AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Me: That sounds like a personal problem to me.
Professor Harlo: On the contrary, It’s most definitely your problem. Someone’s going to have to kiss it better.
I grinned, staring at the screen.
Me: Is that a promise?
Professor Harlo: Fucking hell, woman.
I laughed, then threw myself back on the bed, eyes closed in bliss.
I couldn’t remember the last time I was so happy. It wasn’t just the sex, though that was real good too. No, it was him. Owen was an incredible person.
My smile slowly melted away as that proverbial cloud nine disintegrated beneath me and I fell right back down to reality. My conversations with Mom and Clea sank back in and helplessness took over.
I heard my phone ding twice more, but I didn’t touch it again. Instead, I felt my heart race as I began to think, when does this end?
Suddenly, it’s like my brain finally decided to understand the fact that I was dating a man twice my age. A man with two children. A man who was a professor while I was his student. Would I ever be more than just a secret to him?
Just days ago, I was ready to take things a day at a time, heck, an hour at a time. Now…now I needed more.
Oh God… How could I manage a life without him? Since the moment I walked in that office door and looked into his eyes, I started falling in love.
I was officially in deep, deep trouble.
Chapter 15
-Owen-
Something was going on.
One second we’re flirting and the next she stopped answering my texts.
I felt like a Goddamn fifteen year old boy whose self-esteem was tied to whether or not the pretty cheerleader texted him back.
Standing in front of my class, I found myself without the problem of a hard-on like I’d threatened her earlier. No, my own uneasiness put a real quick end to that. I found my voice empty, the words repeated from the papers I’d drawn up days ago. Since when did I lose the joy of teaching?
No, the joy wasn’t gone. My brain was just focused on other things. Rather, one other thing.
When class got out, I paused to look at my phone while the last of my students filed out. Still nothing.
“Professor Harlo,” came a soft feminine voice behind me.
I turned, seeing Darla Grey standing before me with a thin stack of papers in her hand.
“You have your makeup work?” I asked her, wondering where the hell she’d come from.
This wasn’t her class, so she’d sought me out just to hand it in.
“You had four more days,” I told her, still not taking the papers from her.
“I know. I finished them early.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m looking forward to reading them on Friday.”
She blinked up at me, not lowering the papers. We just stood there in silence until Miss Grey’s cheeks turned pink and she finally took the papers back and pressed them to her chest.
“I suggest you take the next few days to go over your work. Your scholarship here relies on it.”
