Page 56 of Reckless Kiss

Chapter 18

The entire concept of promising each other six months was genius. Gold. Brilliance. Really, it was my finest decision after falling for Esme in the first place. It took pressure off us and we both just fell into a relationship that was easy and necessary. She essentially moved in with me as if it were the most natural thing in the world because, I quickly learned, Esme wasn’t like most women. At least the women I knew. She didn’t want to redecorate my house. All she really wanted was space for her pots and pans. The woman loved to cook.

After visiting her house I understood her a lot better. Esme was an academic through and through. Her house was neither messy nor bare. It was stuffed with bookshelves covered in books. Her coffee table littered with science journals (that were tagged and highlighted.) She essentially lived in an extension of her office at the university—except for the kitchen.

That room could have been lifted from the centerfold of a fancy home decorating magazine. Every appliance was top of the line and the layout was designed for ease of use. Don’t get me wrong; it was as beautiful as it was functional. If there was a room she spent time thinking about, it was this one.

So she packed a few bags and moved into my closet, brought her pots and pans, and planted (yes planted) an herb garden out back. We were officially an old married couple and all it took was a week.

And yet she still held so much of herself back. In many ways she remained a mystery to me...which was how I found myself standing outside the door to a lecture hall at four in the afternoon. Esme taught three courses and I’d learned that this one in particular was one of the most popular on campus. Students fought over seats in the class and there was always a waiting list a hundred students long.

At least that’s what Jeffry told me when I asked. At first I thought maybe it was because the teacher was pretty. I certainly took more than one class in college because I thought the professor was hot. But Jeffry laughed at me and told me to go listen.

He was right.

I was transfixed.

I almost wished I could enroll in her class and spend this hour with her three times a week. Yes, I was jealous of all three hundred people inside because they got to see this and be part of this experience.

She wore jeans to class. Jeans and science t-shirts with a black blazer or sweater, depending on the day. The first time I saw her leave for class she had to pick my jaw up off the floor. Then she explained that she reserved her dresses for when she was Esme. When she was Professor Brown she liked to be comfortable.

That’s exactly how she looked now, sitting on top of the desk at the bottom of the lecture hall, legs crossed beneath her as she grinned. There was a very lively debate taking place between two of her students about whether disease, war, or famine ultimately killed thousands.

“All right,” she laughed, holding up a hand to end the debate. “Let’s stop before there’s an actual war in the classroom.” There was lots of laughter as she hopped off the desk and began pacing. “The entire point of the exercise is to explore all the options without information bias. Of course we’re all still informed by our own experiences, shaped by our cultural norms. All of this will be evident next week when—”

The classroom erupted into cheers. I heard a few exclamations offinallyandyesandoh my god!

“You didn’t let me finish,” she teased, waiting for everyone to settle down. She paused dramatically. “All of this will be evident next week when ...you are given your keys.”

There was a lot more cheering and applause. Students clapped each other on the back and high fived.

Whatever these keys were, they were excited.

“But before you get your key you’ll need to turn in the final draft of your projects. Once the TAs have verified your completed project they will allow you to enter the lecture hall. No one will be allowed inside until this is verified. Your keys will be sealed. Do not open them. Everyone will open them together on Monday.”

There was lots of murmuring and the energy of the room seemed to jump even higher. It was addictive to watch.

“See you all on Monday!” She dismissed the class.

I moved out of the way of the door and waited for the main rush of students to dissipate before I slipped inside. There was a small line on either side of her. A couple of the boys (men? Young men?) who definitely had a crush on Esme. They never took their eyes off her. I understood their infatuation and I didn’t completely hate them for it. Esme was beautiful and smart and engaging up there under the lecture hall lights.

By the time she’d answered most of their questions I’d worked my way down to the front row and taken a seat directly in front of her. I waited for her to look up but she didn’t. Her students were her world right now and so I enjoyed the opportunity to learn this side of her.

In jeans and with her dark hair down in waves she looked impossibly young. Like she should be one of the students, not the professor. The other detail that really stood out? She never stopped smiling. Not completely. The corner of her lips and eyes remained tilted slightly upward.

Thiswas Esme’s world, not football or dinner parties or the Brown mansion. She may have been born there, but it wasn’t where she thrived.

Then the last student left and we were alone.

“How long have you been sitting there?” she asked as she gathered her stuff together.

“Long enough to know you’re a great professor.”

“Compliments will get you everywhere. You get an A, Leo.”

“What I really want is a key. Everyone was very excited about those.”

She slung a bag over her shoulder. “I’ll give you a key. To my panties.”

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