Forbidden Encounter

by Maeve Williams

We finished our tea just as we got to BCAS. We disposed of our garbage in the nearest bin. The sugar rush was already working its way through our systems. We were ready for the day ahead.

  “What’s the name of this course that I’m being dragged to, again?”

  “No one is dragging you anywhere. You are coming of your free will in the hope that it will stir something in you so that you can choose a major and stick with it for the next couple of years.”

  “What’s the name of this miracle course?”

  “Principles of Marketing.”

  “And it’s taught by?”

  “TBA. When I signed up, there was no lecturer yet.”

  “Well, that was a couple of weeks ago. Maybe they’ve updated the portal by now.”

  We both got on our phones and logged into the college’s LMS. We darted out of the way as students milled around us. Slowly we made our way to the lecture hall where the class was scheduled.

  “Ah! Here we go. Principles of Marketing.” I looked at Carey’s phone as she scrolled through her courses. “Damn. Still no name.”

  “Try searching for all the marketing lecturers.” I looked up. We had reached the door. We stood to the side as Carey continued her search. She shook her head.

  “The course name, class time, and room are there. But it still says TBA.”

  I grinned. “Well, the worst-case scenario is that there is no lecturer, and we go back home and nap for the next three hours.” I looked up at the sound of a loudspeaker came from inside.

  Carey smirked. “No chance of that. Let’s go meet Ms. or Mr. TBA, why don’t we.”

  I pressed the refresh button on the portal. As we stepped in, the cold blast from the air conditioning unit hit me. I pulled the hoodie closer as we found a seat in the second row. Carey stepped into the row while I settled into the position at the end, shrugging off my backpack. I placed my phone on the desk in front of me as I pulled out a pen and notebook. As the little circle that showed that the site was loading stopped spinning, I glanced at the course portal. I nudged Carey and whispered.

  “It just needed another refresh. The lecturer is…” My voice trailed off. A numbness crept over me. My hands became clammy. My heart started to pound. My head felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton. Carey seemed to speak as if from a distance and in slow motion.

  “Ben-ja-min Buck-leyyyy. Sounds like an old dude.”

  I breathed in and out rapidly as I shook my head frantically. I could not be there. I wanted to grab my bag and hightail it out. But I felt as if I was rooted to the seat. I pulled the hoodie even closer. It had to be a dream. But when I looked towards the podium at the front of the room, I knew I was wide awake. Benjamin Buckley. In living color. In the flesh. The man with whom I had been ten seconds away from being completely naked. And he was my lecturer. I kept my eyes down. But the magnetic pull that we had been unable to resist the day before still had power over me. I found my head coming up. I took a deep breath as our eyes met.

  I licked my lips and saw his eyes narrow. I willed my eyes to look away, but they seemed doomed to drown in his. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, his gaze shifted. He walked to the board at the front of the room and picked up the white-board marker. In big, bold letters, he wrote” PRINCIPLES OF MARKETING, PROFESSOR BENJAMIN BUCKLEY.” Below he scribbled his email address, cell phone number, office location, and office times. All around me, I heard the rustle of the opening of notebooks and the clicking of pens as the class took down the information. I sat staring as he turned back to the class.

  “Good morning. My name is Benjamin Buckley, and I’m your lecturer for Principles of Marketing.”

  I slumped further into my seat. What kind of rabbit hole had I gone down?

  Chapter 4

  Ariana

  My heart was in my mouth as I stared at him. He stared straight at me for a few seconds before his eyes slid around the rest of the room. He took a seat on the edge of the desk and tapped the lapel mic he wore.

  “Is this thing on?” His voice came blaring over the speaker, and he laughed. “I guess it is.” He popped his cuff and checked his watch. “It’s now 9:01, so I suggest we all settle down quickly and get the show on the road.” His eyes scanned the room once more and met mine. They lingered for a fraction of a second before moving on.

  I held my head down and slumped into my seat as far as was comfortable. I could feel my ears burning. I snuck a peek at him. He wore a red jacket with a black zipper. It had the same logo as the one he had given me, but this time the logo was black. I hugged my bag to my chest, ensuring that it hid the logo on the hoodie. It would not do for there to be speculation on day one as to why the professor and a student were wearing garments with the same logo.

  As his gaze skimmed in my direction, I lowered my eyes. How the heck was I going to get through three hours of this class when the man I had almost had sex with was sitting not even twenty feet away? And he was my Professor! The whole thing was just surreal. I turned as Carey nudged me and leaned over.

  “What’s in a name? Benjamin Buckley is so not an old fart. Who would have thought we would have scored such a hottie for our first class? I bet you that will get you out of bed early every Tuesday.”

  My face felt as if it was on fire as I fumbled for my phone. Carey seemed oblivious to my discomfort and continued to babble.

  “Don’t you think he seems a bit young to be a professor? But maybe he’s one of those old guys with a young face. Who knows? He may be nearly forty with a wife and kids at home.”

  “Twenty-nine and single, as far as I know,” I mumbled.

  “What’s that?”

  I waved my phone at her and mouthed, “check your phone.”

  As she dug into her backpack, I opened a dialogue box.

  Prof’s twenty-nine.

  How do you know that? The LMS portal doesn’t give ages, you know. He’s a professor, so he’s got to be older.

  My fingers flew over the keys like lightning.

  I know because he’s the one I made out with last night.

  I heard Carey gasp, and my face grew hotter still.

  Oh, my goodness, Ari! Your description did not do him justice at all! He is FINE!

  Carey! You’re of no help if you’re just looking at his hot bod. He’s my professor. What am I going to do?

  She giggled as her fingers flew over her phone. Well, at least now you can get your mystery man’s number. And you were right about his hot bod. He’s smoking!

  I rolled my eyes. Be serious. This situation is no joking matter. What am I going to do? You know the rule about student/teacher interaction.

  Well, did you know he was a professor when you were sucking his lips off and grinding on him?

  I shook my head. Of course not.

  Did he know you were a student here, and a student in one of his classes?

  I sighed. I don’t think I mentioned it. Well, Prof Buckley knows my age, but I don’t think he was thinking of my being a student here. And even if I was a college student, I might not have been studying at BCAS.

  So, if you didn’t say you were a student here, and especially one of his students, what’s the problem? I mean, if anything comes to light, you can plead ignorance.

  I sighed and nibbled my bottom lip. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard my name blared over the speaker.

  “Hartley going once. Hartley going twice? Do I have a Hartley, Ariana, here? Hartley going…”

  My hand shot up, “Here!”

  “And we have a Hartley.” He checked my name off on the list and continued taking attendance. I felt my phone vibrate.

  Wow! Are you sure it’s him? He sure didn’t seem to remember you.

  I shifted the backpack slightly. Look at the logo on the hoodie.

  Obediently Carey leaned over. As she sat back in her seat, I continued typing. Now, look at his jacket.

  I heard her gasp. Wow! Way to play it cool, Professor. This drama is HILARIOUS, Ari. You don’t do an
ything by halves, do you? Well done!

  I huffed silently. I’m done talking to you. I’m having a virtual crisis here, and you think it’s funny.

  Come on, Ari. You’ve got to see the humor here. Leave it to you to find the most handsome professor to make out with in a parking garage.

  Carey, please! Be serious! What am I going to do?

  I heard her sigh. Well, as I said earlier, did either of you know that this man was your professor and you were his student?

  No.

  So, you were just two random people who met in a shop, had a long conversation, felt an attraction, and made out. That’s all. He played it cool just now. So should you.

  I nibbled at my fingernail and realized that Carey was right. I took a deep breath. He played it cool. So would I. My head snapped up as a sheaf of papers hit the desk in front of me.

  “Take one and pass it along, please.”

  I watched as he moved to the next row and issued the same instruction. Cool as a cucumber. That’s how I was going to be. But that was easier said than done.

  As he walked back down to the front of the room, I watched how the fabric of his trousers hugged his rear, and I could not help but remember how tight his jeans had been yesterday. Then when he turned and leaned against the desk with his legs slightly spread, I remembered what it had felt like to be on top of him, nestled between those thighs and feeling his erection pulsing.

  “Your first course work piece will be due by next week. I expect it to use complete APA style. Any questions?” He looked directly at me.

  “Huh?”

  “Name?”

  “Ha-Hartley, Ariana.”

  “Do you have a question, Hartley?”

  I shook my head. “N-No, sir.”

  “Good. You looked a bit puzzled for a second there.” He looked around the room, “Kindly turn to page five.”

  My eyes grew wide. I turned to Carey and whispered.

  “Page five? When did we go through pages one through four?” I felt my heart fly into my mouth.

  She patted me on the arm and whispered back. “I understand your head isn’t altogether here right now. I’ll catch you up when we get home. But try to pay enough attention so he doesn’t call on you again. Take notes. At least pretend to.”

  I nodded, opened my notebook, and took up a pencil. Carey leaned over again with a mischievous grin.

  “For the record, though, he can’t stop looking this way.”

  I glanced up quickly and was just in time to see his eyes sliding away. I noted how he looked lingeringly at each of his students. I shook my head and pulled out my phone again.

  Nope. Those eyes linger when they look at everyone.

  Carey shrugged. Whatever you say.

  The next two hours were sheer torture. I had spent seven hours with B.B. just the day before yesterday, but he was looking through me as if he had no recollection of our time in the bubble tea shop, or of what had transpired afterward. Every cool, impersonal word he spoke was like a stab to my senses. I was sure he recognized me! How could he not? I was wearing his hoodie, for crying out loud. Was this the same man who had uncontrollably laughed when I had shared about one of my Chemistry experiments that had gone wrong and had left me with no eyebrows and purple hair for a few weeks? Now and then, I looked up at the face which might have been carved in granite.

  I kept my head bent over my notebook, but, try as I might, my thoughts were wild. I felt on edge. I eventually gave up the pretense of taking notes. Nothing was making sense in my head. I would have to depend on Carey to explain it all at home.

  I doodled with my pencil and found myself making a comic strip. The first panel was a front view of Wayling’s and showed me walking in. The bubble above my head showed me expressing how parched I was how badly I needed a bubble tea from Wayling’s.

  I became lost in my artwork and had just gotten to the panel where we were driving into the parking garage when there was movement all around me. With a start, I snapped out of my artistic zone. Was the class over? I looked over at Carey. She waved her phone at me at the same time I felt my phone vibrate.

  You should talk to him.

  I shook my head violently. Heck no!

  I’ll wait for you in the hall. She bent to put her notebook in her backpack. I placed my hand on her arm, leaned over, and whispered.

  “What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand? I can’t talk to him. Suppose it’s not even him? Suppose he seriously doesn’t remember who I am?”

  Carey rolled her eyes. “Get a grip, Ari! He knows who you are. You’re wearing his clothes. I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything or anyone. Talk to him. At least let him know that you didn’t know who he was when what happened between you two happened. I’ll be in the corridor.” She picked up her bag and stepped over me and into the walkway. I sighed heavily. She was right.

  Slowly I packed my bag. I watched from my peripheral view as the man at the front gathered the papers that were on his desk and placed them in his briefcase. I got out of my seat and slung my backpack over my shoulder. I walked towards the podium slowly. He looked up as I approached, then looked back down and continued packing his briefcase.

  “Professor Buckley?”

  “Yes?” He leaned against the desk and crossed his arms.

  I took a deep breath. “Look, I wanted to discuss yesterday. I had no idea who you were. I want you to know that I wasn’t trying to get you in trouble or anything like that. I didn’t even know I was taking this class until my roommate dragged me here this morning. I didn’t know you were the teacher until the very minute I walked in and saw you. The portal didn't have your name or anything. It only just updated. I swear. You’ve got to believe me. I would never…” I came to a halt as he held up his hand.

  “Hartley. Ariana. Ari. Relax. It’s cool. Yesterday we were just two random people who met and got caught up in a moment. Okay? Whatever we thought we felt was just the heat of the moment. And it won’t happen again. I promise you that.”

  I looked at him. I wasn’t sure how I wanted to feel. On the one hand, it was a relief to know that he wouldn’t think I had set him up or anything like that, and that we could have an ordinary student/teacher interaction. But on the other hand, I was disappointed that he was so casual about what had happened and was so quick to brush it aside as our having been “caught up in the moment.” I, for one, felt as if there had been some real chemistry between us, not only during the ‘moment’ in the parking garage. What about the bubble tea shop? The long and interesting conversation in which we hadn’t even realized time was passing? What about him giving me his hoodie?

  I sniffed it one last time before slipping my backpack off.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Oh. I forgot to return this yesterday.” I started to unzip the hoodie, but he waved his hand.

  “No. that’s okay. You can keep it. I’ve got a ton more, as you can see.” He motioned to the jacket that he was wearing.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. Keep it.”

  I zipped it up again and picked up my backpack. “Okay. I’m glad we got that out in the open. It would have been a bit awkward going through the semester with that weighing on me.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Maybe, next class, you can take notes and stay abreast of what I’m discussing. See you next week.” He continued packing his briefcase.

  My cheeks flushed. I knew a dismissal when I saw it. I beat a hasty retreat and did not take a single breath until I was in the corridor with Carey.

  “So?” She quirked an eyebrow questioningly.

  “So.” I looked around and drew closer to her. This was not the kind of conversation that I wanted anyone to overhear.

  “He knew it was me. He said it was just a moment that we got caught up in, and it won’t happen again. I offered to give him back the hoodie. He told me to keep it.”

  “Well, I guess that’s it, then.”

  I nodded. “That’s it.” I glanced
at my phone. It was a little after twelve. “Let’s grab some lunch. My next class is at one.”

  Chapter 5

  B.B.

  Of course, I had known it was her! The second she had walked into the room, I had frozen. As she walked out, I looked at the sway of her hips, the same hips I had held in my hands not even twenty-four hours ago.

  I released the breath I seemed to have been holding for the past three hours. What were the damn odds that the beautiful woman I had met and made out with would turn out to be one of my students?

  I was thankful for small mercies, though. At least I had not run into my mystery girl again and finished what we had started, then found out that she was my student.

  It had seemed surreal when she had entered the room wearing my hoodie. Then when I had looked at my class list and confirmed that there was indeed an Ariana Hartley on it, I was almost rendered speechless. I had played it cool, though. There had been no show of emotion throughout. But inside, I was dying.

  I had worked too hard and come too far to attain this dream. I was not going to have it all shot to pieces because of a few moments in a parking garage. I had worked hard to develop my social networking app, B-Squared. Its creation had made me a billionaire overnight, and I was able to go into “retirement” at twenty-seven. And now, instead of coming up with new apps and platforms, I had handed over the formal running of my empire to my best friend and partner, Ollivander Ignus, while I pursued my true passion for teaching. It was Ollie who had encouraged me to apply for this position. He had seen the advertisement at the beginning of summer. And on my first day on my dream job I had already committed the cardinal college sin of inappropriate conduct with a student. Try as I might, I could claim no justification for it. Granted, at our first meeting I had not known she was a student. According to her, she had not known I was a professor either. So, we could both claim ignorance on that point. I still felt as if I could kick myself. As I replayed snippets of our conversation in the tea shop, I shook my head. There had been so many clues that I should have picked up on. We were in a college town. It would stand to reason that the average person in her twenties would be a student at one of the three colleges within a ten-mile radius. Then there was the whole discussion of how indecisive she had been about her future career. That was typically something a college student would struggle to decide. The signs were all there: I had ignored them I groaned again. What had been the odds of her being at my college and in my class?