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Now that she was here, I couldn’t really remember what I’d planned to say.
Her messy hair and flushed cheeks appeared to be from sprinting back to my office. Fortunately, she was wearing jeans and a sweater rather than those fuck-me heels again. I strongly doubted she could have run in those.
“Did you need something?” she asked after a beat of silence. “There wasn’t anything in your feedback I had questions about, and I’m prepared for my midterm assignment.”
“Another sex ad?” I asked, unable to stop myself from quirking up an eyebrow.
She shook her head. “No. My marketing plan is for children’s coloring books.” Her eyes glittered as she finally met my gaze. “I figured you would find that more appropriate.”
Jenica used to draw a lot as a kid. She’d also loved coloring. So I actually did find that suitable for her, but I suspected that wasn’t what she meant at all.
“Do you still color?” I wondered aloud, trying to break some of the tension.
“No. But I have taken a few art courses as electives.” She resumed staring out the window over my head. “I haven’t colored since middle school.” The latter part came out in a low mumble of sound that appeared to be more for her than for me.
“What art courses have you taken?” I asked, genuinely interested.
She shrugged. “Mostly painting. A few in graphic design, as it goes hand in hand with marketing graphics.” She looked at me again, her expression holding a note of exhaustion. “You didn’t ask me here for small talk, Pierce. What do you want?”
“Maybe I wanted small talk.”
Her eyes rolled. “Then ask Emily to come to office hours instead.” She started to stand as though we were done, her audacity slapping me across the face.
“Sit. Down.” The command left my mouth in a way similar to the word kneel, but I ignored that and focused on her submissive form.
Because the moment I spoke, she sat.
And her head immediately bowed.
Then she frowned, some part of her registering that she’d just submitted without meaning to, and snapped her gaze back up to mine, a hint of fury lurking in the pretty blue depths. “What the fuck do you want, Pierce?”
“For starters? Some goddamn respect would be nice.” I was really tired of this attitude. I hadn’t done anything to deserve it other than to ask her nicely to drop my course. Then I’d spent the better part of the last seven weeks acting as though she meant nothing to me to avoid any awkwardness.
And now I had her acting out like a fucking brat in my office.
Because I called her, I thought angrily. Why did I do that, again?
“How have I disrespected you?” she asked, her voice a touch softer now. “I’ve shown up every week prepared to answer questions and participate, only for you to treat me like I was invisible. Then I gave a presentation that you could barely find any faults in—because, let’s be honest, we both know your nitpicky comments were a stretch at best—and now you’ve demanded I show up to your office hours without once telling me why. If anyone has been disrespectful, it’s you. Because you refuse to take me seriously.”
I stared at her, momentarily at a loss for words.
Because she was right.
I had disrespected her immensely by ignoring her.
I hadn’t taken her seriously as a student, too focused on the distraction she created by being in my class rather than considering the reason for her enrollment—to learn.
And I had absolutely graded her more harshly than the others in an effort to overcompensate for any perceived favoritism.
This was such a fucking mess.
All because I couldn’t seem to think straight in her presence.
Why did she have to grow up to become such an alluring goddess?
This would be so much easier if she were still twelve.
But she wasn’t.
