Alpha's Hidden Precious Luna-Chapter 203

Lily POV

After we finished our lessons for the day, Professor Morrison—Nathan, as Celeste had called him—rushed back to his desk and picked up his phone. I watched as he scrolled through what appeared to be a series of messages, frowning deeply with each swipe.

I remained seated on the couch, organizing my notes from our session while keeping an eye on his increasingly agitated behavior. He gathered his belongings with one hand while typing responses with the other, his attention divided between the physical world and whatever crisis was unfolding on his screen.

Something about his distraction made me hesitate to leave. Despite how he’d already made it clear that I should mind my business, I found myself worried about him.

Suddenly, he raised his head and met my gaze, his eyes widened in surprise as if he didn’t expect I would still be here.

"You’re still here?" he asked.

I nodded, setting my notebook aside. “Yes sir and I know I should mind my business but you’re a mess sir and I have a feeling that I can help you fix it. You should see how you look.”

He sighed heavily, running his free hand through his dark hair. "It’s fine. It’s just my mother."

I waited for him to eexplain, sensing there was more to the story.

"Apparently, she wants me to go to the gala with someone I’ve never met before," he continued, an awkward expression settling on his face that was so unlike his usual composed demeanor that I couldn’t help but laugh.

"So all this while," I said between giggles, "the frowns, the worry on your face, it’s because your mom set you up for a blind date and not because the world is ending?"

He nodded with an almost innocent expression that made him look younger. "Is it not enough reason to worry?"

I laughed again, delighted by this glimpse of seeing this part of the professor that I’ve never seen before. "I think you’re not so good with women, and it’s scaring you because it’s nothing like teaching a history class."

Nathan glared at me, though there was no real heat in it. "My social skills are perfectly adequate, thank you very much."

"Are they though?" I teased, feeling more relaxed than I had around him in since I came in for my tutorship. "Because from where I’m sitting, you seem terrified of one little dinner date."

"It’s not just dinner," he protested, shoving his phone into his pocket with more force than necessary. "It’s an entire evening of forced conversation with someone my mother has deemed suitable based on her personal assessment and believe me, I do not agree with my mother on things like this. We’re worlds apart."

"Maybe she’ll be nice, and mothers know this kind of thing. They know who will be perfect for their child," I said soothingly, though I was still fighting back laughter at way he was almost panicking.

"My mother’s definition of ’nice’ usually involves extensive discussion of the kind of family the person is from, how wealthy they are, if they’re ready to give birth to a dozen babies...something in that line,” He replied dryly. "Not exactly my idea of stimulating conversation."

“That means you do have a type?” I probed further.

“Of course,” he eyed me strangely adjusting his glasses. “I have a kind of woman I’d want to end up with.”

“What if your mate shows up one of these days and she’s not your type, will you reject her because of that?”

“First, I don’t think I would find a wife through the mate bond thing. I don’t believe in it. So that’s not possible.”

"Well," I said, standing and shouldering my bag, "speaking of gala dates, Jason asked me to go with him."

Nathan paused in his packing as he looked up at me. "Did he?"

"This morning, actually. Right before first period." I replied.

He nodded once, finishing his organization "I see.”

Together, we walked out of his office, and I waited while he locked the door behind us. The hallway was mostly empty, with only the occasional student or faculty member passing by as we made our way toward the stairwell.

"So what are you going to tell him?" Nathan asked as we descended the stairs.

“Tell who?”

“Jason,” he murmured. “What did you say to him when he asked you to go with him to the gala?”

“Nothing yet,” I replied quietly. “He ran away before I could reject or accept him but who knows I might end up accepting him.”

“And your mate won’t mind?” he threw over his shoulders looking at me with surprise.

A bitter smile crossed my lips. “It’s complicated, Prof.”

"Most things are," he replied.

When we finally got to the parking lot, Nathan gestured towards a sleek black sedan. “Do you want a ride home?” he asked.

"No, thank you," I declined politely. "I’ll take the bus."

He nodded, pulling his keys from his pocket, but just as he was about to open his car door, I stopped him.

"Nathan?"

He turned in surprise, clearly not expecting me to use his first name. "Are we back to first name basis?”

I smiled, feeling oddly nervous about asking for his opinion. "About the gala. Should I say yes to Jason?"

He stared at me for a moment and then shrugged. “My opinion doesn’t matter, Lily. Just do whatever you like. I really don’t care."

I felt slightly disappointed by his dismissive response. "You didn’t like that I was flirting with him the other day, and now you want me to do whatever I want?"

"I have my own life to worry about," he said with a shrug. "I’m sure you can handle yours."

"But—"

"Look, Miss Stone," he interrupted, reverting to the formal address, "you’re an adult. You can make your own decisions about who you spend time with. It’s not my place to advise you on your personal relationships."

"Even though you seemed pretty concerned about my ’mate’ situation just now?" I challenged.

His jaw tightened. "That was different."

"How?"

"Because—" He stopped himself, frustrated by whatever he’d been about to say. "Because it doesn’t matter. You’ll do what you want regardless of what anyone else thinks."

His words carried an edge of something that might have been hurt or disappointment, though I couldn’t understand why my potential date would affect him so much.

"That’s not fair," I said quietly. "You’re the one who brought up the whole mate thing in the first place. You obviously know things about my situation that you shouldn’t know. And now you’re acting like my choices don’t matter to you at all."

Nathan stared at me for a long moment, with an unreadable expression. "Your choices matter more than you realize," he said finally. "But they’re still yours to make."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

Instead of answering, he opened his car door. "I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Miss Stone."

"Nathan, wait—"

But he was already sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. I watched as he pulled out of the parking space and drove away, leaving me standing alone in the faculty lot with more questions than answers.

As I walked toward the bus stop, I found myself replaying our conversation, trying to decipher the mixed messages he’d been sending. One moment he seemed concerned about my relationships and choices, the next he was dismissing them as none of his business.

And what had he meant by saying my choices mattered more than I realized? Was that connected to whatever mysterious knowledge he knew about me?

By the time the bus arrived, I had convinced myself that Nathan Morrison was the most confusing man I’d ever encountered. He seemed to care about things he claimed not to care about, knew things he shouldn’t know, and gave advice he then pretended not to have given.

As the bus pulled away from campus, I caught a glimpse of his black sedan in my peripheral vision, stopped at a red light several blocks ahead. Even from this distance, I could see him talking animatedly on his phone, probably dealing with more pressure from his mother about the mysterious blind date.

Despite everything, I found myself hoping his gala evening would go better than he expected. And I wondered if my own decision about Jason’s invitation would somehow affect whatever complicated game Nathan had warned me I was playing.

The thought that my choice of date might have consequences beyond hurt feelings was both ridiculous and oddly terrifying. But given everything else that had happened lately, ridiculous was starting to feel like the new normal.