The Professor (Forbidden Encounters 1)

Slowly, I turn around. “Hi, Ms. Carpenter.” Sharon Carpenter, the English professor beams at me. The thirty something woman has been trying to get me to go out with her for two years now.

“Call me Sharon.” She slaps my arm.

I hate it when she does that. My gaze drops to the spot she touched and my teeth clench. She’s worse than the female students who try tirelessly to get my attention every day. Considering that she’s older than most of my students, you’d think she’d know how to take a hint. I’m certain I’ve never given her any indication that I’m interested. The woman irritates me because I know her angle. She’s more interested in my status as the mayor’s son.

Still, I force out a smile. “Sharon. How are you?” My mother will turn over in her grave if I ever disrespect a woman.

“I’m good. I missed you at the pub yesterday.”

“Yeah, I had things to take care of.” A few of the staff usually go out for drinks at a nearby bar. I try to join them once in a while. I’ve been dodging the get together more lately, however. I’m always bombarded with questions about what the mayor has planned or with requests to meet him. Everyone has an agenda, except Abby. She’s a genuine soul. Why did I leave her the way I did? I’ve been drowning in regret for days.

“You’ll join us this evening, right?”

“I’m afraid, I can’t.”

“My, you’re keeping scarce.” She laughs again.

She laughs way too much. “Busy.” My eyes dart around the parking lot for any sign of Abby.

“Too busy to join me for dinner sometime? I make a mean pot roast.”

My eyes snap to her face. Well. Shit. This is the first time she’s ever been so bold by inviting me to her place. Usually, she just drops hints that she wants me to ask her out.

“I can’t.” What’s the best way to turn her down without hurting her feelings? “We’re colleagues,” is the best I can come up with. Very hypocritical since I’m seeing a student...who I almost had sex with on her couch. Who I very much still intended to have sex with. I blow out a breath, as images of Abby lying on her couch, moaning my name surfaces. Those memories have led to many cold showers and jacking off over the last few days.

Sharon’s smile dims. “I know but it’s just dinner.”

“I’d prefer to keep things professional.”

She sighs. “Bryce, I’ve been dropping hints for a while.”

I know. For two fucking years.

Maintaining my plastic smile, I shrug. “It just won’t work, Sharon.”

She rests a palm on my chest and leans closer. I frown. Jesus. She’s really getting touchy feely in the campus parking lot. I resist the urge to push her hand off of me. “We can keep things... just between us for now.”

A secret romance. Sorry, lady. I already have one of those going.

Clearing my throat, I say, “Look, Sharon…”

I catch movement in my periphery. Wide-eyed, I turn to see Abby gazing at Sharon and me. She has a pile of textbooks clutched to her chest. She’s a few feet away, but I see her expression crumble.

Horrified, I watch her duck her head and scurry off. She disappears into a white Toyota and starts the engine. She doesn’t even wait for the car to warm up before peeling out of the lot. Sharon and I standing close together with her hand on my chest looks bad.

“You were saying?” She bats her eyelashes.

“I have to go. It’s a no for dinner.”

Her smile drops, but I dive into my car before she says another word. Dialing Abby, I pray that she picks up. Straight to voicemail. She declined my call. With a growl, I toss the wretched phone, not caring where it lands.

When I get my hands on Abby again, I’m never going to let her go.

And she’s going to have to get over it, stop fucking fighting me, and let me in.

She will let me love her like she deserves.

Chapter Thirteen