The Professor's Girl | 18+ | COMPLETE |

+ chapter 16 +

Kahlan walked me to my car across the lamp-lit parking lots. My legs were still shaking, and the moment we were past the last campus building, he wrapped his arm around me. My eyes widened a moment, and I almost tripped over my own feet.

"Careful," he murmured, holding me a little tighter, chuckling at me. "Do you think you'll be able to drive?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." I almost immediately regretted answering in the affirmative. Perhaps if I said no, he would have driven me himself. I really wasn't looking forward to parting from him.

All too soon we reached my car. He didn't release me at first, instead moving me in front of him so that I was leaned back against the car. His hands explored over my body, but teasingly avoided my breasts. He stroked up my neck and held my chin, tipping my face up to him.

"I enjoy you too much, Liz," he said softly. "I really shouldn't be enjoying you at all."

I smirked at him. "Forbidden pleasures are the best right?"

He leaned down and chastely kissed my cheek. "That's the problem. It isn't just that you're forbidden." He held my eyes for a moment as he pulled away, his eyes intense with a longing I had not expected. "Drive safely. I'll see you in class tomorrow."

He left me standing there stunned. Had he really been implying that he enjoyed me as more than just a fling? But this wasn't supposed to be serious . . . there wasn't supposed to be feelings . . .

I got in my car, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. That was the problem wasn't it . . . he was too good. Too appealing. As determined as I was not to fall for him – not to fall for anyone, let alone my own professor! – here I was, with my chest aching, wishing I could invite him back to my place. Wishing I could have him stay with me through the night.

I felt like slapping myself. I didn't even want to think that way. I was in no position to start getting feelings. I'd spent two years wasting my time loving someone. I wasn't going to make that mistake again. At least . . . not for a while.

I started my car, and flicked on my headlights. As I did, they fell upon the car parked a couple of rows over from me. It took me a moment to realize who the occupant was, his look of absolute disgust making me catch my breath.

It was Jay, and he had seen me with Kahlan.

I lagged before going into class the next day, hopping that Jay would get there first and I could get in without attracting any attention. At the same time, I told myself I was silly for even worrying. Jay had no claim to me, he had been the one to break it off. But that look of disgust on his face was unforgettable. He had been furious. I had no doubt that he had recognized Kahlan. Was he psychotic enough to report it? To make Kahlan lose his job and possibly his hopes of graduating?

The idea made me sick. I had to play it cool. I couldn't let him see me walk in scared.

Jay did get into the classroom before me. When I walked in, his eyes made awkward contact with mine almost immediately. I looked away, but not quickly enough. Crap, he knew, he really knew. Knowing him, he wasn't going to let it go.

Once seated, I got out my notes and pretended nothing was wrong. I wrote down every bit of information on the slideshow, my hand cramping at my furious pace. Several times I glanced up to see Kahlan watching me, and my stomach tightened. I could be about to cost him everything.

I couldn't stand it. I couldn't let that happen.

The moment class ended, I bolted for the door. On my way up the stairs I heard a quick, "Miss Lizbeth?" from Kahlan. I didn't even pause as I glanced back and said, "Sorry Mr. Travis, I have to get to my next class."

I felt awful for blowing him off. But if Jay saw me lingering to talk to him again, it would only spur him on if he was already feeling tempted to report this. Could they really fire Kahlan for this? After all, all Jay had actually seen was a kiss on the cheek. Kahlan was still technically a student on campus, could they hold him responsible for simply dating someone else at his own school?

Of course they can. This was the kind of crap scandals were made of.

I knew I had to tell Kahlan we had been seen. But every time I opened my phone to message him, I couldn't manage to do it. What if he decided things had gotten too risky and didn't want to see me again?

That's exactly what you signed up for, stupid. I had told him from the very beginning I didn't want this to be serious. Casual, emotionless, easy sex. If one of us decided to break it off and go our own way, that wasn't supposed to be a big deal. So how the hell had it turned out that I was sitting here worrying about him protecting his own job by not seeing me anymore?

Maybe it doesn't have to be like that. We would just have to be more cautious. Only meet off campus. Not be seen with each other. That was doable.

Except we had already been seen. If Jay wanted to do something about it, we didn't have to be caught again.

He doesn't have proof. Surely the officials aren't just going to go off the word of a jealous ex-boyfriend. If we both denied it, who were they more likely to believe?

I was still stressing when I got home that night. I flopped onto the couch, letting out a heavy sigh. I still hadn't texted Kahlan, and began to think that this conversation would be more appropriate to have in a call. Charles hopped up next to me and rubbed his big fluffy body across me, as if trying to comfort me with soft fur and kitty purrs. I scratched along his back, stalling.

"What do I do Charlie?" I said. He gave a little mrrow? in response. "What if he won't see me anymore?"

I imagined Charles' response would be, "Then that would be for the best. If you care for something, let it go. Your individual futures are far more important than temporary pleasures. Have the respect to communicate with him what has happened, so that he may make the choice on his own."

I could interpret a lot into cat meows. My future as a crazy cat lady was confirmed.

I was out of wine, so even my liquid courage had run out. With my heart in my throat, I picked up my phone and called him. One ring. Then two. Then three. It just kept ringing. I tapped my foot impatiently.

Come on, Kahlan. Now isn't the time to not answer your phone. My call went through to voicemail. Frustrated, I tossed my phone onto the couch and tried to breathe myself into relaxation. There was nothing either of us could do about it tonight anyway. I would just have to try again tomorrow.

But that also meant worrying about it until then.

I had been staring blankly at Netflix for almost an hour when my phone buzzed. It was Kahlan, apologizing for missing my call and saying he had been in a meeting. I breathed a sigh of relief to hear back from him, but now I had to actually put together the words . . .

I asked him if I could call, saying we needed to talk. He responded that he was driving, and would call me when he could. The waiting game was killing me. I began to question myself, wondering if I was making a bigger deal than I needed to.

Almost 20 minutes passed, and my phone finally rang. My hands were shaking when I picked it up.

"Hi, Kahlan," I said, realizing how tense my voice sounded.

"Hi, Liz. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"It's fine. Listen, there's something we really have to talk about-"

"Wait – hold on a second –" There was a shuffling sound, like he was moving plastic bags around. "Open your door first."

I stared at my front door. No way. I opened it like I was anticipating a serial killer. Kahlan stood there, hanging up his phone, carrying a plastic Wal-Greens bag. He smiled that crooked, uncertain smile that gave me flutters in an entirely different way than his usual, devilish grin did.

"What . . . what are you doing here?" I asked, in disbelief.