Please Harder, Professor

Chapter 169

Bellamy’s POV

The apartment felt too quiet after weeks of Sophie's laughter, Amelia's cries, the constant hum of life that had filled Adrian's place. Now it was just me and Noah again, and the silence pressed down like a weight I couldn't shake.

"Daddy, can we have mac and cheese?" Noah asked from his spot on the living room floor, surrounded by his toy trucks. "The kind Miss Sophie makes?"

I stirred the pasta on the stove, trying not to think about how many times I'd stood in Adrian's kitchen doing exactly this while Sophie sat at the counter with Amelia.

"We can have mac and cheese, buddy, but it's just going to be regular mac and cheese. I don't know Miss Sophie's special recipe."

"Oh." He sounded genuinely disappointed. "Okay."

What was I thinking? The question had been circling my mind like a vulture since that moment on the balcony. I'd kissed Sophie. Actually kissed her.

Crossed every professional line that existed, betrayed my oldest friend's trust, and put her in an impossible position—all because I couldn't keep my feelings locked down for one more goddamn minute.

I'd replayed the moment a thousand times.

The way she'd looked in the moonlight, talking about her fears and hopes for the future. The vulnerability in her voice. The way she'd leaned into me, just slightly, and I'd taken it as permission when it was probably just exhaustion.

And then Adrian had appeared, warm and grateful and completely oblivious, thanking me for taking care of his family while calling me his brother. Asking me to be his best man.

I gripped the edge of the stove, fighting the wave of self-loathing that threatened to pull me under.

"Daddy?" Noah's voice pulled me back. "When are we going back to see Miss Sophie and baby Amelia?"

I turned off the burner and crouched down to Noah's level. His face was so open, so hopeful, completely unaware of the mess his father had created.

"We're not staying there anymore, bud," I said gently. "We're back home now. This is where we live, remember?"

"But I liked it there." His lower lip jutted out. "I liked playing with baby Amelia. And Miss Sophie read me stories. And she made the good mac and cheese."

"I know you did, and we can still visit sometimes. But Miss Sophie has her own family now—her and Mr. Adrian and Amelia. They need their space."

"But you said we were helping them."

"We were, and now they don't need as much help anymore. That's a good thing."

Noah considered this with the serious expression he got when processing something he didn't quite understand.

"Okay," he finally said, though he still looked disappointed. "Can we at least visit baby Amelia soon?"

"Maybe," I said, though the thought of walking back into that apartment, of being near Sophie while pretending nothing had happened, made my chest tight. "We'll see."

My phone rang before I could spiral further. Adrian's name flashed on the screen.

My stomach dropped. This was it. He knew. Someone had seen us on the balcony, or Sophie had confessed, or Adrian's instincts had finally caught up with reality. I stared at the phone for three rings, debating whether to answer or let it go to voicemail.

But avoiding him would only make things worse.

"Adrian," I answered, keeping my voice steady. "What's up?"

"Bellamy, thanks for picking up." His voice was calm, professional—no trace of anger or accusation. "I need your help with something. Are you free to talk?"

Relief and confusion warred in my chest. "Yeah, I'm free. What's going on?"

"We've got a security situation. Someone's making anonymous threats about the 'Masks & Submission' footage—trying to blackmail Sophie and me. They're claiming they have copies that were never confiscated during the initial scandal, and they're threatening to leak them unless we pay."

I moved into the kitchen, lowering my voice so Noah wouldn't overhear. "How credible are the threats?"

"Credible enough to worry about. They've sent screenshots that match footage I know existed. Either they actually have the files, or they have access to someone who does."

Adrian sighed heavily. "I need help tracking down the source. Your background in security, your contacts—I'm hoping you can help me figure out who this is before they make good on their threats."

"Of course," I said immediately, my protective instincts overriding everything else. "I can start looking into it tonight. Send me everything you have—the messages, the screenshots, any metadata you can pull from the communications."

"I will. Thank you, Bellamy. Really." There was genuine gratitude in his voice, which only made the guilt twist deeper.

"I should clarify though,” Something’s keeps nagging me. “Shall I continue as Sophie's security detail, or are we talking about a separate consultation for this specific issue?"

“Would you like to continue?”

The question hung in the air. This was my out. I could say this was separate, could start extracting myself from their lives, could put distance between myself and Sophie before I made things worse.

But if I pulled back now, Sophie would have to explain to Adrian why I'd suddenly decided to stop being her bodyguard. She'd have to lie or tell the truth, and either option would hurt her.

"Yes," I heard myself say. "Sophie trusts me, and that continuity is important, especially with a blackmail threat active. No reason to change what's working."

"That's exactly what I was thinking." Adrian's relief was audible. "Right now, trust is the most valuable thing we have. I know Sophie feels safe with you around, and that matters more than anything."

The weight of those words settled on my shoulders like concrete. Trust. The thing I'd betrayed the moment I kissed his fiancée.

"When do you want to meet?" I asked, desperate to move the conversation forward. "I can come by tomorrow, or we could meet somewhere neutral if you prefer."

"Tomorrow works. Come by around ten—Sophie has morning classes, so we'll have privacy to discuss this without worrying her. She's already stressed enough with the wedding planning and her coursework."

"Understood. I'll be there at ten."

"Thanks, Bellamy. I mean it. I don't know what I'd do without you."

The irony of that statement was almost funny. Almost.

After we hung up, I stood in my kitchen staring at the phone in my hand. Noah was still playing with his trucks in the living room, making engine noises and creating elaborate scenarios involving traffic jams and rescue missions.

I was trapped. Completely, utterly trapped by my own actions.

I couldn't walk away without Sophie having to explain why. Couldn't maintain appropriate distance without raising questions. Couldn't refuse to help Adrian track down a blackmailer who was threatening the woman I—

No. I couldn't even finish that thought.

I'd have to keep seeing Sophie. Keep driving her to campus, keep standing guard while she attended classes, keep watching her build a life with Adrian while I pretended that kiss never happened. Keep my feelings locked down so deep that no one—not Adrian, not Sophie, not even myself—could see them anymore.

It was going to be torture. Pure, exquisite torture. But I'd brought this on myself. I'd crossed that line, made that choice, and now I had to live with the consequences.

"Daddy!" Noah called from the living room. "The mac and cheese is getting cold!"

I shook myself out of my spiral and went to serve dinner, forcing a smile for my son. Noah deserved better than a father who couldn't get his shit together. And Sophie deserved better than having to navigate the mess I'd created.

Professional distance. That was the plan. I'd do my job, nothing more. I'd protect Sophie and Amelia because that's what I was paid to do, not because of feelings I had no right to have.

I could do this. I had to do this.

Even if it killed me.