My Professor: A Nora Heat Novella - Page 17

16

Cole

I flipped my wrist and checked my watch for the third time. Where is she?

I sat back against the seat I was in, trying to relax, but it was impossible. During the previous three days of school, I hadn’t gotten a moment to speak to her the way I wanted. I was too nervous to call because she told me she had a dorm-mate and too busy to text because I had so many essays to read and grade before the trip. Plus, there were administration meetings every day. I’d been swamped. We did text here and there about the trip and things we could do together, but the conversation wasn’t as deep as I’d wanted it to be.

Still, we had a chance to talk here and now, and for the next three days. I couldn’t help thinking that maybe she’d changed her mind about this whole thing. It would have been understandable. She hardly knew me, and I was her fucking professor for Christ’s sake. It was highly unprofessional of me to even be doing what I was doing with her, and she was probably thinking something along the same lines.

My heart dropped as I thought about all the ways she could have destroyed my life. I’d kissed her twice on campus. I was texting her. She had proof, screenshots—and everyone in this world who owns a phone and could text knows screenshots live forever. With one simple move, she could end me, and I had been foolish enough to give her that power.

I tapped my foot on the ground, peering around the waiting area.

A woman spoke into the intercom. “Now boarding Blue Sky Airlines for flight 323 to Orlando, Florida.”

“Fuck. Where are you Zara?”

I really, really hoped she hadn’t changed her mind. Or worse, that guilt hadn’t caught up to her and she was spilling the truth to someone she figured she could trust.

People walked around me to get to the boarding line as I scanned the area with my gaze.

The woman spoke into the intercom again, giving her last call, and I was getting nervous. Whether she was coming or not, I couldn’t miss this flight. I’d paid a lot of money for it and had an agent to prepare for.

I turned and picked up my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. Then I dug into my back pocket for my phone, hoping to see a text or missed call from Zara. Nothing was there.

I thought to text her, but what good would it do? One thing my mother had said to me that always rang true was if someone really wanted to be a part of your life, they would be. She said this in regard to my father, who had left us without a word. It crushed us both, and when she saw my tears, she didn’t soothe me, didn’t comfort me, didn’t say nice things. She basically told me to get over it—to grow up and accept that he wasn’t coming back and I was my own man now.

With those words lingering in my mind, I sighed and made my way toward the end of the line.

“Cole!” I heard someone shout.

I peered over my shoulder.

“Cole!”

My eyes found the voice, and when I saw who it was, I couldn’t fight the smile that spread across my face. Zara was rushing in my direction, dragging a purple polka-dotted suitcase along with her. She waved her hand to get my attention, and when our eyes connected, a wide, beautiful smile stretched across her lips and the tension in my chest and shoulders melted right away.

As I watched her run toward me in her pink dress, I drowned in relief. I had never, in all my life, felt this way before—so happy to see another person, so relieved that there was someone I could rely on, someone who refused to let me down, even when circumstances were difficult and immoral, even.

She caught up to me and huffed a breath before saying, “Sorry I’m so late.”

“You had me a little worried.” I chuckled.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“I just got a little nervous in the bathroom,” she confessed. “But I’m here now.”

“You don’t have to be nervous with me, Zara. I know this is unusual for us. I’m glad you decided to come, though.”

She smiled. “I put in my contacts for you. I wasn’t going to miss it.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” And I was. I’d never felt my heart beating so hard and so fast over someone else’s appearance. She did things to me, indescribable things that made me question my own morals.

I turned my hand over so my palm was facing up, and she looked down at it before meeting my eyes.

I smiled. She smiled back then focused on my hand again and placed hers in mine. I wrapped my hand around hers and squeezed it.

Tags: Shanora Williams Romance
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