The sight of her sitting in the front of my classroom nearly broke my resolve to not out her to the class as the woman I was falling for.
God, she was stunning. I could feel my eyes wanting to soften as I looked at her. My hands itched to touch her—to hold her. I think a part of me had underestimated how difficult it would be to have her as my student, having to watch her a couple of feet away but not being able to do anything about it.
On Friday, when she'd told us she wanted a break, I had to be honest, it crushed me. I didn't know how it was possible to have such strong emotions for someone I hadn't known for long, but there it was. Emma had this ability to make anyone in her presence happy, and it was hard not to crave the type of happiness that she provided. So, while I didn't know how it was possible to fall for someone that quickly, it wasn't surprising, not with her.
My class hadn't begun yet; we still had ten minutes to go. Usually, I would show up right before we started, but this time, I was eager to find out if Emma would join us. She'd said she would, but it was something else to get the confirmation of seeing her in my class.
A boy sat down next to her and was quick to strike up a conversation with her. My jaw clenched when she smiled at him.
One look at the seating chart, I saw that his name was Liam.
Before the class on Monday was over, I'd told everyone that the seat they'd chosen would be their permanentseat through this semester. It wasn't something I usually did but could anyone blame me for making sure Emma would be close to me? Now, though, I realized I'd inadvertently seated this guy permanently with my girl, which I wasn't fond of.
Emma nodded at something Liam said, and my jaw clenched when I saw the guy start writing something down on the note before handing it to our girl. She accepted it.
As if she could sense my attention was on them, she withdrew slightly from him. That one action made me relax slightly. Our girl was still attuned to us, that had to mean something, right? But my eyes were zeroed in on the paper she was putting away in her pocket. There better not be a fucking phone number on it.
I started the class by reviewing the important parts we learned last Friday, summarizing the nature and essence of ethics before moving along. I enjoyed this, having my students' attention on me as I taught them something I loved. Ethics was probably my favorite subject; it was such an important thing to learn about and a vital part of life—no matter if it was used for business or in general. I think I enjoyed it the most because it was something my father lacked, and I strived to be the opposite of him in every way I could.
Throughout the fifty minutes I had them, my eyes flitted more than once to my girl. It was impossible not to. But the more I looked at her, the more changes I saw in her.
At the start of the class, I'd been so blinded by my need to see her that I hadn't actually seen her. Now that I did, I couldn't unsee it. Her shoulders were tense and raised. Her eyes were dimmed a little; some of the light in them was gone. And her head was slightly bowed down.
It hurt to notice those changes with her because I had a feeling me and the guys had something to do with it. We'd put her through a lot of heartache and betrayal this past week, and it was clearly showing in the way she held herself. She usually held herself tall, with her head high and shoulders relaxed.
When my fifty minutes were up, I sent my students off with assigned reading material that I wanted them to be done with before our next class on Friday.
Before the girls could bombard me with questions, I looked at Emma. "Ms. Fields, do you have a second?" Even if my stern voice wanted to mellow out for her, I kept my voice professional.
Emma gave me a nod and walked off to the side with me while the other students moved past. Some of the other girls hesitated before they, too, walked away, leaving us alone.
"What did you want to talk about?" she asked in her soft voice. The sound of it made me want to kiss it off her lips. Yeah...being her professor would be more challenging than I'd first thought.
"What did he give you?" I blurted out in a harsh tone before I could bite my tongue. That was not what I had planned on asking her.
Her eyes widened, taken aback by my sudden question.
"W-what?" she asked, her brows scrunched in confusion. She looked so damn cute when she was confused.
"What did Liam give you?" I repeated, now determined to know. "He handed you a piece of paper. What was on it?"
Then came the realization as her mouth gaped ever so slightly before she swallowed.
"Oh, he just...we just...he gave me his number. It's for school," she rushed to explain, looking like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have.
Damn right, she shouldn't accept numbers from guys who were clearly fucking interested in her—the fucking heart eyes he'd given her could be seen from miles away.
"For school, huh?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
Emma nodded. "Yes, for school. It's for exchanging notes and such."
"Exchanging notes? Wouldn't an email suffice? Surely that would be easier for exchanging notes."
Her brows lowered. "I suppose so. But he gave me his number, and it wasn't like I could decline it."
"Why not?"
"Because we'll sit next to each other for the entire semester. It would be awkward."
I looked towards his seat in thought before returning my attention to her. "I could move him."
She shook her head. "I don't want you to move him."
"You don't?" I asked, sounding like a damn parrot.
"No, he's comfortable sitting next to. I don't want a new person who might distract me during the seminar."
He was fucking comfortable sitting next to? The guy who's clearly flirting with her?
"Was that all?" she asked, her voice uncertain. Seems I wasn't as comfortable as Liam was...
"No," I answered, letting go of the whole Liam situation—for now. "I just wanted to check in with you and hear if you have any questions about the material."
She frowned. "I thought you said I wouldn't get any special treatment?"
A chuckle escaped me as I shook my head. "This isn't you getting special treatment. It's me being a good professor. If any of my students are having a hard time with something and I know about it, I will always make sure they're not struggling in my classes. Granted, you only missed one class, but I know how it can snowball, and I want to know that you're catching up before it becomes too much."
"Oh." She looked embarrassed; her cheeks started to glow with that sweet blush. "That's very considerate of you. I'm doing okay, though. Your notes helped a lot."
"Good." I smiled. "Please don't hesitate to contact me if you need extra help with the material or have any questions. You have my phone number, but if you're not comfortable using it for anything school related, my office hours are Tuesdays and Thursdays from twelve PM to two PM."
"Thank you, I'll remember tha—" She tensed as I heard her phone ping, but before I could register her reaction, she relaxed again. "That's probably a friend of mine. I'm supposed to meet up with her in a couple of minutes."
"Then I won't keep you any longer," I said with a hint of regret. I did want to keep her. Fuck, I was fucking obsessed with this girl, and I didn't know how I would be able to be close to her only two days a week and then simply watch her leave.
"Okay. Well, thank you again, Professor Wright. I appreciate you checking up on me." She'd said my title hesitantly, as if she wasn't sure if she should refer to me by the title of her professor or by my first name.
Hearing her call me professor made my cock twitch, which was not the appropriate time to get turned on. I'd never had a professor-student kink, but something about the way Emma's mouth formed around the words was nearly impossible to resist. It didn't help that I knew her intimately; I knew how her body responded to mine...how prettily she submitted to my will.
In a way, the relationship between a professor and a student could, to some degree, be compared to that of a dominant and a submissive. Like with a professor and a student, and with a dominant and a submissive, both relationships had a specific power dynamic where one held more power over the other.
Fuck. I forced myself away from that train of thoughts before my pants tented enough for her to notice my reaction.
Clearing my throat, I gave her a smile. "No worries. Have a good day, and I'll see you again on Friday." Which were four long days away. It was another thing to meet her twice a week when I knew I would have her for hours, but this was different. And even if I would continue to see her now, I couldn't do more than sneak a peek once in a while, while teaching. I could only hope she would forgive us soon and we could get back what we had before because this was practically torture.
"Have a good day too." She smiled back sweetly, but once again, I noticed the change in her. Her smile was strained, and not the real one she used to give me. All over again, I hated us for hurting her. We'd be lucky if she ever forgave us.
I waited until she left before gathering my stuff and returning to my office. I had a couple of hours of work before I finished the day.
My office was nothing to brag about. It had just enough space for a desk, a chair in the front of the desk and two visiting chairs at the back of it, and a shelving unit that took up an entire wall. Every piece of furniture was mahogany, while the walls were beige, and the carpeted floors were an ugly gray. But even if it was simplistic, and I didn't much care for the hideous floors, it was a place that had felt like home for years. This was where I relaxed as I worked on the syllabus and the materials for the semester. But as I sat down at my desk and booted up my computer, I felt anything but relaxed. My mind was so keenly focused on Emma that I struggled to concentrate on my job.
Emma had turned me into a completely different person in the sense that I was usually work driven—when I was at work, nothing could distract me from my tasks—but now I'd rather stay with my girl than do what I need to. I'd never been one who'd been hung up over a woman, but maybe that was because I hadn't met someone before who'd stolen not only my heart but my mind as well.
There was no secret that I was the 'emotional' guy in our friend group. I wasn't as cold as Gideon or as controlled as Callan. I didn't hide my feelings from me or my people. In fact, I embraced them. What was more non-Robert—my father—than having no emotions? Having a shit ton of it. Like I'd said, I strived to be the opposite of him.
Realizing I wouldn't be able to concentrate for shit, I decided to take my ass to the staffroom for some food and a nice cup of tea. I stopped halfway to the staffroom, hearing my sister's friend's unmistakable, high-pitched tone.
What the fuck was Jennifer doing here?
Another earlier chapter! Got another date, but wanted to ensure you guys got your chapter first x
I've seen a few who was unpleased with the last chapter, and please know I am taking the feedback to heart. This book is only on its first draft, but I am noting down whichever chapter is in need of a re-write when I start the second draft. Hopefully, you guys found this chapter more enjoyable!
Wishing you all a wonderful day (or night). Remember to take care of yourself, and stay safe <3
Next chapter will be posted 28th at 12PM (GMT), or earlier depending on my plans for the day