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Chapter One
Paisley
“Hey, Adam, it’s me again. Not sure what’s going on, but please call me back. I get out of class at two.” I hung up the phone, frustrated that Adam wasn’t answering my calls or texts. I’d tried last night and again this morning to get ahold of him.
I had this nervous, anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach because of him. Something wasn’t right. Hell, something was never right with our relationship, which is why I never went all the way with him. We’d dated on and off all through school, and the most I’d ever done with him is an occasional blow job.
I shoved my phone back into my purse and walked into my last class of the day. Intro to Criminal Justice was the only class that I was taking toward my major. My other three classes were just trying to get my basics out of the way, so this was the class I was interested in.
When I walked in, I was met with a room full of guys and very few other women. I double checked the room number because the man at the podium wasn’t Professor Hannah Bryant, whom I was expecting.
“Come on in and take your seat.” His voice was firm and deep, soothing yet commanding. I immediately found myself wanting to obey his direction, even though I wasn’t sure I was in the right class.
“Is this Intro to Criminal Justice?” I asked, unsure what to do. The room number was right—maybe there was a last-minute switch of professors?
“You’re in the right class. I’m covering for Professor Bryant for the week. She had something come up. Have a seat.” He nodded to the vacant seat at the front of the class, so I took it. I’m not entirely certain why I did. Sitting front and center wasn’t my first choice of seats, but I took the seat and listened as he talked.
“I’m Professor Hawthorne. This isn’t my normal class, but Professor Bryant wanted me to meet with y’all today and give you the syllabus as well as handing out your assignments for the week. She’ll be out until next week, so you won’t have to report back here until then.”
I caught his gaze as he walked toward me, “Miss?” He left his question in the air between us and I felt a tug in my core. God, he was hot. His brown hair and scruffy face were sexy as sin. He looked like he could have walked off a runway in his gray slacks and white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“Paisley.” I swallowed hard and wondered if anyone else felt the tension that I felt coming from the man standing over me.
“Would you mind passing these out?”
“Nope.” I took the papers from his hand and stood up, tripping over my bookbag. I almost fell, but his hands gripped my upper arms tightly, steading me.
The chuckles around the room made my face heat with embarrassment. I’ve always been somewhat of a klutz, and my pale skin easily showed my pink cheeks.
“Careful,” he said, giving my arm a squeeze before letting me go. I passed out the syllabus papers and sat back down.
“What, Miss . . .” He paused, looking over the class roster, “Monroe is passing out is your syllabus for the year. She’s broken everything down on here for you down to what percentage of your grade each of these assignments are. She doesn’t take late assignments. If you miss one, that’s on you.”
I was at the back of the class passing out the papers when a guy in the back row gave me a thorough once over. His eyes raked down my body, undressing me as they went. I felt naked and uncomfortable with the intensity of his look.
“The next papers you’re getting are the details of your first assignment.” I turned to see him set one on my desk, then hand the stack to a guy in the second row. I was glad I wasn’t going to have to pass out another paper.
When I sat back in my seat and looked at the assignment, there was a note notation in pencil on the side margin. ‘Stay after class please.’
I looked up and met his brown eyes. When I gave him a small nod, he looked away and kept talking about the assignment as if our silent exchange never happened. I sat there the rest of the time wondering why he wanted me to stay after class.
Unexpected fantasies started playing in my head of him kissing me. I wondered what his unshaved beard would feel like against my skin. Would his kiss be hard or soft? Would his kisses be sloppy like Adam’s?
Shit. Adam. I immediately felt bad for fantasizing about the hot Professor when I had a boyfriend back home. I quickly grabbed my phone from my purse and unlocked it. The little red circle saying that I had a text message was waiting for me. I opened my texts and saw that Adam had sent me a photo that needed to download. I hit the picture to start the process, hoping for a selfie that would make me smile and forget my guilt for ogling the hot professor.
The message under the photo said he was a little busy at the moment. When the download was complete and the picture showed up, I felt sick. Adam was naked, and his dick was buried inside my nemesis from high school, Justine.
I turned my phone off and took a deep breath, trying to get a hold on my emotions. Anger, hurt, and betrayal all warred within me. I felt like crying, but I’d wasted so many years on him already. I wasn’t about to waste my tears too.
I sucked in a deep breath and let it out. The guilt over my thoughts was gone, but in its place was so much anger and doubt. Why would he do this to me? Mixed in with those negative emotions was a sense of relief. Relief I hadn’t given him my virginity. Relief that it was finally done and over with. There was no going back to Adam. I had too much self-respect for that. I just wished I had known sooner that he was this big of an asshole.
My thoughts drifted to all the signs that I’d seen over the years and ignored. He always called me nicknames that I hated, like Bae or Sweet Thing. He cancelled on me more than once in the past or been unreachable late at night. The thing I hated most about our relationship was when he wanted sex, he’d get mad and call me a cock tease.
I didn’t mean to keep waiting, but I kept putting it off. Looking back, I think I knew but didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to live in blissful ignorance, but there was no going back now. Adam was no longer going to be in my life, period.
Turning my phone back over, I opened it and went back to my text messages. I gritted my teeth when I saw the picture again and typed in a message before blocking the number and deleting our conversation from my phone.
I’d have to block him on my social media later, but I sensed the Professor’s eyes on me again and put my phone away. When I looked up, I saw people heading out the door. I’d missed everything he’d said in the last part of the class, so I quickly started gathering my things.
