I stopped and turned to him and lowered my voice.
“I’m sure you know that if anyone were to find out about what happened, I could lose my job. It’sforbidden.” I used his word so he knew I understood why the photo of the Eiffel Tower spoke to him.
“I understand, but—”
“No buts, okay? Here, I’m just your professor. Do you understand?” My voice was still quiet as I pleaded with him to let whatever happened between us be nothing more than it was intended to be.
He nodded. “Yeah, I understand.”
“Great.” I walked out the door and it felt as though the invisible weight I’d been carrying around for a week had instantly dissipated.
5
Tyler
“You like breaking the rules?”
When Professor Foster asked that question during the assignment discussion, I thought I’d heard a hint of challenge in his voice. Then after class when he said,“Here, I’m just your professor,”I decided his initial question was more of an accusation.
Regardless of the warning he issued before walking out, I could tell that the picture of the Eiffel Tower I had selected had affected him. It hadn’t been my intention to fuck with his head. Initially, I planned to let the photo speak for itself as a little private connection between us. However, when the image popped up on the screen, I noticed he sucked in a small breath, and I couldn’t stop myself from pushing the boundaries a bit.
Or maybe I read the entire situation wrong, and he didn’t care about the photo at all. I’d spent the last week and a half remembering our night together, jerking off more times than I could count to mental images of him fucking me, and a part of me wanted him to feel as conflicted about our situation as I was.
I wasn’t stupid. Even before he pleaded with me to understand, I knew the chance of anything happening again was slim because, like he’d said, he was my professor, and it was against the rules. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there could have been something more between us than a mind-blowing orgasm.
As I left his classroom, I decided to head over to The Daily Grind to get a cup of coffee and do some reading for my music class that I’d pushed off to the last minute. It took about twenty minutes to get across campus since I stopped to chat with some of my Sigma brothers along the way. Between the charity game coming up in a couple of months and being a part of the planning committee for our annual ski trip, the frat was taking up a lot of my time. Not that I minded much. I loved the camaraderie and friendship that came with being a part of a fraternity.
Besides, being busy gave me less time to obsess over my hot professor.
After walking into the coffee house, I placed my order at the counter, waited for my drink, and then found an open table in the corner. Grabbing my laptop from my bag, I pulled up the article I needed to read and set the alarm on my phone so I wouldn’t lose track of time. It didn’t take long for the noise and constant stream of people coming and going to fade into the background as I focused on the schoolwork in front of me.
Just as I finished reading a piece on digital music production, I heard the barista call out, “Americano for Hayden.” My head snapped up, and it surprised me to see Professor Foster walk up to the counter and retrieve his drink.
I checked the time on my phone and realized his office hours had just ended, which meant I only had a few minutes before I needed to head over to the music building. I turned off my alarm and began to pack my stuff.
Glancing up, I tried to resist the temptation to look in his direction, but I couldn’t stop myself. Our eyes locked and he stopped mid-stride. Unlike in class, there was no mistaking the heat in his gaze. His fingers tightened around his cup as I slowly perused his body. Knowing what he looked like under his navy overcoat and tan slacks sent a slight shiver down my spine. When my eyes returned to his face, I didn’t miss the clench of his jaw before he shook his head and proceeded to the door.
Picking up my bag, I studied the multi-colored threads on my wrist, which got me thinking. Why had Professor Foster kept my bracelet? If he’d had no intention of seeing me again, he would have thrown it away, right? And when he learned I was in his class, it would have made more sense to forget about it rather than return it and bring attention to the fact we’d hooked up.
Maybe Professor Foster wasn’t as unaffected as I thought.
* * *
“You missed quitea show last night while you were at your study group,” Fallon said as we walked into our photojournalism class the following Monday.
Since Professor Foster had been adamant about him only being my instructor, I decided on my way to campus the following week that the best thing to do would be to push the memory of our hook up out of my mind. However, when I saw him at the table in the front of class looking at his laptop while rubbing the back of his neck, I lost all my resolve. I would never be able to forget that night and how his hands felt. Still, I needed to respect his wishes since it was his job on the line.
So, instead of lusting after my teacher, I focused on the story Fallon was sharing. “What happened?”
“You know the girl Preston’s been hooking up with?”
I nodded, remembering him introducing me to Marissa at our last party.
“Turns out she has a boyfriend.”
“Seriously?” We stood at our table, but neither one of us took a seat.
“Yep, and guess who showed up at her sorority house while Preston was balls deep in her?”
