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Hazel cut out a section of pancake and stabbed a slice of strawberry. The texture of the pancake was nutty, and the sweetness of the berry flooded her mouth. Not even her dad had made pancakes this good—back when he was around to make them. Sitting around the table while he made bunny-shaped pancakes was one of Hazel’s first memories.
“It’s good to see you looking rested.” Ian brushed his fingers against her cheek. “Since you already turned in your paper, do you have class?”
“I still have the Poli-Sci class this morning. Oh, what time is it?”
“It’s still early, but I can take you to your apartment if you need to change.”
Hazel licked her lips and tilted her head to the side. She’d never had to decide what to do the morning after a drunken romp.
“You could change here, too, of course,” Ian offered. “I can’t guarantee something that will fit though.”
“You have women’s clothes here?” Hazel looked at Ian uncertainly.
Well, of course. This wasn’t Ian’s first unplanned sleepover with a woman. What was Hazel to him, really, but an exciting tryst with one of this students?
Ultimately, she chose to let him take her home. And with her mantra solidly in mind, she went about her day, went to her classes, and then landed right back at Ian’s penthouse.
Except this time, she brought an overnight bag.
***
Sex with Dr. Cartwright was like an addiction to Hazel. And like any good addiction, she found herself making excuses for it and covering for it almost regularly. She couldn’t tell Natalie the real reason she kept spending the night somewhere else, so she just said that she was visiting her family more often, and it got too late to drive back. Or that she had the graveyard shift at the grocery store.
Even worse, there were whispers among the students. She overheard Gina claiming that Ian smelled like a woman’s perfume. Even though Hazel never wore perfume, Ian had recently gifted her with an expensive lotion that smelled faintly of lavender, and she found herself making sure to sit away from Gina. What would she do if people found out she was sleeping with her professor? She had blown off the conflict of interest on that first night, but it could be a real problem for her—if anyone discovered their affair.
In the meantime, Hazel’s lies were covering up not just their nights at his penthouse, but what happened behind the locked door of his office (both business and the one at the school), and once, a quickie in the bathroom in the middle of a business dinner.
In more ways than one, Hazel was well-fucked.
Two weeks after their affair had begun, Hazel entered the office, wondering if it was time to talk to Ian about what they were. He was good to her. He treated her well, and they had amazing sexual chemistry, but Hazel didn’t know what this relationship meant, or how it would impact her career. She had much more to lose than he did. She would feel better if she could talk to Natalie about this, but she was afraid to say it out loud.
“Morning, darling,” Ian said as she walked in.
Hazel glanced behind her and then shot him a scolding look.
“No one is here. And I’m British. No one will notice an epithet or two.”
“They will when you’ve never called me that before.” Hazel set her bag down and sighed. She had thought she’d recovered from midterms, but inching into November, her fatigue had returned in full force.
“Don’t be cross.” Ian walked around and sat on the edge of his desk facing her. He leaned forward and cupped her cheek. “What’s on your mind?”
“I’m just nervous about someone finding out about us.”
“Don’t be. No one in my employ will say a word.”
“I know, but it’s not just here that’s a problem. What if someone at the university finds out?”
“If that happens, I won’t be invited back to the school. I’d prefer not to have that kind of scandal, but I can protect you, I promise.” Ian dropped his hand to her shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t worry.”
Hazel jumped when she heard Vicki’s heels, and she moved away from him. Ian frowned, but let her go and rose to talk to Vicki. Hazel slumped in her chair. She couldn’t go on like this. It wasn’t fair to Ian. It wasn’t fair to her, either. How could she keep doing something like this when she knew better than to let a man have power like this over her? It was practically rule number one in the young feminist handbook. She’d sat in Feminist Majority meetings where the members would talk about women who stayed with bad boyfriends. Ian wasn’t a bad man, but this was definitely a bad circumstance under which to start a relationship, and Hazel felt like she should’ve been smarter than this.
