She nods her agreement. “That’s true. He could’ve been nicer to us.”
That’s putting it mildly. Amala really is too sweet.
In our two lectures with him since then, Professor Hirst has made sure to ask me pointed questions. More than any other student, like he’s trying to catch me out or something.
I guess I struck a nerve when I challenged him that first day.
Too bad for him, I come to class prepared. I haven’t failed to correctly answer a single one of his questions.
“I need to go to the shop for food,” Amala says as we near the center of town. “Do you want to come with me?”
“That’s okay, but thanks.” I’ve already allocated my meager budget for the week. “I’ll be back at the library tomorrow if you want to join me?”
She smiles. “That sounds great. It’s good to have a study buddy on the course.” A shadow of her earlier worry flits over her face. “Will you let me know if you hear from Rich?”
“Sure,” I agree. “But I doubt he’ll contact me. I don’t think he likes the library as much as we do.”
She laughs softly. “He does seem to like a pint more than books. Maybe he has been skiving off this week.”
“It’s really good of you to check up on him,” I say sincerely. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
The handsy boy doesn’t deserve this sweet girl’s concern, but I decide not to elaborate.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She heads off in the direction of the shop.
I resume my walk towards my apartment building on the other side of town. I’m so intent on appreciating the stunning, ancient architecture that I trip over a loose paving stone.
Strong hands gently grasp my shoulders, righting me before I can fall.
I whirl, jerking away from the masculine contact.
Professor Hirst is standing in front of me, lips pinched in disapproval. “Are you okay?”
My hackles go up. “I fine.”
His eyes flick over me, as though assessing if I’m steady on my feet. “You should watch where you’re going.”
I gape at him. Is he for real?
“I just tripped. I didn’t need your help.”
It’s completely inappropriate that my professor just touched me so casually. And he seems weirdly annoyed at me when he’s the one who chose to make contact.
His brows lift. “Would you prefer to be on your arse right now?”
I stiffen and say coolly, “No need to worry about me. I’m sure you’re busy.”
We’re near King’s Manor, so he must be on his way there.
“I’ve finished work for the afternoon,” he replies smoothly. “Just in time to stop you from tumbling into a puddle, it seems.”
He sighs and offers me a rueful smile. For a moment, I’m too breathless for a retort.
Professor Hirst is gorgeous, and it’s hard to remember that he’s an asshole when he appears so insanely charming. He even has a disarming little dimple in his left cheek.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” he says. “I’m really not that much of an arsehole.”
My cheeks heat.
