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The class applauded as I packed up my laptop. Rather than put my coat back on, I left it off to make a point to Pierce—sex sells—and settled into my chair.
He looked at me for the first time in weeks, his expression unreadable.
Then he cleared his throat and called on the next student.
My heart sank. He’d offered feedback to everyone else in class except for me.
This silent treatment had to end. I’d taken his course like any normal student would. I’d done all my homework. I’d read every fucking piece of material he’d handed out. And he still wasn’t acknowledging me as an adult taking his class.
I’d stayed quiet about it because it was the mature option.
But his behavior wasn’t mature at all.
It was downright rude.
The rest of class went by slowly despite there only being five more people after me. However, it was the right amount of time to stoke my anger.
Especially as he gave all five of those students feedback again.
My jaw ached from clenching it so hard.
“Want to grab dinner?” Carver asked me as he stood, his gaze traveling over my dress with interest.
At least he sees me, I thought miserably.
I cleared my throat. “I actually already have dinner plans.” A lie. My only plans were to verbally beat the shit out of Logan Pierce. “Rain check?”
“If you wear that again? Sure.” He winked at me and gathered his stuff to leave.
I forced a laugh, the sound breathier than it should have been because of my mounting ire. Which probably sounded flirty to him. And any other day, it would be.
Carver Matthews was a handsome guy with his shaggy dark red hair and striking hazel eyes. He was a swimmer, too. That sort of body looked good sans clothing.
But a certain professor still captivated my attention.
Even though he clearly had no interest in me at all.
I waited for the last student to finish talking to him after class, the two of them openly discussing the feedback from her presentation.
Something that only made me angrier.
When she finally finished, Pierce started packing as though I weren’t standing there waiting to have a word with him.
The student left, the door closing with a finality that left us alone in the room like his first class.
“Are you seriously going to act like I don’t exist?” I demanded.
“Oh, I’m very aware that you exist, Jenica.”
My eyebrows lifted. “And that’s why you didn’t offer me a single statement after my presentation when you appraised everyone else?”
“What do you want me to say?” he asked, still not looking at me. “My best friend’s little sister just gave a presentation about sexual advertising.” His green eyes were a shade darker as he finally lifted his gaze to mine. “Do you have any idea how uncomfortable that was to listen to?”
I gaped at him. “Why? Because you still see me as a child?”
“Because you’re my best friend’s little sister,” he snapped back at me.
“I’m also a fucking person,” I retorted. “A twenty-two-year-old woman—because my birthday was a few weeks ago, FYI.” Not that he cared. “I’m majoring in the same damn degree that you did. I’m not a child. I’m not your sister. I’m a student, and I delivered a presentation that deserved to at least be commented on just like everyone else’s!”
