His Prize Pupil

Several beats pass. “You won’t even look at me.”

The anguish in his tone brings my head up, my eyes zeroing in on his face to see he looks just as exhausted as I do. Worse, even. His face was clean shaven yesterday for the first day of class, but it’s covered in scruff now. I shouldn’t be wondering what those coarse whiskers would feel like rasping on my breasts, but my lady parts are apparently behind the wheel here. “How did the vote go?”

“It went how I’d hoped it would,” he says, offering nothing more.

Meaning he was voted in. Meaning the fact that he can’t be with me goes double now. I hate myself for the weight of disappointment in my belly. It’s selfish and immature. “Congratulations,” I manage. “I’m sure you worked very hard for it.”

He doesn’t respond to that, continuing to watch me in that intense way of his. The way I once mistook for obsession. But it can’t be or he wouldn’t have let me go. He wouldn’t have been able to. And anyway, do I want him to be obsessed with me?

No way.

It would be super annoying to have this sexy professor who kisses like a God and loves photography chasing me around. No thank you.

Real convincing, Alana.

“You’re living off campus.” Not a question. A statement of fact. “Is that right?”

“Yes. With my best friend Ripley.”

A line forms between his brows. “Do you need help paying rent, Alana?”

“No,” I say firmly, surprised he would ask. If Ripley’s father wasn’t footing the whole bill and I was required to pay rent, would Gavin actually give me the money? I should be outraged by the very suggestion. But instead I feel cared for. Like he wants to make sure I’m safe.

He’s just being nice. Stop reading into it.

With purpose, I straighten my shoulders and command myself to be friendly. It’s nobody’s fault that fate decided to be a jerk. He didn’t know he was going to be my professor. Expecting him to give up his dreams for me is ludicrous. Furthermore, I’m a photography major and he runs the department, so I’m going to be seeing a lot more of him. Best to set a friendly tone now. Grin and bear it, like a big girl. “Rip’s dad is a really strict judge back home. He sentences criminals to death row like he’s popping vitamins. So we’re in a gated community with tight security.”

“Good.”

“Yeah?” I shoot him a skeptical nose twitch. “I don’t know. I was kind of hoping for the whole college dorm experience. We’re skipping the irresponsible part and veering right into adulthood. Soon I’ll be carrying around a briefcase like you.”

That surprises a deep, rich roll of laughter out of him that makes my toes curl in my sandals. “A briefcase is what makes someone an adult?”

“It’s one of them.” I pretend to fuss with my camera, but in actuality, looking at his beautiful face outlined by the sun is making me want to snap a picture and I think that would step past the boundary I’m trying to set here. “Other things that makes someone an adult are credit cards that earn airline miles and an open container of baking soda in their fridge. I bet you have both.”

“Shit. You got me.” His amusement is making him look less tired, and I love that I have something to do with it. If things were different, causing this man to laugh would be my favorite part of every day. I hold his smile for a perfect moment, but as we keep eye contact, the air changes. His energy changes. Heat filters into his eyes. Thick, unruly heat.

Gavin looks like he’s about to say something else when my name is called from the steps of the nearest building. It’s two of the male students I met earlier this week. Backpacks slung over their shoulders, they’re descending the stairs into the quad. One of them waves at me, the other one—Landen, I think—looks…kind of annoyed to see me sitting with our professor. What’s up with that?

“Hey,” I call, shooting them both a quick wave.

“Party tonight at our place,” Landen calls, and I don’t remember his voice being that deep. Is he trying to make it sound lower? He holds up his phone. “Everyone is going to be there. I’ll text you the details.”

Gavin growls, for my ears alone, and a prickle of unease ghosts over my skin.

I smile tightly at the guys, hoping they’ll take the hint and leave. “Sure, thanks.”

Though Landen looks reluctant, his friend pulls him along toward the east side of the campus, leaving me and Gavin in a heavy silence. For some reason, I find myself looking down and studying my knees, as if waiting to be chastised. It requires no thought. I simply do it on autopilot. As the tense silence stretches between us, shame and excitement form a foreign mixture in my belly, warming and spreading to my thighs.