Page 10 of Bless My Heart

I sigh. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I checked his transcripts, and he seems to do pretty well in his classes.”

“Maybe he sleeps with all of his professors,” Lexi muses.

I flick a piece of lettuce at her. “Shut up. This is all your fault.”

“I didn’t pick that specific guy for you, Haze. All I wanted was for you to get back out there and get over that asshole, Jordan. And hey, I’d say it worked. Look at you. You look alive again. You just needed someone to show you that you’re gorgeous and that you can find someone way better than Jordan. You were just missing some vitamin D.” I almost spit my wine out when Lexi says that last part.

I hate to admit it, but she’s right. After that night with Wes, I felt like me again. Well, like the me I was before Jordan sucked out my soul. I felt energized and excited for the first time in a long time. Just sucks that I have to look my one-night-stand in the eye every day for a whole freaking semester, but it’s fine. I’m fine. At least he has really pretty eyes, I guess.

“Well, anyway, I have to see him three days a week, every week, until December. I’m sure you can both imagine how awkward I’m going to be until then.”

“I’m guessing you completely froze when you saw him?” Caroline laughs.

“One-hundred percent. I forgot what I was doing and where I was. I had to stare at the back wall just to remember what words were.”

“So, the better question is … How are you not going to drool over him every day? I saw the way you looked at each other. It was like insta-attraction from across the room kind of shit,” Caroline says, pouring me more wine.

“Honestly, I don’t know. He is a total snack.” Every day this week, he looked perfectly put together in shorts and T-shirts that fit his muscles just right. My eyes kept drifting to his throughout class, and he was always staring at me. Of course he was because I’m teaching, obviously. But most of the other students looked bored or indifferent. He looked like he was really listening to every single thing I had to say. It made me feel good. Maybe a little too good. “I’m sure a girl his own age will scoop him up soon. I can’t imagine someone that gorgeous being single for long.”

“Are you going to be ok with that?” Caroline asks gently. She knows how emotional I can get sometimes.

Yes. No. I don’t know. “I don’t really have a choice, do I? It’s not like I can date him. He’s my student.”

Lexi adds her two cents, “Who has to know?”

“Lex, come on. I’m not an ethics professor, but I’m pretty sure it’s frowned upon for a professor to sleep with a student. Knowing me, I’d end up blurting it out at the staff meeting when someone asked me how the semester was going.” They both laugh because they know I’m right. I’m a terrible liar. I don’t know how people do it. When I’m in a situation where I have to lie, my face turns bright red, and I usually say something stupid. Typical Hazel. “It will be fine. I don’t even know anything about the guy. He’s attractive and knows how to make me come, but other than that, I know nothing. We probably have nothing in common. I mean, what if he’s like a runner or something?”

“Oh, the horror!” Lexi teases, putting her hand over her heart. Working out has never been my thing. I do yoga every now and then, but that’s about it. I went on a date with a guy years ago before I met Jordan, and all he wanted to talk about was running — times, distances, shoes, training. I couldn’t take it and definitely did not accept a second date.

“My point is, I haven’t gone on a date with Wes. I don’t really know him, so I have no claim to him. I just need to get through this semester, and then I’ll never see him again.”

Saying those words makes my heart drop just a little bit, but I’m not sure why. He seems like a nice guy and gave me the best, dirtiest sex of my life. That must be it. Since that night in the bathroom with Wes, I haven’t had sex with anyone It’s still fresh on my mind. Surely, if I put myself out there and start actually dating again, I’ll be able to think about more than Wes’s beautiful green eyes and his rough hands on my hips.

I shake the thought out of my head.

“Anyways … Everything will be fine. I’ll be fine,” I say with a smile. My two best friends give me knowing looks. I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear and give them a reassuring smile. Everything will be just fine. I know I can’t be lusting after one of my students. I’ll admire him from afar and move on with my life.

In theory, it sounds like a good plan. And it actually worked at first. I ssee Wes in class three days a week and, that’s it. He occasionally smiles at me, and I try my best to avoid getting lost in his eyes while teaching. I’ve picked a nice spot on the back wall of the lecture hall and trained my eyes to go there whenever they start drifting to the middle of the class where Wes usually sits.

A few weeks into the semester, I literally wake up on the wrong side of the bed. I’m not sure how it happened, but in my sleep, I rolled right over to the side of my bed that is usually empty. I wake up in a mess of confusion. My sheets are tangled around my legs, and I have a light layer of sweat covering my entire body. I feel … off. But I shake it off because I have to get up. I’ve got back-to-back lectures today, and I love the content I have planned. It might make me a nerd, but I get really excited talking about economics. It’s what I know.

I pry myself from my bed after I untangling my legs from the sheets. I don’t bother making my bed because I know I’m just going to crawl right back in it when I get home from work.

I walk into my tiny bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror. I look tired. More tired than usual. I hope I’m not coming down with something. I can’t afford to get sick right now. Not when I’m trying to make a name for myself as a new professor.

I hop in the shower to wash the clamminess off me. Thankfully, I feel a little better when I get out. I throw on black dress pants and a white silk short-sleeved blouse, slip on my black wedges, and throw a pair of black flip-flops in my bag for good measure.

Normally, I would make myself breakfast, but nothing sounds good. My stomach feels like it’s in knots, and I don’t know why. Is something happening today that I’ve forgotten about? I check the calendar app on my phone but don’t see anything. Hmm. Well, I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually. I grab a banana for when I actually get hungry.

The drive to work is short. After dropping my stuff off in my office, I go to the staff room to fill up my water bottle. I look around to make sure my bully Dr. Ellis isn’t lurking in a corner somewhere, ready to throw passive aggressive comments my way. But it appears I’m alone for now.

Someone brought bagels, so I grab one with a small container of cream cheese to take back to my desk. I tell myself I’ll eat it after my first lecture is over.

“Good morning, Hazel,” I hear my friend and mentor, Dr. Sam Englewood, say from behind me. I turn to greet him. Sam is an older man who is a tenured professor at Brunswick University. I love working with him, and he’s been such a huge help getting acclimated here.

“Morning, Sam,” I reply with a weak smile. He looks me up and down with concern flooding his eyes.

“You doing ok? You look awfully pale this morning.”