13. Thank you, fate, really. You're helping out so much.

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"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth."

― Jess C. Scott, The Intern

Chapter Thirteen

Was fate playing jokes on me?

If so, it must be having a blast at my reaction. I stopped breathing, moving, even blinking. My mouth was hanging opened as I stared at the handsome man in front of me.

He was my teacher? Really?

Talk about getting over a break-up or whatever happened between us. It wasn't that clear for me.

Thank you, fate, really. You're helping out so much.

More people kept entering the classroom, chatting casually, some holding books to their chests. Evan was still gazing at me, smirking devilishly at me.

Was he teaming up with fate?

When he finally looked away, I found my breath. I closed my mouth, squeezing my hands on my lap nervously. The classroom was full in a few seconds but I couldn't care less. I couldn't keep my eyes off the sexy teacher sitting behind that desk. What was he doing here anyway? He'd never mentioned teaching extra-courses in my town. Was this a new job or something? It had to be.

Evan leaned on the desk, folding his arms across his chest. And that was when he started the class. He looked beyond hot in that formal outfit. He moved around, looking so natural and confident. My eyes were on his every movement. I watched the way his back muscles flex when he wrote something on the board, the way he rolled his lower lip inside his mouth when he was trying to rephrase something. I could get glimpses of his tattoo every once in a while. He looked older, wiser but still kept that mysterious aura around him. The passion in his eyes was unmistakable, he loved talking about literature. He obviously didn't spare me a glance and somehow I was thankful for it. If those dark eyes met mine, I would lose my breath again.

Someone sighed behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see a girl, my age, staring dreamily at him.

Guess I'm not the only one crushing on our teacher.

A pang of jealousy crossed me. And it only grew worse when I took a look around and realized there were at least four girls gawking at my boyfriend, ex-boyfriend or whatever he was. Nevertheless, I eased my inner demons because I couldn't blame them. Evan was hot. Who was I to judge the female population for drooling over the handsome, clean-cut, well-proportioned, sexy man in front of us? Not to mention, he was our teacher which made him forbidden and more appealing to the misbehaving ladies.

He was like that bar of chocolate you cannot eat because your sugar levels are up high and you find yourself wanting it more and more.

Did I just compare Evan to a bar of chocolate?

If he were to be something edible, he'd be a huge bag of Ruffles for me.

I licked my lips, I could eat him all. You should say that to him, I bet he'd forgive you, my conscious said suggestively. I shut it, feeling indecent.

"Am I boring you, Ms. Jones?" Evan's seductive voice caught my attention. I lifted my gaze to find him right in front of my seat.

He's too close. I can smell his delicious perfume.

I swallowed, "No," his dark eyes were too intense, too mysterious. I hadn't seen him for a week and I was back to feeling all clumsy and sweaty around him.

"Good," he placed his hand on my desk, leaning to his side in a carefree manner. His eyes bored into mine, making my heart beat faster. I couldn't bear the intensity of those eyes. I lowered my gaze to his chest, counting its buttons, "Ms. Jones is new to this class, so she doesn't know what's the punishment of not paying attention," What? I looked up at him to find him looking around the classroom, "Can someone enlighten her for me?"

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