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There’s no way it would happen.I try to tell myself for the thousandth time.
My body already screaming for him to be closer. To touch me.
To approve of me. To really teach me a lesson I’d never forget.
I mean, the guy’s the world’s most eligible bachelor. Stellar career, books, a private practice that has a waiting list as long as his clients’ bank balances. I have no idea why he bothers still teaching at all. From what I can tell he doesn’t exactly need the money, so Vincent Valentine must be driven by other things
He’s so absorbed in his work, so mysterious because he chooses to live and work alone. And so damned handsome and charismatic I can't help but feel annoyed for being hopelessly attracted to someone so cliche’ in a way that only puts him further out of my reach.
The closer we get to home, the more relaxed I feel, almost forgetting all about what happened in the restrooms, my mind and body swimming in a whirlpool of maybe-probably not thoughts about Vincent as he catches me looking up at him more than once.
He seems on edge though, as if he’s in a hurry. Which dawns on me that he probably is. Must have a million things to do except babysit me because some guy walked into the restrooms.
Big deal.
And maybe I have been just imagining it, feeling watched all the time, I mean. There’s no real evidence, just a feeling I've had. Sometimes its nice though, feeling like someone would actually take the time to wanna watch me.
Other times, its felt creepy. Like the vibe I got in the bathrooms at college.
“I can make it from here if you have other things to do, Professor…” I suggest, already priming myself for him seizing his way out. Getting ready for the giant hole I know I'm gonna feel in my guts when he does go.
Past few weeks, Professor Valentine's lectures, seeing him. It’s been the only thing to keep me going. I joined the class late on account of not being able to start my scholarship until I had accommodation. The accommodation they were supposed to provide in the first place.
“It’s Vincent,” he rasps, stopping mid step to give me a stern look that almost turns to offended, “Plus, we’re almost there,” he adds. Softening his features into the closest thing to a smile he has before jutting his chiseled jaw towards me street up ahead.
“I just don’t wanna take up any more of your time, I should be fine now. Really…” I hear myself saying. Skipping to catch up to his long strides as he starts moving again.
His keen dark eyes scanning the neighborhood as if my stalker is lurking behind someone's bush, waiting to leap out and pounce on me.
“I already told you in class-” he grunts, slowing until I can match his step, “…I mean, in my office…” he corrects himself, looking like he's stuck for words for the first time in his life.
“You’re my student, so your safety is important.” He finally decides aloud, making me give him a sidelong glance as we round the corner. My apartment building looking older and more dilapidated than ever in the fading afternoon light.
As if all its secrets, all its stories have somehow left it sagging. Leaning back into the steep hill behind it as if it’s too tired to even pretend anymore.
And even though Professor-, I mean, Vincent is with me. I can’t help registering how creepy the place looks so suddenly. Can’t help gulping when I consider just how dangerous it’s been me walking home after dark for so long with some psycho on my tail.
I feel a shiver pass through me, instinctively moving my body closer to Vincent's as we walk which seems to please him by the time we reach the frosted glass and timber entrance.
What happens next should set alarm bells ringing but seeing me so close to home seems to have put Vincent in an almost chirpy mood.
He moves towards the mailboxes, mines the only one without a lock seeing as I just moved in. And he pulls a thin sheaf of mail from it, thumbing through my mail as if its his own.
“Ummm. How did you know which mail was mine?” I ask , lifting the mail from his huge hands. Suddenly realizing as I do that Vincent knew the street I live on too. Walked me the whole way as if he lived here himself.
The look on my face sees Vincent’s change. He looks serious all of a sudden. As if he's about to reveal something big.
‘I’m secret service, ma’am. And we think the man stalking you might be a terrorist…’But it’s nothing like that.
I don’t feel afraid of him, but how does he know so much about me? And why oh why didn’t I just go to the campus police.
It’s their job to stop psychos, not mine. Even if I am a Psych major.
And as a college Professor, its not Vincent’s job either.
“I deduced from the lack of lock on the newest looking mailbox to mean it must be yours. I’m assuming you've only lived here a short time?” He asks in his deepest, strongest Professor voice, making perfect sense as always.
I feel instantly stupid, another little quirk Of his. Making everyone else feel dumber than ever because he's just so damn smart.
