Page 1 of Her Professor's Valentine

Chapter 1

Penny

I slidinto my desk and organized my pens neatly in front of me. Each one was color-coded so that I could take the most efficient notes possible.

After double-checking the pen situation, I pulled out my notebook and went over the notes I’d taken as I read through the casebook the previous night. Facts highlighted in green, legal reasoning in pink, and the court’s holdings in yellow—everything was in order. If Professor Elliot called on me, I’d be ready.

Other students began arriving, slinging their backpacks next to their seats and chatting. I sat at the head of the class so I could see the board easily. Not because I enjoyed watching Professor Elliot’s long fingers turn the pages in his casebook, or the way his dark hair almost fell into his eyes. Not at all.

“Early again, Penny?” Tucker slid into the seat next to me and eyed my array of pens.

I ignored him and stared straight ahead. He’d been my tormentor in chief since our first year of law school. Now that we were in our third and final semester, he seemed to have upped his attempts at harassing me.

“Don’t be like that.” He swiped my brown hair from my shoulder and ran his hand down my back.

If I could sit still and silent for long enough, he’d leave. He always sat at the back of the class, ignoring the lecture and goofing off with his rich friends. I’d worked hard to get into law school, and even harder to maintain my grades while working at my mom’s store. An asshole like Tucker wasn’t going to derail my dreams.

“I always like it when you wear skirts.” He slid his hand onto my knee.

I gripped his wrist and finally turned to glare at him. “Don’t touch me.”

He grinned, his light blue eyes glinting with a malicious sparkle. I knew his good looks dropped panties all over campus, but they’d never had an effect on mine. I loathed him.

“Your prude act is a turn-on. You know that?” He kept moving his hand up my leg even as I tried as hard as I could to push him away.

“Mr. Barnes.” Professor Elliot’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “Have you lost your way?”

Tucker’s head snapped up as Professor Elliot stalked into the classroom. My breath hitched as I took in his stormy countenance—sharp jaw, dark hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was the youngest professor in the law school, only thirty-two years old, and the hottest. Plenty of students swooned over his looks, but his stern demeanor killed any attempts at romanticizing him.

Tucker pulled his hand from my leg. “I was just—”

“I don’t want your excuses.” The professor slammed his books onto the podium at the front of the room. “I want you to take your seat.”

“Yeah.” Tucker scurried away.

I breathed a sigh of relief and shot Professor Elliot a grateful look. He avoided my gaze.

“Vargas!” His harsh bark raised the hairs at the back of my neck.

“Y-yes professor?” A student two rows behind me stood.

“What was the holding in the International Shoe case?”

“Shoe?” Vargas wasn’t prepared.

I cringed.

Professor Elliot narrowed his eyes and gripped the edge of the podium. “Sit down, Mr. Vargas.”

“I, uh, I had car trouble last night and—”

“Sit. Down.” The command in Professor Elliot’s tone was unmistakable.

Despite Vargas crashing and burning, the rest of the class went smoothly. I spent the time making copious notes and peeking at the professor whenever I had a spare moment. He never looked at me, not since the first day of class.

That first day, he’d called my name on the roll, I’d announced that I was present, and then he’d locked eyes with me. I remembered the flush in my cheeks, the heat that rocketed around my body just from the way he looked at me. But after that, he never glanced in my direction, and definitely didn’t call on me.

So, I was able to stare as much as I wanted without fear of getting busted. And I did. I’d memorized the way his chocolate brown hair parted on the right side, the way his smirk turned up the left side of his lip, the way his jaw always seemed covered in stubble, the width of his broad chest, and narrow waist, and the toned curve of his ass. I studied him almost as hard as my schoolwork. Fantasizing about him while I was alone in my room at night? A given.

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