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Gary.
“I told you.” Six says, misinterpreting my silence. “Agree with me that he’s as hot as I promised he’d be, please.”
Gary.
I feel like all my brain cells collectively jump ship because I’m unable to comprehend what Gary from the bar, Gary thelawyer, is doing here.
He straightens and looks out into the crowd to my left where a couple of the guys are getting rowdy. His jaw is just as defined, his eyes just as cold and sharp as I remember them.
Except when he looked at me. The ice in his gaze had melted around the corners then.
He’s dressed in a navy suit and white dress shirt, similar to what he wore that night but without a tie. I wonder if he was able to salvage that shirt, I remember hearing a couple of those buttons hitting the ground.
“Settle down,” he barks and Jesus, if I wasn’t sure who he was before, I am now. He bossed me around his bedroom with a voice that sounded much the same, although it’d been more guttural and less controlled thatnight.
“Earth to Ner Bear.” Six calls from my right.
“What?” I manage to rip my gaze from Gary with some difficulty to look at her. “What were you saying?”
She gives me a curious look and I realize I must be acting very strangely. I never told her about what I’d done in Geneva. She wouldn’t have understood and she’d have cautioned me against being so reckless.
“That I didn’t exaggerate how hot he is, right?”
I clear my throat. “No, you didn’t.”
Her reaction makes sense now. He’s a lesson in physical perfection and the absolute antithesis of a secondary school teacher. Energy ripples off his shoulders along with a don’t give a fuck attitude that screams ‘doesn’t take orders or tolerate bullshit well’, and yet he’s aprofessor.
Of spoiled rich kids at that.
He’s not a lawyer. Like me, he lied about his life.
Although as shocked as I am to find him in this room, I think he’s in for an even ruder surprise when he eventually notices me.Nerves swell in my belly, but I find I’m distracted by another thought. If he lied about his job, I wonder what else he lied about.
“What did you say his name was?” I ask Six, my eyes still fixed on him, tracking his moving body as he takes his laptop out and connects it to the TV via Bluetooth.
“I can’t remember off the top of my head, but it was right below the class title on the schedule. Let me pull it up,” she says, and it doesn’t take her long because she still has the tab open from earlier. “His name is…Tristan Novak.”
Tristan.
A shiver ripples over my skin.
My tongue moves around the Ts in his name like I’m whispering a sensual promise. That name fits him perfectly. He looks like a Tristan.
A womanizer.
A fuckboy.
I suddenly feel foolish for believing his name was Gary. It so obviously doesn’t fit him.
My heart races at the upcoming confrontation, the undoubted collision that’s about to happen between us, and my associated complicated feelings about it.
I’m not ready to face them or him.
From the hushed conversations around me though, I can tell I’m not the only one who’s noticed our new professor. A hint of annoyance flares through me when I see the interested stare of the girls around me.
He was mine first.
I’m surprised by the swell of malice inside me at the thought of him getting with someone else.
