“No.” Finally she speaks.
“So you’re Jessica from…”
“Not Jessica.” Her face is no longer pink, but a bright red. “I’m Abigale from...here.”
So she lied. I’m a little pissed. But should I really be? Maybe she was just trying to protect herself because she didn’t know me. I was just a stranger on the beach. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I nod. “Okay. Abigale what?”
Her teeth sink into her lower lip, distracting me. I can’t stop my gaze from drifting to the plump, tempting flesh.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I’ll find out, anyway. You’re in my class.” Even if she wasn’t, it wouldn’t be hard.
“Not anymore.”
“So you’re going to drop my class?”
“Yes,” she hisses and looks around. “This is beyond awkward, okay?”
I can’t deny that it is. Blowing out a breath, I tell her, “You don’t have to do that. Drop my class, I mean.”
“Wel
l, I shoved my tongue down your throat only to find out that you’re my professor so, yeah, I kinda have to.”
My lips twitch. There’s that sarcastic sense of humor I detected when we met. The magnetism between us is quickly overriding the knowledge that she’s my student. Now, I’m happy that I’ve run into her. “How long have you lived in Oak Valley, Abigale?”
Her eyes round to the size of small saucers, and she gives our surroundings another sweep. There are students mulling around, but no one is paying much attention to us. “Seriously? You want to stand in the middle of campus and have small talk?”
“Why not?” I shrug. “For all anyone knows, you’re asking me questions about my class.”
She releases a long breath and rolls her eyes. “Can’t you just forget we ever met and leave me alone?”
I really wish I could. But she’s stuck in my head. “No. So, how long have you lived here?”
“I can’t believe this,” she grumbles. “All my life.”
I can’t believe she’s been right here in Oak Valley all along, and I’ve never laid eyes on her. “Where have you been hiding?”
Her derisive snort has me raising a brow. “On the other side of the tracks, teach.” She gives me a once over. “The chances of us meeting before now were slim. You don’t even know what the west side looks like.”
Ah, so she’s from the other side of town. “So much judgement in your tone. How do you know I’ve never been to the west side?”
A small smile lifts her lips, but I detect no humor. She angles her chin to my left wrist. “People from my world don’t rock Rolexes. Unless it’s stolen.”
She’s glaring at me, so I glare back. For goodness’s sake, why are we glaring? Pulling in a breath, I relax my stance. I got so tense because her energy became so defensive, which I don’t understand. I don’t give a shit where she’s from. “Can we meet up somewhere else to talk? Somewhere more private?”
She scoffs. “Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
She shakes her head, her face twisting into a severe scowl. “Just stay away from me, Professor Marshall. It will be in your best interest if you do.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Listen, you’ll find out and you’ll be thankful. Okay? A girl like me and a guy like you, we don’t make sense. And now you’re a professor here? Come on, Bry— Professor Marshall. Think about this.”
I hate that she corrects herself. I love the way my name sounds on her lips.