“I owe you then.”
“Well.” I shut the door behind me. “There is one thing.”
She lifted a brow. “What’s going on?”
I took a seat in a chair in front of her desk. “Just need to ask you something.”
“Okay,” she said skeptically. “What is it?”
I took a deep breath and looked around the tiny room as I tried to figure out how to pose my question. Charlotte was the only colleague I’d formed a friendship with while working at HU. We’d met up for drinks a few times a month if my busy schedule allowed, and talk about her relationship with Mitch or what had happened with Jonah, so I had to believe I could trust her.
“Have you ever been with someone who was off-limits?” I finally asked and met her stare.
She blinked. “No. Why?”
I took another deep breath. “Let’s just say—hypothetically—that I slept with a student before he was my student. Would that get me fired?”
Her hazel eyes widened, and she gasped. “Did you?”
“Maybe?” I grimaced.
“Oh, my god. Tell me. Who? When?”
I shook my head. “I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair to him. I know nothing about him except he’s in my class.”
“Oh. It was a one-night stand?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed. “Didn’t even catch his name that night and then, he walked into my class.”
“What are you going to do?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. That’s why I came to you.”
“Are you going to hook up with him again?”
“Of course not.” At least I didn’t plan on it despite my strong attraction to him.
“What did he say about you being his professor?”
I shrugged again. “Nothing. I haven’t spoken with him.”
Charlotte leaned back in her chair. “Okay. Well, you can do one of two things. First, talk to him and let him know you two need to pretend it never happened. Or second, not talk to him at all.”
“He’s in my class, Char. I can’t just ignore him.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.” I sighed, but that didn’t mean I knew what to do, or that not speaking of that night was the best course of action.
We were silent for a few moments until she leaned forward again and said, “If anything, Hay, you need to get ahead of it. Pull him aside after class and let him know that whatever happened between the two of you was a one-time thing because if it continues, it could jeopardize your job.”
She was right, and when I walked into the classroom with Isabelle thirty minutes later, I knew what I had to do. Except when I saw Tyler stroll into the room, my heart felt as though it had stopped beating in my chest, and I was at a loss for words as I watched him shrug out of his coat. He was wearing a tight, long-sleeved, light blue Henley that showed off his broad chest and muscular arms. My mouth watered as I remembered what his skin tasted like, and I worried that I would be unable to form a sentence when I talked to him.
The night at Chrome, I’d had no problem approaching him because I had known what I wanted. Or rather who. It was easier to talk as strangers without any sort of connection hanging over my head. I wasn’t a professor at the club—hisprofessor. I was just another guy looking for a good time. So why was it so difficult for me to think about having a conversation about acting as though that night hadn’t happened?
I cleared my throat. “All right, ladies and gentlemen. Who wants to be the first to share an image they found for their assignment?” As always, crickets. “Anyone?” My gaze moved to Tyler’s, and I wasn’t sure if I expected him to speak up or not, but a few seconds later, he did.
“I’ll go.”
