Chapter Two
Walker
What the hell am I doing?
Rosie said she wasn’t interested. It was straightforward, poignant, and without hesitation. She knows what she wants, what she can handle, and she wasn’t afraid to tell me.
I admire this about her. She isn’t a follower. She does what she knows is right, which makes it beyond disrespectful that I followed her into the hall. Even more so that I’ve been staring at her tits, fantasizing about her on my lap, wondering what kinds of sounds she makes when she’s being pleasured, all while I’m supposed to be teaching a class.
God, I need help. In twenty years of teaching, I’ve never once crossed a line with one of my students. There are plenty of young girls running around here with their tits hanging out and their asses on display. I’ve never once given them a second glance.
Why would I?There are twenty plus years between me and these students. I have no right to want them, no right to look, no right to lust or fantasize.
I hand Rosie the piece of paper with my address scratched on the back. “Before you make your decision on the research assistant position, I’d like to show you something.”
She blinks up at me, pretty round cheeks dotted with freckles, her long red curls swept across her shoulder. “Is this the address to your house?”
“I’m delivering it in person because I don’t want it public.” That’s a lie. I didn’t email it to her because I didn’t want a paper trail of my inappropriate behavior.
She grins and glances up at me. “Or you’re afraid you’ll get in trouble for giving students your home address.”
I wouldn’t expect any less from her. The second Rosie stepped into my class, I knew she was different. All that was confirmed when she handed in her first paper. It was an essay on the illusions of self. Unlike others, she argued that the ever-changing self is the truest form of one’s illusion. Therefore, the only illusion is that one’s self is stable.
It’s a unique take, and I enjoy the directions her brain goes in.
I’m halfway through my thought when I notice Dean Andrews out of the corner of my eye. The man is a massive asshole with a severe superiority complex. Given the chance, he loves to corner folks and offer up long-winded discussions about himself and his successes. Most of the staff avoid him at all costs, but we’re the only two faculty members in the hallway, and I’ve already made eye contact.
I nod toward him, hoping he’s got better places to be this afternoon. The last thing I want is an interruption, though maybe it’s what I need. I can’t imagine the hell Dean Andrews would rain down on me if he knew I was inviting a student to my home.
I should listen to these warning bells going off in the back of my head. They’re honest and I know they’re there to help. Instead, I wait for the dean to pass, then turn my attention back toward Rosie and her perfectly round tits. “No need to knock. I’ll be on the back patio at seven-thirty with dinner.”
She bites back a smile. “You must really be stuck with this book.”
That, and I’m desperate to spend time alone with you.
God, I sound like one of my dumbass brothers! I just got done giving Archer a lecture about dating younger women, now here I am abusing my power to get one alone.
“Yes.” I drag my hand over my beard as I train my gaze to lock with hers instead of her cleavage. “Like I told you before, you have a unique view I’m curious to know more about.”
“My views aren’t that unique. I mean, there are so many intelligent people here. Professor Dean just walked by. He has like four degrees, he’s traveled the world twice, and everyone respects him. You should see what his thoughts on the topic are.”
Swallowing hard, I stare at the sweet, little redhead I can’t get out of my head. “Intelligence can build a world, but insight understands it. You have copious amounts of insight, Rosie. Every paper you turn in proves it more and more. I believe you’ll be of great help with this book.” I draw in a heavy breath and let it out slowly. “However, don’t feel obligated. I only thought I’d offer you an option to take a closer look at my research.”
She glances at the note, then back up at me. “And you’re sure you’re not one of those psycho student killers? I read about this professor online who picked students out of his class to torture.”
“Smart of you to check.” I grin and shake my head. “No killing here, though the blonde in the front row is getting on my nerves. She’d obviously be the first one to go.”
“Really?” Rosie sneaks a glance in my direction. “She’s gorgeous. I thought everyone loved it when gorgeous people talked to them.”
“Beauty is perception.” I drag my gaze down over Rosie’s curved frame, inadvertently pausing where her thighs meet.
Jesus, I’m a mess.
“Well,” Rosie massages the back of her neck, “I’m pretty sure everyone perceives the blonde as gorgeous. She’s skinny, her boobs are huge, and I don’t think she’s had a bad hair day all semester.”
“And yet, she’s not the one I’m noticing.”
Rosie’s full pink lips drop open as she stares toward me, blushing.
