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“Nope.” My voice cracked over the word and I had to clear my throat. Buy myself some time to rid the fantasies clamoring for space in my head. “From Florida. I wanted to move away from all that heat, and I’m hoping to attend graduate school here.”
“Your family must miss you.”
Just bringing up my family was a punch to the gut. I’d been avoiding their calls and responding with short messages, the hurt still too fresh. Especially when I was exhausted from all the work I had to do to make up for their mistake. “They’re just happy I made it. I’m the first of my family to go to college.” Which was why they didn’t understand how serious I was.
“Did you get a scholarship to help with out of state costs?”
I snorted. My scholarship was sitting in my parents’ driveway. “I did. Not enough, but some to help out.”
“So, you work?”
For some reason he seemed as uncomfortable to ask about my possible job as I felt to answer. His eyes dropped to his hands clasped in front of him and swallowed.
I licked my lips and swallowed to buy some time to think of an answer that would hopefully divert his attention. Instead, my genius brain only came up with, “Yeah.”
“Oh, um . . . where?”
“Um . . .” I lifted my head and froze. His blue eyes were locked on me, like he was holding me in place, demanding my truth. He looked at me like he already knew what I’d done. But there was no way, because he was Dr. Pierce and no teacher, not even a professor, made the kind of money to afford Voyeur; or would risk their position as a teacher to hang out at a sex club. “Um,” I said again. “I work—”
The first few students walked in, saving me from coming up with a lie. I spent too much time with him to try and remember some random lie. Not only that, but I was the worst liar.
We each blinked and sat back in our seats. Dr. Pierce straightened his pens and papers that were already straight and moved to stand at the front of his desk as always, greeting the students as they came in.
Olivia came in and managed to distract me enough to let my heart calm down and get myself under control enough to focus. Once everyone was seated, Dr. Pierce began class.
“Hello, my name is Callum Pierce, and I have astrophilia.”
Students shuffled and murmured their confusion as to why our professor was starting the class like an AA meeting, and wondering what the hell astrophilia was.
“A rare love and obsession with planets, stars, and outer space.” His explanation brought a few laughs and some groans at how cheesy he was. “It’s why I love teaching. And maybe, by the end of this semester, I can impart some of that love to you.”
“Doubtful,” a guy in the back said.
Dr. Pierce merely gave him a squinted look and continued. “Now that it’s week two, I want to go ahead and assign you your end of the semester project.” A chorus of groans broke out among the class. “I know, I know. Just horrible,” he said with an exaggerated sigh and pretended to collapse against the desk. That earned him a few giggles from the other girls up front. “You will be picking one of the big stars to do a presentation about. In that presentation, I’d like you to use pictures you took yourself. Therefore, you will need to meet with me one night this semester, so I can help you work the telescope. I’ll put the sign-up schedule on our dashboard online.”
Once he’d finished explaining the criteria, he moved on to lecturing. But my mind was still stuck on meeting with him one night. Would the meetings be individual? I knew I saw him almost every day, but the idea of a dark sky filled with stars screamed intimacy. My chest fluttered at the thought.
And I squashed it, not letting myself continue down that path. I had shit to accomplish and didn’t have time to lust after Dr. Pierce.
I refused to end up being another girl who giggled in the front of his class.
Especially since I was barely a blip on his radar.
9
Callum
Two days.
That was how long I stayed away from Voyeur after my conversation with Oaklyn on Tuesday.
Maybe she won’t be here, I thought as I entered my identification code at the door. The hope was hollow at best considering a larger part of me hoped she would be there. I’d come earlier in the week and had missed her, telling myself I was happy about it. Then I’d watched another couple perform and struggled to not picture Oaklyn the whole time.
I was a fucking mess.
When I walked through the doors, I pulled my baseball cap low. I’d gone home to put on jeans, and a baseball cap, knowing I’d be asking for trouble to show up in the suit I wore to work that day. She’d spot me instantly and I couldn’t even begin to imagine the ramifications of her knowing I was there. Guilt pinched my chest, but desire burned hotter and became bigger than anything else I could feel.
