by Holly Kelly
Fae cracked a smile.
“You’re in room one seventy-nine.” She glanced behind Fae and pointed. “Just down that hall, dearie.”
Fae made her way, avoiding curious eyes. She always drew attention wherever she went—though she tried her best not to. Her platinum blonde hair and icy-blue eyes made her stand out. There wasn’t much she could do about her eyes, but she’d tried dying her hair brunette once. It ended in a disaster and took a painfully long time to grow out enough to cut off. Since then, she’d given up on it.
Stepping up to the door, she debated whether to knock. No. This was her room too. She didn’t need to ask permission to go inside. Clutching the knob, she turned it.
A cheerful smile from a young girl greeted her.
“Hey roomie!” The girl bounced off the bottom mattress of a bunk bed and stood, grinning widely.
“Morgan, right?” Fae asked.
“Yeah,” she answered. Fae didn’t think her smile could get any wider, but somehow Morgan accomplished it. “Wow, is that your natural eye color?”
“Um, yeah,” Fae said, brushing a curl behind her ear.
“That’s seriously amazing!”
“Thanks. I’m Fae.”
“Oh, sweet!” Morgan turned around and plopped down on her bed again. “Fae,” she said, as if she were giving her name a test drive on her tongue. “That totally fits you.”
“Really?” Fae had always hated her name. But it was better than Fontaine. Seriously, who names a girl Fontaine?
“Yeah,” Morgan answered, her head bobbing up and down. “With your wickedly awesome blond hair and amazing eyes, you almost look like a fairy. Did your parents drop you off? My mom and dad followed me everywhere around campus when we first got here. It was so embarrassing.” She huffed and threw herself back against the bed.
“No, um.” Fae dropped her bag down and looked up at the top bunk. “I came here by myself.”
Morgan scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. “You’re a freshman, right?”
Fae nodded.
“So, your parents—”
“No,” Fae interrupted. “I don’t have any parents.”
Morgan sat up, her eyes wide. “Really?”
“Yeah,” she answered as she walked over to a dresser. “Is this one empty?”
Morgan nodded and said, “That’s sad. What happened to them?”
The question caught Fae off guard. Most people didn’t ask such personal questions of strangers. Should she answer her? Maybe if she only answered the bare minimum. “I never met them.” She pulled a drawer open and started filling it with clothes.
“Then who raised you?” Morgan asked.
Fae sighed. “I was raised by a woman who knew my mom.” Sort of.
“Oh,” Morgan said with her brows creased together in confusion. “What’s her name?”
“Brigitte.”
“Well, where is she?”
“She’s in jail.” Fae didn’t bother with neatness as she stuffed the rest of her bag into her drawers. She’d have to organize it later. She had a sudden desire to leave the awkwardness of the conversation. “Listen, I’m going to look around campus.”
Morgan jumped up, smiling once again. “Do you need a tour?”
Is this girl for real? She just told her the woman who raised her was in jail, and now she wanted to give her a tour? Fae cracked a grin. “Uh, yeah. I guess so.”
Morgan shoved her feet into her shoes and stood.
“You’re not freaked out about my…” Fae began.
When she hesitated, Morgan said, “Foster mom being in jail? Nah, my uncle’s in prison. The big one. He got mad at his girlfriend for cheating on him and ran her down with his oversized truck. Killed her on the spot. I heard it was pretty gory. But he was always nice to me,” she said with a shrug.
Fae found herself shaking her head and suppressing a smile at Morgan’s candid talk about something so horrific. Fae knew she shouldn’t be amused about a murder, but still, Morgan was quite a unique character. Fae liked her already. Maybe this year would be a good one, after all.
Fae followed Morgan into the hall.
“Candice and Brie are our next-door neighbors on this side.” She pointed to the door on the right. “They’re pretty nice. And the bathroom and showers are on the other side.” She pointed to the door on the left. “We’re really lucky. It’s the only bathroom on this floor. If you like to shower in the morning, you’d better do it early. There’s no hot water by seven o’clock. So, what are you majoring in?” Morgan opened the door to the outside, and Fae followed her out.
“Criminal justice.”
“Really? Is it because of your foster mother?”
“Partly.” Fae looked at her new friend. “What’s your major?”
“Art,” she answered enthusiastically. “I adore sketching, painting, sculpting, and do you know what?” Morgan didn’t give her a chance to answer before she blurted, “They use nude models here.” Morgan smiled with her eyebrow raised. “Seriously, they’re totally in the buff! And if you’re lucky, they are buff. But they stress that models and students are not allowed to talk to each other, much less date. My mom told me I couldn’t take figure drawing because of it. But I’m an adult. I don’t even have to tell her what I’m taking. Do you get to learn to shoot?”
“What?” Fae asked, confused at the turn in the conversation.
“In your criminal justice classes. I’m assuming you’re learning to fight crime.”
Fae shook her head. “My focus is purely on investigation.”
“Yeah, but even detectives have to carry a gun.”
“They don’t allow guns on campus,” Fae said.
“Oh, right,” Morgan said. “Maybe they’ll have you shoot somewhere off campus, like at a police shooting range.”
“I doubt it.” Fae didn’t mention she was already very adept at handling guns.
“Huh.” Morgan shrugged, and then continued to chatter nonstop. This girl’s mind ran a mile a minute.
Morgan stopped in front of a building. “And here we are at the criminal justice building—at least where they have most of the classes.”
Fae looked up at the imposing structure. Well, it was imposing to her. She’d never been to public school. She’d actually had little formal education—until this past year. Thank heavens she learned fast. And her unique situation led to a full-ride scholarship. So now, here she was, in college…and it was seriously starting to freak her out.
“Do you have any classes here tomorrow?” Morgan asked.
Someone brushed by Fae, nearly knocking her over. A man ran toward the building. He glanced over his shoulder and flashed a smile. “Sorry.”
Fae found herself suddenly breathless. That man was seriously hot—tall, muscular, with a tan you only got from being outside a lot.
“Do you think that’s a student?” Fae asked.
“Gawd, I hope so,” Morgan said, fanning herself. She whipped her head around, facing Fae. “What do you say we find out?”
“What?”
“Your criminal justice education starts now,” she said, pulling Fae toward the door. “Let’s investigate.”
Fae resisted. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Oh, come on,” Morgan said. “Live a little. This is college. We’re supposed to do stupid things.”
Fae sighed and said, “Oh, all right.”
They glimpsed him just as he dashed up the stairs. “Let’s go,” Morgan said, and then whispered, “Quietly.”
They stepped up to a dark hallway and heard voices down the hall. “Looks like most of the professors are gone for the day,” Morgan whispered.
“There’s no good place to hide,” Fae whispered back.
“If he comes out, we’ll just act natural.”
“Act natural?” Fae repeated.
“Yeah,” she answered confidently. “If he asks, we’ll say we were figuring out where all your classes are. Do you have any classes arou
nd here?”
Fae pulled out her map and found she did have a class here. In fact, she did, in this exact room. “Yes,” she whispered, and gestured to the door. “In there.”
“Sweet.” Morgan smiled broadly and then put her ear to the door.
Fae followed.
“I have a job,” a deep voice said.
“It’s only one class,” another man’s voice responded. “Two times a week. And it pays well.”
“And how much is that?”
“Considering the hours, twice what you’re making with the FBI.”
Morgan’s eyes widened, and she mouthed, “FBI?”
“How do you know how much I make?” the voice answered.
“I did my homework.”
“I don’t know if I can swing it.”
“I’ve already cleared it with your boss. She thinks it’s great for public relations.”
There was silence. Fae jumped when Morgan whispered, “I wonder which one’s which?”
Fae shrugged.
“It’s only Introduction to the Criminal Justice System,” he said, “Tuesdays and Thursdays at seven o’clock a.m.”
“Oh, my gosh,” Fae said. “That’s my class.”
Morgan turned to her, her mouth dropping wide open. “If the hottie ends up teaching your class, I’ll seriously consider changing my major.”
“You could teach that class in your sleep,” the man continued.
“I just don’t think I can find the time,” the FBI guy said. “They have me putting in extra hours to wrap up an investigation.”
“Well, just think about it. But think fast. Class starts tomorrow.”
“Thanks for not giving me any pressure. I gotta go. I’ll let you know tonight.”
“Thanks, Nick.” Footsteps indicated they were approaching.
“Oh, no,” Fae said.
“Shh!” Morgan whispered. “Remember, we’re just finding your class.”
“Right,” she said as the door opened.
“Whoa,” the hottie said as he stopped in his tracks. “You girls lost?”
“Nope,” Morgan said, cheerful. “We’re just looking for my roommate’s classes. She has Introduction to the Criminal Justice System tomorrow at seven.”
He gave Morgan a passing glance, then locked eyes with Fae and raised his eyebrows. “Does she, now?”
Fae looked down, avoiding his gaze.
“Well,” he said, “it so happens I’ll be the teacher for that class.”
“Professor.” Another man stepped from behind him.
“Right. Professor.”
Fae glanced up and caught him watching her. His intense blue eyes made her tingle all over. He looked even better up close!
The other man took the professor by the arm and said, “Sorry we can’t stay and chat, girls. Professor Chase has a lot of paperwork and policies to sign—including that all-important ‘no-fraternizing-with-your-students’ policy.”
Nick blinked and turned to him. “Right. Student/teacher relationship stuff.”
The moment they were out of sight, Morgan exclaimed, “Holy wow! He seriously has the hots for you.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Fae said as heat filled her cheeks.
“Oh yeah, he totally does,” she said. “He couldn’t take his eyes off you. And he’s even freakin’ taking the teaching job because of you.”
“I seriously doubt that.” Fae shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s a professor, I’m a student. We can’t date.”
“Huh,” she huffed, frowning. “Well, that stinks. But…you can date him next term. Though, that is four months from now.” Her excitement deflated as she spoke. “Oh well, let’s see where your other classes are.”
Chapter 2
Nick slouched down into the chair across from Anthony’s desk.
“I’ve half a mind to rescind my offer,” Anthony said, scowling down at him.
“What? You offered, and I accepted.” Nick raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were desperate.”
“And I’m sure you’ll tell me that you accepting the job had nothing to do with the student you just met?”
Nick shrugged. “It’s just coincidence.”
“Right,” Anthony said, drawing out the word. “How long has it been since you’ve seen a woman that beautiful?”
“She’s not my type,” Nick said.
“Not your type?” Anthony repeated, doubt ringing loudly in his voice.
“Yeah.”
“She’d better not be,” Anthony said. “Because if I find out you’re sleeping with her or any of your other students, I’ll personally fire you and report the act to your superiors at the FBI. We have to maintain a professional environment, and that does not include fraternizing with the students.”
“Understood,” Nick said as he tried to wipe her face from his mind. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed. Her eyes haunted him even now—that was one downside to having a photographic memory. Images tended to replay in his mind. Getting involved with that woman would not be good for his career. He could take or leave the teaching job, but the bureau was his life.
Despite knowing that he should turn down the job, he found himself filling out paperwork. About five minutes into it, his phone vibrated.
“Hey, Don,” Nick said.
“Hey, back,” Don said. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but Young wants you to finish up the Petersen file and have it to her by ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, yeah?” Nick frowned. “You might want to remind her about her recommendation for me to teach at a certain local college. Apparently, she said it would be good for public relations.”
“You. Teach college?” Nick could hear the smile in Don’s voice.
“Do you have an issue with that?”
Don laughed. “I knew you in college. You’re the last person I’d ever picture teaching there.”
“I graduated at the top of my class,” Nick said.
“It’s not the grades I’m talking about. I’m talking about your…behavior. Need I remind you what happened with the cheerleading squad?”
“Oh no, you just had to bring that up. I was young and I was drunk.”
“Apparently not drunk enough.”
“Oh, shut up.” Nick rubbed his temples. A headache built behind his eyes. “Listen, I’ve got a lot of work to do. Lesson plans to make.”
“You’d better add the Petersen file to your workload because Young wasn’t kidding.”
Nick swore. “Yeah, I’ll have it to her by ten.” He hung up and sighed. It looks like he’ll need some coffee—about a gallon of it.
* * * * *
Nick walked into his classroom with papers under his arm and about an hour’s worth of sleep under his belt. At least he finished the Petersen case. Perhaps he could actually get in a full eight hours tonight. Why did he even accept this job? It wasn’t like he had lots of extra time.
Looking down at the class list, he wondered which name belonged to the girl from yesterday. They never did introduce themselves. No. He chided himself. She was a student taking a lower-level undergraduate class. Probably a freshman, barely out of high school—much too young for someone his age.
Young men started filing in and taking seats. Fifteen students later, there was yet to be a girl in the class, much less the girl he wanted to see. From the looks of the roll, there were only five women in a class of a thirty. And here was one. A dark, short-haired girl with thick glasses entered first. No one even glanced her way. Of course, she wasn’t trying to get anyone’s attention. She kept her head down and her eyes on the floor. She’d have to learn to be more observant of her environment if she wanted to go into law enforcement.
Ten more boys and three more girls entered. That was everyone but one student. Glancing at the clock, there were only seconds before class started.
And there she was with a can of Coke in one hand and a stack of books in the other. All eyes were on her as she rushed through the door just a
s the second-hand passed over the twelve.
“Just in time, Ms…Thomas?”
She shook her head. “Miller,” she answered breathlessly. “Fae Miller.”
“Miller?” he asked, worried she’d made a mistake and wasn’t in his class after all.
“I registered late,” she said, setting her soda down, pulling out a creased yellow paper, and unfolding it for him. Relieved, he signed it and handed it back.
“Are you a transfer student?” he asked, wondering at her age. She seriously didn’t look like she’d just graduated from high school. “You don’t look young enough to be a freshman,” he said. He needed to know how old she was. If she were eighteen, or heaven forbid, seventeen, he’d have to whip himself for lusting after a child.
“I am a freshman,” she said as a blush rose in her cheeks. “But I got a late start in college. I just turned twenty-two.”
He felt bad for embarrassing her in front of the class. But at the same time, he was relieved. A twenty-two-year-old woman was perfectly fine to lust after. Now if only she weren’t his student.
“How soon you start college doesn’t matter,” he said. “It’s finishing that’s important.” His statement earned a smile from her that warmed her icy-cool eyes. His heart missed a beat. He’d never seen a more beautiful woman. And the way she blushed so easily made her seem sweet, innocent—nothing like any other girl he’d dated. She definitely wasn’t what he’d consider his “type.”
She took her seat and he turned to address the students. “My name is Professor Chase, and I’ll be teaching Introduction to the Criminal Justice System. You might ask yourself why a young guy like me is qualified to teach this class. Well, I’m also known as Special Agent Chase of the FBI.”
That earned him some “oohs” and “aahs” from the class and some whispers between the students.
“My specialty is Missing Person’s Investigation. I look for people who are lost, kidnapped, or have just turned up missing.”
Several hands went up. Nick looked around, considering calling on someone when he noticed Fae with her hand high in the air and excitement in her eyes. He stopped himself from smiling.
“Ms. Miller,” he said professionally, and nodded toward her. “Do you have a question?”
