My Professor's Secret

10|

He briefly teeters between both feet until he finishes covering all the rolls in butter. Nothing smelled as sweet. Professor Thornton pushes the tray of rolls towards me, offering the first roll of the batch knowing I wouldn't decline.

"Completely understandable," I pause, mesmerized by the steam looming from the bread once I pulled it apart. Definitely better than Hinkhouse's recipe, something I'd never openly admit. "I figured it was inappropriate after saying it. If you want me to go, I will with absolutely no hard feelings. As long as I can take the rest of that tray of rolls."

Professor laughs then turns to stir whatever was on the stove stop. He stays quiet for a bit, contemplating his answer I suppose.

Without a shirt on underneath his apron, his back was completely nude. Fighting the urge to roam every inch of  him was impossible and after several failed attempts, I obliged to the curiosity. Even without flexing, his physique remained sculpted. The gym was certainly his best friend.

"And let the main course go to waste?" he says with his back still towards me. "That'd be a crime in itself." He turns around with his hand hovering below a spoon filled with sauce before guiding it towards my mouth to taste. "Well? Be honest."

Culinary was his calling; there was no question about it. Maybe he planned on opening his own restaurant once upon a time. Prior to fatherhood and professorship. It was definitely something he'd be able to excel in. Not that he wasn't already good at everything he could do, because he was. Truly.

"Christ. I'd definitely consider it criminal if you made me leave without another taste of that," I laugh, taking a bite of the warm roll in my hand. "You really can cook."

Professor T flashes another pretentious smile then turns back towards the stove to stir the dish.

We ate at his coffee table in the living on top of cushions on the floor like an indoor picnic. I excepted the anticipation of what we were going to discuss while we ate, but a peaceful silence sufficed until both of our plates were clear.

Following his last bite of food, he pulls his apron off his body, exposing his chest along with ink in roman numerals. 2013. It takes him less than a second to realize he'd been shirtless underneath it before pulling it on. We both stay quiet as he stands to his feet, grabbing our plates.

"If you'll excuse me?" Professor returns from the kitchen with a large bowl of popcorn. He ditched the apron for a shirt and plops beside me on the cushion. "Food seems to be our reoccurring thing. I'm hoping it'll loosen the atmosphere in here. It's not my intention to make you uncomfortable. I didn't expect to feel so... discombobulated."

Honestly, even I couldn't deny how Taylor's absence invited awkwardness.

"That just means we need to break the ice," I say, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl. "What's your stance on women's reproductive rights in regards to conception leading to abortion?"

His jaw stiffens to a halt despite the handful of popcorn he shoved in his mouth seconds ago. We eye each other for a moment in silence before he flashes a grimacing smile.

"This is a trick question if I've ever heard one," he begins, chewing whats left behind in his mouth. "Your expectation of my answer is borderline nerve wracking because this is a touchy subject and whatever I say can be misconstrued as mansplaining or men's incisive need of dominion regarding any and everything. With that being said, I have no opinion. A woman's body belongs to her and her alone. Men should mind the business that pays them. That's my final answer."

I hated that the thought crossed my mind, but professor definitely possessed a hefty energy below the belt. It was sensible.

"Dinner was amazing," I reply, standing to my feet. "It's getting pretty late though."