University today and heard you wanted to give the flash drive to Clara Whitmore, so I dropped it off on my way."

"I see... You should've told me earlier. I've been searching everywhere..."

Connor Hayes smirked inwardly. If he'd given advance notice, there'd be no element of surprise.

Aloud, he said, "It was a last-minute decision. Sorry for forgetting to mention it."

"Fine. As long as it's delivered."

"Mm."

Hanging up, the man gripped the steering wheel, his lips curving upward unbidden.

* * *

In his study, Elias Mercer was organizing experimental data.

But his focus kept slipping.

The scene he'd witnessed two hours ago from his balcony replayed relentlessly—

Connor walking with her from the alleyway.

The man murmuring something that made Clara first frown, then roll her eyes in exasperation before turning to dash away.

Connor standing motionless, watching her retreating figure with tenderness pooling in his gaze.

Under the amber streetlights, their shadows had intertwined.

They'd looked...perfect together.

So...the person she'd been meeting was Connor?

Elias snapped back to reality, realizing the data on his screen had become a jumbled mess.

Where had he left off?

Which row was he supposed to check next?

In the end, he had to start over completely.

At 3 AM, the study light still burned.

Exhausted, Elias shut his laptop—the data remained incomplete.

Tomorrow, then.

After a quick wash, he collapsed into bed but tossed restlessly, sleep eluding him entirely.

Elias Mercer tossed and turned, finally falling into a fitful sleep at 3 AM.

His dreams galloped like wild horses, careening into absurd territories.

Everything was shrouded in a hazy mist, indistinct and blurred.

A slender figure emerged from the fog, each step landing directly on his pounding heart.

He yanked at his tie in frustration, popping two shirt buttons as his Adam's apple bobbed.

An internal fire scorched his veins, leaving his mouth parched.

That indescribable craving set his entire body aflame.

Compelled by instinct, he reached for the figure, grasping her delicate hand.

His fingertips traced the smooth curve of her arm before ascending to her slender neck.

Skin contact hit him like an oasis to a desert wanderer.

When his lips cautiously met hers, a soft gasp ignited the fuse of his long-suppressed desire.

As the woman turned, recognition struck like lightning—

Clara Whitmore.

Elias jolted awake to the first gray light of dawn.

His gaze dropped to the damp pajama pants. A fist slammed into the headboard.

Shame crashed over him in waves.

He'd fantasized about his own student.

Cold shower spray failed to rinse the images from his mind as he stood under the icy deluge.

* * *

Clara stretched as sunlight painted gold stripes across her bed.

Humming, she dressed in a sky-blue sundress and bounced out the door.

Morning classes flew by in a blur.

At lunch, Noah Kessler leaned in conspiratorially. "Professor Caldwell's back in the lab."

Maya Torres nibbled her straw. "Wasn't she at the symposium?"

"Returned early." Noah dropped his voice. "Rumor says she's got breakthrough data."

Clara's eyes sparkled.

That afternoon, Professor Miriam Caldwell indeed calibrated equipment in the lab.

Clara steadied her breathing before approaching. "Professor, may I have a moment?"

Behind her glasses, Miriam's eyes flickered with surprise.

"Certainly." She powered down the device. "Let's talk in my office."