“I like it, yeah. But baby, you got a man now. Ain’t no need to be too sexy for them freshmen and them campus roamers who still don’t know their major. You going there to teach, not to tempt.”
I raised an eyebrow, amused. “Tempt, huh?”
Bryce crossed his arms and gave me that signature, serious-but-playful look. “I’m just saying, wrap it up like a final exam. Leave the extra credit at home.”
I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh. “Let me find out you’re jealous of some 19-year-olds now?”
“I’m territorial,” he corrected. “That’s different. And let’s not act like it’s just 19-year-olds on campus. You got freshmen still smelling like Similac, mid-twenties niggas thinkin’ they’re philosophers, them washed-up thirty-somethings going back for a second degree, and them forty-year-old men who call you ‘professor’ like it’s foreplay. Even granddaddies be lurking in the hallway talkin’ ‘bout some ‘I love a woman with a mind.’ Nah, ain’t nobody exempt. I’m watchingallthem niggas.”
“Bryce…” I lowered my voice, leaning closer to the camera to emphasize my sincerity. “I only have eyes for you. You know that.”
He let my words hang in the air for a moment, a softening of his expression breaking through his bravado. “Yeah, I know. I still like hearing you say it, though.”
I couldn't help but smirk, feeling a rush of affection. “Get used to it then, Captain Frost.”
He scoffed. “You better not be calling me that on purpose just to turn me on before I gotta go deal with TSA.”
“You love it.”
“I do. But I also love knowing everybody at your job gon’ see you walk in fine and walk out untouched.”
“Possessive much?” I teased.
“Proud,” he stated firmly, his eyes shining with a mix of pride and affection. “Now go educate the youth. I’ll call you when I land.”
I blew him a heartfelt kiss. “Safe flight, love.”
“Stay warm, Professor Hollis."
***
The brisk breeze nipped at the edges of my coat as I ascended the worn stone steps to the humanity building, the familiar rhythm of campus life buzzing in the background—students chattering and laughing, the sharp click of heels striking the pavement, backpacks swinging with a comforting sway, and steaming coffee cups cradled in hands.
“Ms. Hollis!”
I turned and spotted Laila, the insightful sophomore who once told me,“You gon’ have a good Christmas, I feel it.”
“Laila!” I shrieked, my heart lifting at her familiar presence. “How was your break?”
“Mine was chill,” Laila replied, her bright smile contagious as she walked alongside me, her braids swaying with each step. “But what about yours? You were positively glowing before break started. Now you’re out here sparkling.”
I laughed softly, the warmth of memory washing over me. “Actually, it was one of thebestChristmases I’ve had in years.”
Laila gasped, clapping. “Itoldyou! I told you it was gonna be good!”
“You did,” I admitted, nodding appreciatively. “I should’ve placed a bet on you.”
“See? You gotta listen to the prophets on this campus!” she joked, brushing her braids behind her shoulder with a flourish. “Have you seen any of your other students yet?”
“Nope… just you.” I leaned in closer. “But I swear, if I see Jason before lunch, I might just fake a nosebleed and make a discreet exit. I’m hoping to survive the whole semester without enduring another unsolicited TED Talk about the psychology of cereal choices.”
Laila giggled, a light, airy sound that brightened the dull corridor. “He did make that lecture about Fruity Pebbles weirdly deep.”
We both shared a hearty laugh, a brief reprieve from the seriousness of academia.
We finally reached the hallway that led to my classroom.
“Alright, well, I’ll let you get to it,” Laila said. “Wishing you a semester full of sane students and working coffee machines.”
