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 be
tter job now,” she said. “Mr. Tenure-track, and all. Don’t you want another feather in that cap of yours?”
“Sure,” I said. “But this semester is crazy,” I told her. “I don’t know that I can afford to really take any time off.”
Gina pursed her lips. “I don’t understand what’s so different about this semester,” she said. “I mean, if you’re anything like me, you’re dying for some time off, right?”
I didn’t answer.
“Will, come on,” Gina said, sounding more like a whiny teen than a fellow professor. “A nice long flight in first class, a hotel with a pool. We’ll pick a conference somewhere warm, like Florida or Arizona,” she continued, then flashed me a wicked grin. “And maybe even fib about the dates so we can stay an extra day or two. We don’t have to submit all of our receipts for reimbursement, you know,” she added, raising an eyebrow at me. “I bet no one would bat an eye.”
I frowned at her.
“I don’t think I can take the time off,” I said. “Especially not for what would basically amount to a vacation.”
“Oh, you’re no fun, Will,” Gina purred, still pouting. “What do I have to do here? We’ve had fun before. I’ll make absolutely sure that we have fun again.”
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. I was too tired, too fucking tired for this conversation.
“Look,” I said sharply. “I know you’re implying something here, and I don’t like it. You’re a great academic and I respect you as a colleague, but there’s no way that anything is going to happen between us. I don’t date – or fool around – on campus, understand?”
Gina’s smile faded and she glared at me as she got to her feet, stalking out of my office and slamming the door behind her.
As soon as she was gone, I groaned. I was relieved that I’d finally come out and said something to Gina, but it had been a lie.
The truth was, I desperately wanted to date – and fool around – on campus.
Just, not with her.
My mind was fixed on Eden Cooper, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to relax until I had her and made her mine.
13
Eden – Thursday
It sounded crazy, even to me, but I felt like I was no longer living in the real world. Something had changed – something invisible and powerful, like a ghost or a higher power – and now, my life would never be the same.
Maybe I was being dramatic and naïve – a typical twenty-one-year-old.
But I didn’t think so. And when I looked around me, at the other students my age, I no longer felt like such an outcast. It wasn’t that they’d become more accepting because, spoiler alert: they hadn’t.
But I had become more accepting of myself.
And it was all thanks to Professor Marks. I wondered if he’d ignore me again.
I wondered if I’d be desperate enough to chase him down again like I’d done before. Thinking about it should have made me feel horrified and embarrassed, but all I could think about was the way he’d said my name, the way he’d touched my arm.
I should have been thinking about my tech core seminar and the best way to get my grade up, but truthfully that matter had slipped from my mind as soon as I’d left the classroom. I’ll get it together, I told myself.
I just need a little time – that’s all.
That morning, I woke up a long time before my alarm went off. I’d fallen asleep with the window open and my room was freezing cold – something that didn’t exactly incentivize me to slide out from under the covers and greet the world. I groaned and reached for my phone, then pulled the blankets up until they were nearly covering my face. As I mindlessly scrolled through Instagram and Facebook, I yawned and rubbed my eyes. I’d slept for almost ten hours, and I was still exhausted. My whole body ached, and for a moment I wondered if I was getting sick.
I wasn’t, though – I had to be just worn out from all of the excitement that had happened in my life as of late.
When I dragged myself out of bed, I pulled on my favorite hoodie and a pair of black jeans. The day outside was bright and cold but at least it wasn’t snowing, and I pulled on a pair of gray faux-leather boots to complete my outfit.
The sound of a plate crashing into the sink made me jump and bleat in surprise. As quickly as I could, I fixed my hair into a low bun and darted out of my room and into the kitchen.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Petra whirled around. Her mouth was pressed in a thin line and she glared at me.
“Sorry,” she muttered after a second. “I just woke up in a really bad mood.”
I looked at her with concern. She wasn’t dressed – she was still clad in her pajama shorts, t-shirt, and flowery pink cotton robe – and her hair was a mess. I was used to seeing her like this, but there was something different about her and it took me a moment to realize that her eyes were red and her face was splotchy.
Petra opened the fridge and took out a bottle of sparkling wine.
“You want a mimosa?”
“Of course,” I joked. “I’ll have two.”
Petra started to open the bottle and I shook my head. “I was kidding,” I said quickly. “Pet, we’ve got class, remember? What’s up with you?”
She gave me a dull look, then poured sparkling wine nearly to the brim of a plastic champagne flute. When she added the orange juice, she only added enough to turn the color of the drink a vague sunset color.
“Well, I’ll have yours for you,” she said brightly, but there was something wrong with her voice – cold and dark, like I’d never heard before.
“What’s wrong?” I pressed. She didn’t answer and I sat down at the island in the middle of the kitchen and reached for a muffin, nervously picking it apart with my fingers.
“Evan,” Petra huffed. “We broke up.”
“Broke up?” I asked. “Or just had another fight?”
Petra groaned. “Really, Eden, what’s the difference?” She asked.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. What happened?”
Petra downed half of her “mimosa” in one gulp – just watching her nearly made me wince – and set the cup down on the counter with such force that some of the cocktail splashed over the brim.
“I don’t even know, isn’t that so dumb?” She turned to me and pressed her lips together. “He said that like, he likes me. But that he isn’t a relationship guy.”
I frowned. “Men are so confusing,” I replied.
“They’re not. They’re simpletons,” Petra said. She sighed loudly and reached for her drink, draining the rest of it in a single gulp.
“I mean, I wouldn’t know what that means,” I said honestly. “If he likes you, why doesn’t he want to date you?”
“Eden, don’t be so naïve,” Petra said. She looked down at her body, then crossed her arms over her narrow chest. “I think that once we slept together, he decided he didn’t like the sex, or whatever. Or maybe he just didn’t like it enough to want to commit to me.”
I frowned. As much as I would have liked to believe something like sex wouldn’t be the determining factor in a relationship, I wasn’t that dumb – I knew better. Thinking of sex made my mind turn to Professor Marks, and the intense connection between us. With a connection like that, how could sex between us possibly be bad?
Blushing hotly, I shoved Professor Marks out of my mind and tried to turn my focus back to my best friend.
“He sounds like an ass,” I said. “You don’t want someone who isn’t honest with you, Petra.”
She nodded. “I know,” she said. “It’s ... well, it’s more embarrassing than anything else.”
I blinked. “I don’t get it,” I told her.
“It’s like ... ugh,” Petra groaned, putting her face in her hands and shaking her head. “Like, I made such an idiot of myself mooning over him and now he doesn’t even like me, and he’s probably going to go around telling people that I’m crazy, or whatever.”
I s
till wasn’t sure that I understood, but I nodded all the same. Right now, I knew that my job was to be as supportive of Petra as possible, even if I didn’t get what she was going through.
“Anyway,” Petra said, shaking her head again and fixing me with a determined look. “We should have fun today. You should skip class with me and hang out here. We’ll order sushi or something.”
I winced. “I have my senior sem this morning,” I told her. “And then that tech class.”
“Oh my gosh, Eden, blow it off,” Petra said.
I shook my head. Embarrassed was how I felt when I recalled my conversation with the professor of my tech seminar – it was a class with basic freshman material, and apparently, I was perilously close to failing. As many secrets as Petra and I had shared over the years, the idea of flunking a basic core class was far too mortifying to divulge. I couldn’t even think about it myself without wanting to melt into the ground. The entire time I’d been at Oakbrook, my lowest grade had been a B-, and I’d agonized over that for weeks.
“I really can’t,” I said. “I’m sorry. How about if we get dinner on campus or something tonight? My treat.”
Petra frowned at me. “What, you’re worried about missing out on the chance to start at Professor Sexy?”
My cheeks turned hot and red. “You have to stop calling him those ridiculous nicknames,” I said quickly. “What if you blurt it out in front of someone else by mistake?”
“Then they won’t know who I’m talking about,” Petra said with a devilish smile. “That’s the point of nicknames, right?”
I smiled weakly. “I guess,” I told her.
“If you’re going to class, you should get going,” Petra said. She glanced at the clock on the stove. “Don’t want to be late, do you?”
The thought of rushing into Professor Marks’s class sent a jolt of anxiety through me and I took a quick bite of my muffin before wrapping the rest in plastic wrap and sticking it in my bag.
“You’re not coming?” I asked.
The Temptation: A Professor Student Romance (Forbidden First Times Book 6) Page 8
