It's twenty minutes later that I get a response from the text. Finnigan doesn't say much, only one word.Thanks. Nothing else. I assume that Veronica is around or he's busy so I don't respond. Instead, I head to the bathroom and turn the water on for a shower.
As I strip out of my clothes, my thoughts wrongfully turn to today. I know I shouldn't, but that deep drawl and those green eyes pop up when I close my eyes. I've been single for way too long, haven't had sex in months. I'm chalking this up to frustration. The warm spray of the shower relaxes my muscles. I know I'm sporting a boner, but I ignore it. I'm not going to get offto my student. I can find a video to watch when I get out. Maybe I'll hit up the apps on Friday.
Chapter Four
It'sfour-thirtywhenmyalarm blares around the room. I reach out blindly until my fingers find the long snooze button on top of the alarm clock. I have my phone face down beside it. I don't like to use it at night before bed, but I do keep it on just in case there are any emergencies with the family or farm. I open my eyes and let out a long sigh. I have class again today. I have to get the animals in the barn and pens taken care of before I take a shower and get ready to leave. The class being at eight in the morning isn't really an issue, but it does rush my routine a bit. I would usually take Zula, my horse, out for a ride around the farm but I won't have time and it gets too hot in the day for a ride when I get back. I'll probably take her out this evening once it cools off. We can pack a dinner and head to my favorite spot.
I.
I can pack a dinner. It isn't like there's been a 'we' for a while. At this point, I'm not sure there will ever be a 'we' to mention.
My thoughts travel to the class as I go about my routine. At first it's simple, just going back over what I've read the lasttwo nights before bed and what we'll be learning about today. Plus the quiz we have already. Those thoughts turn gradually to Professor Murray. The button shirt he was wearing, jacket blazer that fit his arms like it was tailored just for him. The way he commanded the room and explained things. It was rushed, yes, but he did stop and go over things when someone asked a question. I like his style.
By the time it hits a quarter to seven, I'm walking back out to my car with my bookbag over one shoulder and a thermos of hot coffee in the other. It should be perfect temp by the time I get to the campus in forty-five minutes. Once I park and get to the classroom, I should be right at thirty minutes early. I like to give myself a few minutes to get my stuff laid out and focus. The rest of my family is the complete opposite. Most of them are notoriously late for things.
The campus is just as deserted as last time and I have no problem finding a place to park. I double check that my shirt is still tucked into my jeans and adjust my belt slightly before I grab my bag and head across the short courtyard to the building that holds our class for the next two months. I'm aware that I'm wearing much more formal clothing than the average student. I'm most comfortable in my jeans and flannel. It's what I work in, what I'm in for at least fourteen hours a day. I'm also more than aware that I'm at least fifteen years the senior of the next oldest person in the class. I saw the looks during the first class.
My phone dings with an incoming text as I'm walking down the hallway to the classroom. I pull it off the clip, sliding up on the lock screen. Clark, my nephew, convinced me to upgrade my phone last year and I will not admit to him that I love it more than the flip phone I swore by for years. My background is me sitting on Zula during a sunset. My sister-in-law took the photo when I wasn't paying attention and sent it to me.
The text is from my brother, letting me know that they have to go into the city for a bit today but that we'll have dinner together this evening. I send a quick thumbs up emoji and open the door to the classroom while I pocket my phone.
"Nelson?" Bennett's surprised voice stops me in the doorway, hand still on the handle. "What are you doing here so early?"
He's sitting at his desk. I take in the scene quickly. His coffee half empty, the paper towels on the desk and floor. His voice sounding like he just got caught doing something. I look back up at him and give a small smile. "I got here the same time last time so I figured it would be okay. I like to be early."
Bennett nods once and raises a hand, like he's silently giving me the okay to sit down. I eye him for a second longer, taking in the way his legs are tucked firmly under the desk, away from me being able to see. He's wearing a dark shirt today, but khaki pants. It finally clicks and I can't stop the smile that takes over. "Did you spill coffee on yourself?"
"No." The quick answer tells me that that is exactly what happened. His shoulders slump. "Okay, yes, I did and I don't have any extra pants and I have to teach with a huge wet spot right on my lap. This morning really couldn't get worse."
"I don't know about that." I move to sit my stuff on my desk and turn back to Bennett. As much as I want to call him Professor Murray or sir, he did request we call him by his first name last time. I reach my hands up and start to undo the button of my shirt. I have a white tee underneath that I'll be fine to wear.
"What are you doing?" Bennett asks. His eyes are wide and directed right at my hands. I slow my motions, but don't stop.
"I'm giving you my shirt to wrap around your waist. It won't exactly match the moody vide with that dark green shirt, but it beats having several younger men and woman staring at yourdi-" I stop my word before I can say it all and backtrack. "Your pants all class."
"I don't think a shirt is going to cover the size of this. Plus, it's getting kind of uncomfortable as it cools down." I see him wiggling side-to-side and his nose scrunches up.
"Stand up," I say. I finish with the last button and shift my arms to pull the shirt off. I can feel my cheeks heat and I avert my eyes when I see Bennett look me up and down. He's composed himself by the time I look back to him. I walk closer as he stands up. I do a quick look to see that the coffee mishap did, indeed, soak the majority of the front of his pants. Full on pee accident style. "Hmm, maybe you should just wear the shirt? It looks like it'll be long enough for you to cover it up if you don't tuck it in."
"I can't wear a shirt and not tuck it in," Bennett says, but he does take the shirt from me. He wraps it around his waist first, adjusting it three times before sighing. "Fuck. I'm just going to cancel class. How about that?"
"Or you can just point it out instead of letting everyone notice on their own. 'Hey, spilt coffee on myself, I look a bit goofy in this shirt, but let's just move on'?"
"I can't say that," Bennett says. His eyes find mine. He lays my shirt down and starts unbuttoning his own. "I like the shirt. It's not goofy."
"Thanks?" I move back to my seat and pull out my notebook and textbook while he does the shirt up. I have to bite back a laugh when he grabs my attention again. It swallows him. I was aware of the size difference, but I do tend to get my shirts in a larger size so I can properly tuck it in. The sleeves are at least four inches too long and the hem of the shirt falls to mid-thigh on him. A flash of him wearing that shirt without the pants at all crosses my mind. I blink that picture away quickly and clear my throat. "It doesn't look that bad."
"Implying it does look some amount of bad. God, this is my first day-time teaching job and it is not going well." He lets out an exasperated sigh and I can sense there is more to his morning than just the coffee. He pushes up the sleeves and starts picking up the paper towels as well.
"Have you been teaching night classes?" I ask. Maybe talking will distract him. He shared a bit about himself last time, but nothing more than surface level.
"Couple of years now," he says. He glances over at me every few seconds as he talks. "I was working at the high school for a while. I did my teaching study class there and they hired me on once I graduated. Then I did night classes once a week here. When they had a last minute opening for this class, I jumped at it. Not just for the money, but because I really hate doing night classes." He drops the last of the soaked towels into the trash and huffs out a final sigh. He's standing directly in front of my desk now. I lean back in the seat and look up at him. "I love staying in at night. I had my fun with the night scenes, clubbing, all that. Nowadays, I curl up with a book or a movie and enjoy my nights in."
"Really? That surprises me. I figured you would be more… extroverted."
"In the whole couple of hours you've known me, I've come across as an extrovert?" His eyebrow raises and he folds his arms while leaning his shoulders against the wall next to my desk. Shit. I glance down at my notebook, opening it to a blank page, before looking back up at him. He shrugs, not the least bit aware of the move he just did.
"You take control of the class and you're confident. I just assumed." He pushes himself off the wall and shakes his head.
