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My heart was beating fast, thundering in my chest like I was having a heart attack. He’s my literature teacher, and he’s always given me the creeps. He’s tall at around 6’2”, with a massive frame, and eyes that always look like he’s stripping off your clothes. Apparently, I’m not the only one who feels like that. While he has fans around campus, a couple of my friends agree he’s giving off major pervert vibes.
So when I saw him taking me in—thin pajamas and white shirt—I immediately wanted to flee or hide. I knew my heart was about to give out with its erratic and rapid beating. I didn’t know what he was saying anymore because if there was one thing I had 100% trust in, after staying at Andrew’s, it was my gut. That sixth sense telling me something’s off.
I knew for sure I was seconds away from fainting, and if that happened, what would he have done? God. I don’t even want to think about it. But Andrew appeared out of nowhere and manhandled my professor like he weighed nothing.
Relief washed over me in waves, making my knees buckle.
Helplessly, I watch Andrew towering over him. Even though they’re almost equal in physical size, there’s something about how Andrew glares at him that makes my man the more dangerous one. Professor Blaine must have figured that out quickly because he pushes the glasses higher on his nose nervously. His eyes dart to me, then Andrew, and quickly scan for any possible points of exit.
He gulps when he realizes there’s no way out. If the situation wasn't so serious, I would laugh. Professor Blaine is no wimp. He almost fills out the doorway whenever he comes to class. But here he is, intimidated by Andrew.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Andrew growls.
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a professor here!”
He tries to move but Andrew plants a foot on his stomach, pinning him to the ground. “Why were you cornering her?”
“Andrea? She’s my student! Wait… Wait a minute. Who are you? Do I need to call security?”
Andrew laughs darkly, the sound sending shivers down my spine. “Go ahead and do it. Because I took a video of you as you were forcing yourself on her. It’ll be fun what the security makes of it.”
He took a what? Did he really? Or is he bluffing?
“I did nothing wrong. I was just reminding her about her homework! Isn’t that right, Andrea? Tell him!”
When Andrew spins around to look at me, I shake my head. “No. He came from out of nowhere, blabbering about frat boys and parties and why I should stay away from them.”
Professor Blaine visibly pales as Andrew crouches and grabs his shirtfront. “Listen to me, Professor Shithead,” he sneers. “If this is how you treat college girls, the press would have a field day. Now, I suggest—”
“Is there a problem here, Professor?”
A roving security guard shines a flashlight on the two men and Professor Blaine uses the distracting opportunity to jump up and push Andrew’s hands away. For a moment, I fear he’ll ask security to haul Andrew out of here. Instead, he dismisses him with a wave of his hand. “No. Just a misunderstanding. This guy probably had too much to drink.”
My professor’s laugh is too forced that the security narrows his eyes. “In front of the ladies’ dorm?”
“What? Oh sorry. I didn’t notice. Heading out now. Sorry for disturbing you, Andrea.”
Professor Blaine jogs back toward the direction of faculty on-campus housing and the security’s flashlight follows him. Andrew is standing with his hands shoved in his pockets, still with a murderous look on his face.
“Mind explaining what that was all about?”
Andrew takes out his wallet and gives him his business card. “I’m a doctor and a close friend of this young girl’s father. Can you maybe make sure no men—including professors—lounge around this area? If anything feels off, especially with that particular professor, I’d appreciate a call.”
“Is there something we should know about him?”
“I don’t know yet. I hope it’s a one-time incident that willneverrepeat…because neither you, nor I, allow it to. Right?” Andrew narrows his eyes as if to challenge the man.
The security nods slowly then tips his hat to me. “You know what number to call when you feel in danger, ma’am.”
I still can’t speak so I nod back.
The silence is deafening when the security guard continues with his rounds and now it’s just the two of us, Andrew and I. My hunky doctor who saved me out of the blue doesn’t look at me, but I know it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Judging by the rise and fall of his chest and his still flaring nostrils, I know he’s still trying to calm himself down so I let him have his peace. “Get in the truck, Andrea.”
I’m startled by how dangerous his voice sounds so I get in without a word. He follows and turns the truck on. Tension fills the confined space with an air of unease. All of a sudden, it’s hot and stifling.
We drive outside the campus for a few minutes before he stops by a secluded spot near the road. He cuts off the engine and white-knuckles the steering wheel. I know for sure he won’t hurt me but I’m still palpitating. “A-Andrew?”
“Why were you out at this hour?” he grits out, still not looking at me.
