To Professor, With Love (Forbidden Men 2)

“God help me.” He shuddered and I watched some of his resistance crack. “I do love you. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, but—”

“But that’s all I need,” I reassured him. Touching his face lightly, I repeated, “Believe me, I can get a job anywhere. It doesn’t have to be at the university or even community college level. I just like trying to fill people with the same appreciation of literature that I have. I will find work wherever I am. But I won’t find another you. I don’t want to leave you.”

He folded. His shoulders fell and his body slumped into mine as his lips caught my temple. “I don’t want you to leave either.”

“Then it’s settled. We’re all staying.”

Noel kissed me again. “I love you. I love you so much. I don’t know how I could ever prove to you how much I love you.”

He’d already proven it. No one had ever loved me the way he did. With every word and gesture, he showed me his feelings, and I relished each and every moment with him. He’d taught me what it was to love and be loved. He’d unleashed my inner child and helped me live in the moment. But he’d also given me a future to look forward to. It might be uncertain, but I couldn’t wait to start it. With him.

I knew he’d tell me about what had happened with his siblings while I was away, just as I’d tell him about my parents. We had a lot to discuss, but I had a feeling we’d have plenty of time to talk about all that.

Later.

For now, I was too excited to know we’d actually have a later. So, I kissed him back and relished the present.

EPILOGUE

“Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.” - Dr. Seuss

~ASPEN~

“We start on To Kill a Mockingbird on Monday, which happens to be one of my favorite books, so if anyone wants to impress me, just do well on the essays for this story. Got it?”

When half the class groaned, I shook my head and grinned. There would always be the naysayers, but I usually found one or two people who loved literature as much as I did. And that’s why I kept teaching, and why I kept coming back each day, excited to share my appreciation with them. I relished reaching students like the girl in the back corner who sat in a wheelchair as she eagerly listened to all my thoughts about the last story we’d just read.

I opened my mouth to tell my sophomore class how I sensed they weren’t as enthusiastic to start the story as I was, but the bell rang, interrupting me. I still jumped every time that happened. It was one of the few things I missed about teaching at the college level. B

ut other than that, I was extremely content here.

“Have a good weekend,” I called above the blare of my students gathering their things and making plans with their friends.

For once, I was glad they were eager to leave, because so was I. This was my last class for the day, and I was anxious to check in with Noel to see how his day had gone.

I started sweeping up everything I wanted to take home with me when I saw someone approaching my desk from the corner of my eye.

Setting his hands on his hips and scowling from a familiar pair of periwinkle blue eyes, he hissed, “I can’t believe you just gave me a C on that paper. What the hell, Aspen?”

I sighed. “Brandt—”

“I mean, I know you said you weren’t going to show favoritism if I took your class, but really? A C? I actually tried to do a good job.”

I knew I shouldn’t because he was genuinely upset, but I smiled fondly at the memory this conversation brought. “And yet you completely missed the point of the assignment,” I had to tell him.

He opened his mouth to zing something back at me. He was too much like his brother not to fight back. But a pair of passing girls caught both of our attention as they giggled.

“Oh, my God, did you see the new Econ teacher? He is so hot.”

Brandt groaned as the other girl crowded in close to her friend and grasped her arm. “I know. I wonder what his name is, ’cause I want to enroll in that class.”

“Hell, yeah. I heard he’s the new football coach, too.”

“He is,” Brandt finally spoke up, startling them into breaking up their gossip session. When they lifted their faces and found Brandt Gamble speaking to them, they halted in their tracks and gaped openly.

I’d heard one girl last week call my brother-in-law the sophomore dreamboat, so I guess the girls must’ve been frozen with awe to find themselves under the dreamboat’s attention.

He sent them a knowing smirk. “And his name’s Gamble.” He gave a dramatic pause, waiting for it to kick in and the girls to gasp with realization before he added, “he’s my brother.”