“Come in, please,” they reply, before the door unlocks and I take her inside. The ladies at the front office help her figure out where to go, and as one of them leads her away, I see Sadie turn and look at me, before they go around a corner and she’s out of sight.
“I just…she might need a little extra encouragement. Her situation before wasn’t ideal. It’s probably going to be an adjustment for her. She just came to live with me this summer. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
The woman smiles at me. “Okay. I can send a message to her teacher. We also have a counselor here for situations like this. They’re expecting her. I think you’re doing just fine.”
I straighten up, feeling strange about what I said to her, letting her see those vulnerable places in me that I try to keep hidden.
“My concern is Sadie, but thank you,” I tell her before walking out.
This is all a fucking mess, and I don’t know how I’m going to handle it.
*
Up next isAmerican National Government.
It feels like it’s been three days instead of one. Usually, I thrive at work. Teaching is where I’ve always felt like I belong, but today I keep thinking about Nash and Sadie, wondering how their days are going and how colossally I’m fucking this up.
I stand behind the podium of the small auditorium, going through some papers. Students walk in one by one, finding a seat and getting comfortable. It’ll be a full class. A lot of these are hard to get into. The proximity to DC has a lot of history and political science majors coming to Peyton.
“Good afternoon,” I say to a woman when I look up. Then do the same for another and another, and then…I freeze. The air is ripped from my lungs. My heart breaks down the walls of my chest in punch after punch.
He doesn’t notice me right away, but then Sir—shit,Colton—glances my direction and freezes as well. This cannot be happening. He’s twenty-eight. What the hell is he doing in my class? Also, I don’t have a Colton on my class list. I would have noticed even if I never in a million years would think it was him.
“Excuse me,” another guy says when he accidentally runs into Colton, which makes him realize he’s standing in themiddle of the walkway. He looks as surprised as I feel, his gaze flicking away and then back to me.
It’s me who looks away first, trying to find a way to keep myself calm. If I don’t slow my pulse, I’ll have a heart attack in the middle of this room, and then what will happen to Nash and Sadie?
Breathe, James. You can do this. It’s not a big deal. He wasn’t your student when he fucked you, and he’s never fucking you again.
But he did.
I called my student Sir.
I got on my knees for him.
I begged for his dick, let him spank me…and I crave more.
I close the door promptly when class starts and immediately start roll. When I get to theH’s and say, “Turner Hathaway?”
“Here,” Colton replies. “I go by Colton—my middle name.”
Well, I guess that explains that. “There’s a form in your Blackboard where you can share that kind of information with me,” I say before continuing with roll.
We go over class expectations, grading, and the syllabus together, and then I jump into the first lecture. I can’t get off schedule or get distracted with him being here. I have a job to do. Colton is in my past, nothing more.
I dismiss class on time, then begin packing up my laptop and paperwork. Students file out of the room, and I don’t look up the whole time, just wanting this day to be over and to pretend Colton doesn’t exist. To pretend the sexy, dominant man full of mischief and a joy for life I’ve never felt, isn’t now my student.
“Professor Valentine?” I hear a moment later and don’thave to look up to know it’s him. I hate the way my heart races, hate what the memory of his deep, rough voice does to me.
The door closes, and I look up to see we’re alone.
“I didn’t know,” he says. “I had no idea what you do for a living until I walked into this room.”
“That makes two of us.” Well, I guess I still don’t know what he does for a living. Why does this man twist me up so much? “You know what I mean. Did you lie about your age?” I ask, not wanting to do this here but needing to know.
“What? Absolutely not. I’m twenty-eight. I started at community college two years ago and transferred here.”
“Political science?” What are the odds?
