I sighed. “Eden, this isn’t a good idea,” I told her, and I could feel the barrier rising between us once again. That elicited a strange blend of feelings in me – I knew that I should be relieved, but I felt almost sad.
Jesus, that was pathetic. I was clearly in need of deep connection.
But it wasn’t going to be with Eden Cooper, a student.
No.
“I know,” Eden said. Her big brown eyes were pleading with me. “But like, I really don’t have that much in my bank account right now, and I don’t get paid from the bookstore until the end of the month, and like, that has to go towards rent and bills and stuff, and—”
“Fine,” I said shortly. “I’ll drive you home, okay?”
Eden nodded. She looked guilty, which perhaps should have made me feel better.
It wasn’t like she planned this, I told myself as I paid the tab for us. Eden followed me out to my car, practically trotting after me.
“This is your car?”
I nodded.
She smiled, and I felt a twinge of annoyance. It was almost too cute, the way she vacillated from talking like an adult to acting like a kid.
“What?” I asked. “What’s so amusing?”
“It’s nothing,” Eden said, covering her mouth with one hand so I wouldn’t see that she was still smiling.
We got into my car and I had to resist the urge to reach over her and buckle her seatbelt for her. She was tipsy and giggling and her whole body was shaking with the force of her laughter.
“Eden,” I said slowly. “Out with it. Tell me.”
“It’s just ...” She trailed off and looked at me, blinking. “You’re this big, bad professor who has bumper stickers all over the back of his car.”
I groaned as I down-shifted and pulled out of the parking lot. “I’ve had this car since I was in grad school,” I replied. “That’s all.”
“You just ... seem so much like the plain, no statement kind of guy, that’s all,” Eden said.
I didn’t say anything, just drove on. The sun had set and the air was dark and cold – even my little car was taking longer than usual to warm up. But the air between Eden and myself was electric, and I could feel her next to me.
“Where do you live?”
Eden gulped. “I told you, campus is fine,” she said.
“It’s dark out, and cold,” I told her sternly. I wouldn’t have admitted it to her, but I felt so protective of her in that moment – like she was something precious, something special.
Something in desperate need of caring.
“I can walk, I do it all the time,” Eden said. She laughed. “Sometimes I walk to campus in the middle of the night, just to work in the library. Is that ridiculous? I don’t miss living in the dorms, but I kind of miss the sense of community, you know?”
“You’re free to do that on your own time,” I informed her. “But I’m taking you home.”
Eden bit her lip. Then, she gave me an address of an apartment complex not far from campus. The car trip seemed to take no time at all and just like that, I was pulling into the complex and slowing down.
“Um, thanks,” Eden said. She put her hand on the door and turned to look at me. In the semi-darkness, I could see her profile – cheek, lip, nose, all adorable.
“You’re welcome,” I said, feeling oddly formal.
And just like that, before I could even think about what was happening, my mouth was on hers.
11
Eden – Sunday
I couldn’t believe it – Professor Marks had leaned forward and tangled his hand in my hair and now we were kissing. He tasted like spice and beer and musk and I moaned as his tongue slid into my mouth and tasted me, licked me, sucked me. A flurry of intense, exciting feelings tore through my body and I moaned softly as my heart thudded faster in my chest and my pussy began to tingle and throb.
I leaned closer and wrapped my arms around him, twisting until our bodies were pressed together. He was strong and muscular beneath his sweater and shirt and he groaned with apparent lust as the kiss grew messier and deeper. His hands were running all over my body, touching me, cupping me, squeezing my ass as they roamed and explored. It felt so good that I never wanted it to end, never wanted it to stop. When Professor Marks pulled away, I was gasping and panting for breath.
“Eden, get out,” he said in a hoarse voice.
“We should talk about this,” I replied quickly. “You could come up, I don’t think Petra is home, and—”
“Out!” Professor Marks practically shouted at me. His harsh words were like a slap in the face and I felt tears sting my eyes as I fumbled with the handle of the door and climbed out of his car. He drove away quickly, tires screeching as he pulled out of the parking lot before I was even fully on my feet.
My heart was still thudding and if it hadn’t been for the lingering taste of his mouth in mine, I would have imagined that I’d dreamed the whole thing.
How had it happened? Our passionate kiss had taken me by such surprise that I couldn’t even remember who had made the first move. Had I leaned in and kissed him?
Or had he taken me?
Did he want me, as I suspected he did?
And if he did, why had he been so cold and mean after we’d broken apart?
My stomach flip-flopped with anxiety as I walked into my building and climbed the stairs to my apartment. Thankfully, Petra wasn’t home – the living room was cold and dark – and I quietly walked down the hall and into the bathroom where I turned on the shower, as hot as it would go.
Thoughts swam in my head. I wanted him, so much – our conversation at the brewery had only proven the intense chemistry between us. And even though his words had told me to go, to leave, to get away from him, his body and mouth and hands had said otherwise.
I just hoped that soon, I’d have an answer about the fate of our relationship.
Just thinking about the word was enough to bring a smile to my face and make me blush.
Our relationship, I thought as I shed my clothes and climbed in the shower, under the hot spray. We may not be together. But we’re something.
The next day, I didn’t go to class. I stayed at home all day, in bed, and told Petra that I was sick. When Tuesday, time for my next class with Professor Marks, rolled around I felt like skipping. But Petra stood in the doorway and tapped her wrist.
“It’s way too early in the semester to be getting senioritis, kid,” she said, rolling her eyes like she was my older sister or mother instead of my best friend.
“I don’t feel well,” I said in a small voice. I hadn’t told her about what had happened in Professor Marks’s car after he’d driven me home from the brewery. There was no way I could tell her, and thankfully she hadn’t pressed. Petra and her boyfriend, Evan, were back on, and all she could talk about was his hands and his dick and the way he knew how to go down on her like a pro.
I had the feeling that normally, talk like that would have annoyed me. It didn’t annoy me now, though – it just made me glad that she had something to focus on that wasn’t me and my absurd, silly little crush on Professor Marks.
It was more than a crush, though, and the kiss had proven that.
“Well, tough shit,” Petra chirped. “Get up – the best way to shake it off is to pretend like everything is fine.”
I eyed her, but she wasn’t budging.
“Come on,” Petra added. “Let’s go – you don’t want to miss your class with Professor Dreamboat, right?”
I blushed hotly.
“Hey,” she said, completely misinterpreting my look. “It’s not my fault that you have a crush on him.” Petra paused and raised an eyebrow at me. “When you get over him, I’ll call him by his real name.”
I got dressed in jeans and a big sweater with a t-shirt underneath, and we started the walk to campus. The day was warmer than the previous weekend had been – the snow was melting and there was a hint of green in the dead grass below our feet – and it made me
think that maybe, just maybe, spring was on the way. The whole walk to Oakbrook, Petra chatted about Evan and their weekend plans and all the things they were going to do after graduation.
The word graduation was enough to make me feel sick to my stomach. What would happen?
Would I ever see Professor Marks again, or would that be it for us?
Would he find a new student to dote on?
Going to class and getting away from Petra was almost a relief. We parted at the Liberal Arts building and I made my way up the stairs, where most of the class was already sitting.
Professor Marks didn’t look up when I walked in, and I blushed hotly as I took my seat. I couldn’t look at him without thinking of our hot, steamy kiss ... and how I wanted more of him, as soon as possible.
It was torture, watching him stand at the front of the room and lecture us. He was everything I wanted – everything I’d ever wanted, since I was a little kid who had first heard of love – and I couldn’t have him, but he was right in front of me, so close that I could reach out and touch him.
The only good thing about the morning was how quickly it passed. On the way out of the classroom, one of the other girls paused in front of me. She reached out and stroked Professor Marks’s arm, making him jump.
“Sorry,” she said coyly. “You had some fluff on your sleeve.”
Professor Marks merely gave her a look, then left the room. I watched him walk down the hall to the English suite and my stomach churned anxiously. I had a few minutes before my tech seminar and after taking a deep breath, I raced after him.
“Professor Marks!” I called, right before he went into his office. When he turned to face me, his expression was stony and impassive.
“Yes, Ms. Cooper?”
“I ... I, um, wanted to ask you something,” I said anxiously.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Yes?”
“Why ...” I trailed off. “Um, why did you go into academia, anyway? Instead of like, writing or publishing or something?”
Professor Marks knitted his eyebrows together. “Why are you asking that?”
My mouth went dry. Because I’m desperate to talk to you, and I have no fucking idea what to say, I thought. Come on, read between the lines!
If he could sense my thoughts, he gave no indication of it.
“Because I’m thinking about what I should do after graduation,” I said lamely.
“I guess it’s because I didn’t feel like living in the real world,” Professor Marks said slowly. “And academia is the perfect way to escape that.”
I nodded. The feelings inside me were too much, and I had to leave before I did something insanely stupid like vomit down the front of his sweater. But as I was leaving, he reached out and touched my arm. It was a soft touch, one that no one could have possibly seen as it was over in the blink of an eye.
“What?” I asked, breathing hard.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
Professor Marks cleared his throat. “For asking. It’s nice to see when students are engaged with their future possibilities.”
My heart sank. Just when I had thought he was about to say something meaningful and deep, he’d put on his big dumb professor face once again.
“You should be getting to your next class, Eden,” Professor Marks said.
It was only when I was halfway across campus that I realized he’d called me by my first name, not ‘Ms. Cooper’ as he usually did. I was late to my tech core seminar, and I slipped in, hoping to sit unobtrusively in the back. But the professor, a tired-looking, middle-aged man, spotted me and raised an eyebrow.
“Eden, please have a chat with me after class,” he said, and my stomach began twisting in knots. I barely paid attention during his lecture, doodling over my notebook instead of taking notes. When the seminar was over, the other students flooded into the hall but the professor motioned for me to come have a seat by his desk.
“I’m sorry that I was late,” I rambled. “I was—”
“Eden, please,” he said, not unkindly. He gave me a strange look. “I know it must be hard – a senior in a class full of underclassmen.”
“I don’t get it,” I said slowly. “Am I in trouble?”
The professor sighed. “Eden, I’m not going to lie – I’m concerned. You’ve already missed more classes than I’d generally recommend for the entire semester, and we’re not even at mid-terms yet. And I understand, you don’t want to be here. But you ought to be more respectful of my time, and of your own.”
I blinked at him. “Are ... are you saying that I’m failing?”
“I’m saying that you’ll need to work a little harder,” the professor continued.
“My life is kind of a mess right now,” I said weakly. “I have a lot going on.”
“Then I suggest you schedule an appointment with a counselor at the wellness center,” he said drily. “And please, do start coming to class.”
I left the classroom feeling chastened, but the feeling dissipated in mere seconds when I remembered my conundrum with Professor Marks.
And wondered where the hell the two of us were going to go from here. What had he meant when he’d made that comment about my future, anyway? Was he already happy to be rid of me at the end of the semester?
Or was he happy that then, at least we’d be free to date without criticism? I’d heard of professors marrying their grad students all the time ... but I wasn’t a grad student. I was twenty-one years old, barely a legal adult.
And Professor Marks was old enough to be my father.
Just thinking about the situation made my head ache. I had a shift at the bookstore that afternoon but I called in sick, then went home and sat in the bath until the water turned lukewarm and chilly around my naked thighs.
What on Earth was I going to do?
12
Will – Wednesday
“How’s your semester going?”
Peter, my TA and grad student, shrugged. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s going pretty fast so far,” he added. “What about you?”
I didn’t say anything for a moment. I didn’t know how to tell the truth – I liked Peter, he was a smart kid with a good head on his shoulders – without sounding like an asshole. As his advisor, I should have been spending a lot more time with Peter and working closely with him to make sure that he graduated on time. That was my role, after all.
But this whole fucking mess with Eden had completely skewed the way I was approaching life in general, not just my work at Oakbrook. I felt guilty – Peter should have had a better advisor, someone who would have taken far more of an active interest in his life.
“It’s fine,” I said. “Hectic. I apologize that we haven’t been meeting as much as we should be.”
Peter shrugged again, and I felt a pang of guilt accompanied by anger – with myself, of course, not him.
“Well, things will calm down,” Peter said finally. He narrowed his eyes. “How are classes going? You want me to step in and teach that freshman seminar again?” Before I could reply, he chuckled. “Those kids are so dumb, but I don’t even know if it’s their fault ... it’s like schools don’t even bother teaching grammar anymore. One kid told me that he didn’t even know what a compound sentence was until he learned in Spanish class.”
I nodded. “That sounds about right,” I admitted. “But it’s your job to get them up to snuff so they can be in regular classes next semester.”
Peter nodded. “I’m thinking about teaching,” he said. Immediately, I thought about Eden – what was she thinking about doing when she graduated? But Peter misread the look on my face and laughed. “I know it’s tough at first,” he said. “But honestly, I’m ready for a challenge. And my girlfriend and I just broke up, so it’s not like I have to worry about dealing with long distance. Like, I was concerned about that ... well, that and the pay, but I think things will be fine.”
He kept talking. I tried to pay attention but now that Eden
had entered my brain once again, I found it nearly impossible to get rid of her.
This was fucking insane, and it had to end.
Like, yesterday.
Jesus – I was even starting to pick up on Eden’s lexicon. Like and um and totally were entering my head, as if I was regressing in age.
Fucking hell.
“Anyway,” I said to Peter. “If you could step in and handle the seminar tomorrow, I would really appreciate it. I have some grading to do from my seniors.”
“How are they doing?” Peter asked. “Anyone promising?”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Who?”
“Eden Cooper,” I said, trying as hard as I could to keep my voice neutral.
“Oh, yeah?” Peter asked. He narrowed his eyes at me. “You think she’s going to head for grad school? She always seemed pretty average to me.”
You’re wrong, I thought. There’s nothing average about her.
“I don’t know,” I said drily. “But she won’t be doing so at Oakbrook.”
Peter looked confused, but he nodded. We said goodbye and I went to my office, where I sat behind my desk and left the door open. I hadn’t been there for ten seconds before Gina appeared in the doorway.
“Hey, you,” she said playfully, and I smelled a strong wave of perfume wafting towards me. “Time for a chat?”
“What about?” I asked.
Gina came in and plopped down, crossing her legs at the knee. “That departmental meeting we have coming up,” she said. “I wanted to go to this conference later in the semester, but I have a feeling that I’ll be denied unless I have someone else in my corner.”
“Me?” I asked dumbly.
Gina laughed. When she realized that I was serious, she frowned and nodded.
“Well, yes,” she said. “What’s the problem? We’ve repped Oakbrook before, and done a damn good job of it.” When I didn’t answer right away, she cocked her head to the side and gave me a pointed look. “And I know we’d do an even better job now,” she said. “Mr. Tenure-track, and all. Don’t you want another feather in that cap of yours?”
Forbidden First Times: A Contemporary Romance Collection Page 109
