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"What are you doing here?" I groan, wondering how this day can get any worse.
"Waiting for you. I figured you'd come back here." He stands up straight, looking me up and down. "We didn't get to finish our conversation back in my dad's office."
"No, Danny," I say, sighing. "There is no conversation. We aren't together anymore. You keep pretending we are, but we aren't. Go away."
"Noelle, baby. I'm sorry." His voice takes on that whiny tone that grates against my nerves. "Whatever I did or didn't do or whatever, I'm sorry. Come on, don't leave. Don't be mad at me."
"Go away, Danny." I brush past him, knowing he doesn't have the fob to unlock the girl's dorm, but before I can make it inside, he grabs my arm.
"You don't mean that." Danny tries to force me to meet his eyes, but I refuse. "Just tell me what I can do to fix this. I want us to be together. We're a team, right?"
"We aren't," I grit out, wrenching my arm from his grip.
"Don't say that." There's an edge of franticness to Danny's voice that wasn't there before, and I wonder if it's because he could sense the energy between me and his dad back in the office.
Luckily, another group of girls enter the dorm, and I manage to slip away from Danny and into the crowd, making sure the door shuts behind all of us before I relax. He’s still waiting outside the glass doors, but for now, he can't harass me anymore. Ultimately, he's probably harmless, just annoying, but I'm still infinitely glad to be rid of him.
The girls and I take the elevator upstairs, and I head straight to my room. Fortunately, my roommate is off campus with her parents for break already since her finals are all online, so I don't have to worry about her trying to make small talk or asking why I look so upset. Instead, I toss my bag onto my bed, flop down, and cover my face with a pillow.
This is bad. Really, really bad. I can't stop thinking about him.
"No," I insist, throwing the pillow across the room and sitting up. I dig through my bag, grab my laptop, cram my earbuds in my ears, and log in to do what little homework I have left.
The unfinished Romeo and Juliet essay is screaming at me. It's the most important assignment I have left, but I know that if I open it and start to work on it, I'm going to be mentally sent back to that couch with Professor Nolan and the way I really think he was about to kiss me before his son interrupted us. So instead, I open the next assignment.
I have a graphic design project due tomorrow, and while the work isn't difficult, it requires a lot of concentration. After an hour of work, I've managed to get lost in the creative process and forget all about Nathan. But as soon as I close the computer and lie back on my pillow, exhausted despite the early evening hour, he's back in my mind all over again, and the need is pulsing in my core like it never left.
Frustrated to the point of breaking, I retrieve the pillow from the floor but not to sleep. With no other outlet, I cover my face with it and, this time, scream my heart out.
3
NATHAN
Today is cooler, but my blood is just as hot.
It's the second English 101 class of the week, and just like before, Noelle is perched at her desk, looking like the most gorgeous, most fuckable thing on the planet. Unfortunately for me, she's also the most off-limits woman. My son's ex. Nineteen years old. Sweet, smart, and potentially a career-ruiner.
Except this isn't my career, is it? No one cares if the guy writing the textbooks is sleeping with a student. Noelle is an adult. There's nothing technically wrong with it. Morally, though?
There is a hell of a lot wrong with it morally.
She's dressed in a matching sage green yoga set, the shirt so tight and thin that I'm positive I can see the outline of her nipples all the way down here on the lecture floor. Her legs are crossed, her hair is in a high ponytail, and she has a pair of glasses on today that I'm almost certain aren't necessary, but they look incredible on her.
"Professor?"
The sound of a student clearing their throat, followed by my name, brings me out of my daydream. It's one of the boys in the front row, looking at me like he has a question.
"Yes?"
"Are you okay, man? You're sweating."
The class breaks into laughter and I roll my eyes, wiping the perspiration from my brow. "Just fine."
It's a lie.
I'm not fine.
Not only am I attracted to a girl I should not be, but my son is a grade-A asshole who's apparently treated her like shit. I feel like shit because no matter how hard I try, I can't make myself less interested in her simply because she dated my son. The connection is too strong, and the desire is undeniable.
