The Dating Lesson

“So, a lawyer, huh?” she says as she takes a bite of her poppy seed muffin. Even her coffee is as wild as she is with six shots of espresso and black as night compared to my vanilla latte with extra sweet cream.

“That’s the plan anyway. I’ve been working my whole life to get good grades in school. Valedictorian of junior high, high school, and community college.”

Brenna laughs. “They have a valedictorian for junior high and community college?”

“Yep. I even got the presidential award.” Now it just sounds like I’m bragging, but I’m proud of my accomplishments.

“What about your boyfriend or girlfriend—whatever your preference is—how did they feel about you being such a bookworm?”

“Never really had time for relationships.”

She raises a pierced eyebrow. “So you’re a prude?” she says jokingly.

I can see why it looks that way. Clearly she didn’t realize I had a vibrator inside of me and was about to come while she stood in front of me last night. I’m far from a prude, and if she saw the videos and texts I was sending Leo last night, she would know. But I shrug and let her think what she wants. I don’t need piercings and fishnets to be wild.

“What about you?” I ask. “Any significant other?”

She gives me a coy smile. “I get around. I’m not looking for anything serious. I’ve got enough going on with my course work, and besides, these are my prime years. I’m just trying to have fun. There will be plenty of time to get serious later on.”

We talk about school. I’m surprised to learn she’s a graduate student in biology, focusing on botany. But then she tells me her goal is to own a marijuana dispensary and natural apothecary one day, and it starts to make sense. She’s also taken a couple of classes in the law school, since her future the marijuana business is regulated so tightly, and she needs to have some understanding of the law. We talk a bit about professors and classes. We don’t have much else in common, and yet we get along. I don’t think we’ll ever hang out socially, but at least I don’t feel like we’ll have any conflicts or issues living together. She takes her schoolwork fairly seriously, I guess, and since she’s here on a scholarship, I know she at least had to have the grades and drive to earn that. And she’ll need to keep her grades up if she wants to maintain the scholarship. As long as she doesn’t get in my way, I won’t get in hers.

I look at my watch and realize there are only five minutes until my first class starts.

“Oh my God,” I say, not realizing we’ve been sitting here for almost an hour. “I’m going to be late.”

“Where’s your first class?” Brenna asks.

“Greyson Building.”

“You better run, then. That’s all the way on the other side of the campus.”

“Shit!” I say, grabbing up my cup and making a quick dash to the door. “I’ll see you later,” I shout over my shoulder as I start hightailing it across the quad.

People stare at me as I run across campus. I’m glad I chose to wear my Vans instead of dressing up a little and wearing the cute little kitten heels I considered this morning. I make it to the building and search through my bag for my schedule, trying to figure out which lecture hall my class is in. The building is massive! I dash up the stairs taking them two by two, and sprint down the hall until I see the large oak doors to the hall. I’m eight minutes late. I feel miserable. I hate being late for anything, and the first class? This is horrible.

I take a deep breath, smooth down my hair, and walk in, hoping my late entrance can go unnoticed. But as soon as I walk through the door, everyone shifts in their seats and looks straight at me. I look around at all the people making eye contact with me and want to shrink into the background.

“Good morning,” says a deep, powerful voice from the lectern at the front of the lecture hall. I look at the man and my heart cartwheels in my chest.

No. It can’t be.

Oh God, it is.

My professor is tall and gorgeous with deep-set green eyes and a head of thick chestnut hair. He’s none other than Big-Dick Leo, the man who has not only been sexting me for the last few days, but also made me come hard last night watching a video of him jerking off. This can’t be happening. Is it possible he won’t recognize me?

“Take a seat, please,” he says with a hint of irritation. I must have interrupted his lecture. This is humiliating. How is this even possible? I have the worst luck! I hang my head and walk down the middle aisle, looking left and right for a seat that I can slide into easily. Finally I see an open seat that won’t require too many people to stand up to let me pass, and I mumble excuse me a few times as I slide past the other students to take my seat. I try to slouch down in my seat and become invisible, but I mustn’t be inconspicuous enough because Leo’s eyes remain on me. I can feel his gaze burning my skin. Luckily, the rest of the class seems to move on and they totally forget about the flaky girl who strolled in late. That is, everyone except the boy sitting next to me.