Page 3 of Valentine's Kisses
I glance down at my watch.Two minutes until showtime.I’m surprised at how nervous I feel. I’ve faced off with several two-hundred pounds plus guys in my time who wanted to beatmy head in, but somehow this is just as nerve-wracking.This is my first time teaching a class on my own. I wonder what the sports networks would say if they could see me now. Former Stanley cup winner, Flynn Michaels, teaching a life-drawing class at a college. They would laugh their asses off. But inside of me, there’s a feeling of contentment at the thought. Art saved my life. After a career-ending injury, art was the only thing that kept me going.
I look over the list of names of my students again. My gaze snags on one name. Gabrielle Newsome. She’s a freshman, but her portfolio blew me away. Most of my students will be more advanced, but I wanted her in mine. I wanted to foster her talent and to see her grow as an artist. So, I used my considerable pull to make sure she was placed in this class.
Students slowly file in and take seats behind easels that I’ve set up around the room. I tried to give each student enough space to work freely, but close enough that they could still converse with their neighbor. I want my classes to be open and free. I want my students to feel comfortable with me. After all, we will be drawing a nude model by the end of the semester.
I look over my syllabus again while students enter, some quietly, some laughing and giggling, pointing at the posters on the wall of famous nude paintings. I barely control the rolling of my eyes. If they want to pass this class, they’ll have to face the subject with some maturity.
“Everyone take a seat, please. We’ll get started in just a second.”
My eyes scan the room, snagging for a moment on a pair of long legs in jeans, seated on one of the stools. I can’t see the top half of the student because of the easel, but something about those legs is…familiar.
I clear my throat. “My name is Professor Flynn Michaels. I know y’all aren’t in grade school, so I hate to call roll, but we’reall going to be pretty close with each other after this semester, so I’ll need to learn your names.”
Some of the students appear nervous. I see a lot of shifting of bodies and some amused glances to and from one another.
I start calling names. Some hold their arms straight up and answer loudly and boldly. Others try to hide behind their easel, and I barely catch the timid raise of their hands.
My eyes narrow when I reach the name Gabrielle Newsome. I’m anxious to see the woman behind the talent.
When a husky, feminine voice replies, “H…here,” I nearly lose it. I swallow.
Emerald eyes meet my shocked gaze.My dream girl. My dream girl is in my class and she’s Gabrielle?
Gabrielle’s wide-eyed look of surprise shakes me back into reality. She licks her lips and I follow the movement. My pants feel tight. My cock threatens to spring into action.Fuck my life.The love of my life is my student.I’m well and truly fucked.
Chapter Three
A Hottie for a Teacher?
Ah, awkward nervousness…there you are, my old friend. -Gabrielle
Gabrielle
I suck in a quick breath as my gaze meets Professor Michaels’s blue-eyed stare. He begins discussing the syllabus but continues to look my way.God, he’s so handsome. And the way he’s looking at me…
“God, he’s so fuckin’ hot,” the girl next to me whispers. I swiftly turn my head away from his bold stare and look over at the girls whispering back and forth next to me. They’re both wearing short skirts and revealing tops. I look down at my jeans.Why do I feel underdressed here?
“Yes, I’ve been dying to get into this class ever since I heard the infamous Flynn Michaels was going to be teaching it. Fuck, he’s a hottie. What a weird thing, for a former NHL star to end up teaching this class?” The other girl’s harsh whisper is loud, and someone clears their throat. I swing around to realize Professor Michaels is looking directly at our corner of the room and giving the girl a hard stare.
“Sorry to interrupt any personal conversations you may be having,” he says drily, “but this syllabus is kind of important.You have some important projects coming up that you’ll be graded on, and I don’t plan on going easy on any of you.” He sends the girls a significant look and then his stare returns to me. When he looks at me, his gaze softens and my heart beats faster.
I duck my head and blush. My hands shake as I flip through the syllabus. I feel my face take flame when I see the final assignment, which involves drawing the nude model. I knew that of course, but it still takes my breath away to see the assignment in black and white.How will I handle it?I’m shy with my own body, the scars that crisscross my legs and stomach, making me feel like monster at times. I can cover them up in public, but the thought of anyone else seeing them…I look down at the floor. There’s no way I could let anyone else see…ever.
By the time I gather my thoughts, Professor Michaels is ending the class. I let a deep breath out and gather up my supplies. I try to keep my head down while others talk around me.
“Are you feeling better, Ms. Newsome?” Professor Michaels’ deep voice startles me, and my box of pencils fall to the floor, scattering everywhere.
I grimace and glance up to find the handsome professor standing in front of me. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he says gently.
I give him a half smile. “It’s not you. I startle easily. S…sorry about the mess.”
I lean down and begin picking up my favorite pencils. Their sharpened points make me ache to take one to a pad and draw my teacher’s beautiful face. I hear him behind me, also gathering up my pencils.
I stand and hold out my hand while he hands them over. “Y…you didn’t have to do that.”
I can feel myself blushing while I look at the box in my hands.
His hand cups my chin and lifts my face up so that I’m staring into those blue eyes again. “It’s no problem, really, especially for you. I loved your portfolio, Ms. Newsome. You show a lot of talent.” His thumb strokes along my cheek until he seems to realize that we may have an attentive audience and quickly pulls his hand away.
