Page 3 of My Downfall

“Hey, Mom.”

“How was your day?”

“It was good, I’ve got some work to do, so I’ll head up to my room.”

“You know you’re never going to meet anyone if you don’t get out and enjoy yourself.” There are very few parents who would try to get their children to study less and go out more, but there you go; that’s my mom for you. And by enjoy yourself, she means meet a man. A rich man.

“I’ll be out with the girls again soon.”

“At least they’re starting to settle down, maybe they’ll start to rub off on you.”

I know without a doubt she’d want me rubbing one off for Hudson. I think I’d like that, too.

“I won’t die alone, Mom. I’ll get myself a dog before that happens.”

“That’s not funny, Mia.”

“Love you,” I yell as I head up the stairs, more than done with the conversation we seem to be having more and more often.

I step through the door of my room, my sanctuary, and flop down on the mattress, my thoughts going straight to a dark-haired, blue-eyed man who is far too old for me. It doesn’t stop me from thinking about him twenty-four-seven, though. I feel like Ariel from‘The Little Mermaid’, pining after a guy she barelyknows.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Get it together, Mia, stop thinking about a man you can’t have.

However, a few hours later when I reach for my trusty vibrator, I am definitely still thinking about him.

Chapter Three

Mia

I have one class with him today.

One.

I can get through one class without being a brat. Right?

Wrong. Totally wrong.

I’ve always been a brat, but he brings out the worst in me.

“Miss Whitlock,” he grates out. “Do the assignment I have set, or don’t and get zero. The choice really is yours.” I am definitely testing his patience.

“I didn’t have a problem with any of Professor James’ projects.”

“So it’s just me, then? How delightful.” His sarcasm isn’t lost on me, and it’s also a trait I find ridiculously attractive in a man. There’sjust something about that dry humor that gets me going. There’s a lot about Hudson that gets me going.

“Guess you’re just lucky.”

“Carry on and you’ll be lucky enough to see me after class.”Now why does that threat sound sexual?

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” I thought my words were quiet enough for him to not hear me. Apparently, I was wrong.

“Miss Whitlock.” His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. “I am a patient man, but there is a line. Don’t cross it,” he warns.

“Yes, sir,” I mumble. I swear I hear him mutter that it’s not sir he wants me to call him, but I must be hearing things.

***