Page 32 of Unapologetic Obsession
I couldn’t get past Professor Maxwell’s comments about my clothes. I had ransacked my closet to disprove him, but that failed miserably. Every article I owned was too conservative and neutral for someone my age. This dress came the closest to contradicting him. Though it had a high collar, the see-through sleeves made it feminine and somewhat sexy. In case the look wasn’t outlandish enough for me, I paired it with red lipstick and an emerald necklace that stood out.
“I haven’t been to one of these events in forever,” he added. “My parents practically blackmailed me into it.”
I smiled tentatively, and he returned the gesture with a million-dollar megawatt one. I was grateful when Sophie took over the conversation. “Ugh. Be grateful. Mine forces me to organize it every year. As if we want to drink with our parents.”
“Right?” Matt slanted his face toward me. “Are your parents here, too?” he asked, stepping forward.
I shook my head, hastily retreating. He noticed, though he didn’t comment on it.
“That means you can get drunk without hearing a lecture. Let’s hit the bar.” Matt led me to the bar with a hand on my waist.
I hurried ahead, letting his arm fall away. He was more forward than he had been in class, standing closer than necessary in an intimate way.
When we reached our destination, Sophie craned her neck over the massive crowd. She tried to get the bartender’s attention, who was being hounded by at least twenty others. “Are you kidding me? You’re telling me I can’t even get a drink at a partyIorganized?”
It was a fundraiser, not a party, I mentally corrected.
She huffed. “This thing blows.”
Matt laughed. “You’re the one who organized it.”
“Don’t remind me.”
When it was finally our turn, the bartender handed us three champagne flutes. The drinks lasted less than five minutes, and soon Sophie was trying to get his attention again. After our fourth drink, Matt stepped up to the plate.
“I’m bribing the bartender and getting us a bottle. Meet you ladies outside?” he suggested.
Sophie and I gave him appreciative glances. “I could use a smoke,” she announced, and linked arms with me. We strolled toward the terrace, and once we stepped outside, she cut right to the chase. “What’s going on with you and Matt?”
I frowned, almost stumbling on my high heels. “Absolutely nothing.”
She pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her purse, borrowing a light from a passerby. “He has been staring at you all night.”
“He’s just not used to seeing me this way,” I explained, glancing down at my formfitting dress.
Her eyes moved over the chiffon fabric. “Iam not used to seeing you dressed this way. What’s going on with you?”
“What do you mean?”
Sophie twirled the cigarette between her fingers, using it to draw an imaginary line over my outfit. “You’re showing skin.” She pointed at my nails, which I had painted red on a whim to match my lips. “You’re wearing colors.” She reached out and touched the large emerald necklace around my neck. “And you’re wearing a statement piece. This is so unlike you.”
She had long teased me for being allergic to color and avoiding bold jewelry. Simple had always been my style, but I couldn’t resist when I found an unopened bottle of red nail polish and the never-before-worn emerald-encased necklace on my jewelry stand.
My head was foggy after the last glass of champagne, mixed with the haze from the cigarette smoke. The alcohol clouded my mind, and I spoke without thinking. “You can blame this on Professor Maxwell.”
Her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. “Caden? What’s he got to do with anything?”
Sophie was a couple years older than me and a couple years younger than the Maxwell twins. While we met in elementary school, she had known the twins her whole life. I had never shared my feelings for Damon with her or about enrolling in Professor Maxwell’s class, fearing my family would be angry if the word got out.
“I signed up for Professor Maxwell’s class,” I admitted in a small voice.
“Oh.” Her voice went up an octave. She watched me closely before asking, “And I’m guessing your family doesn’t know?”
I shook my head. It was best to come clean. Sooner or later, she would find out through the twins. Luckily, she was among the few neutral parties in this drawn-out rivalry. She would understand this was purely about academics, nothing more.
“What must it be like to have Caden as a professor?” she mused.
The cigarette between her fingers swayed with each puff, the tip pulsating with the beat of her breath. It reminded me of Damon. He smoked, too, and I whirled my head in search of him. He generally attended these things and must be here, somewhere. Damon graduated from NewTech and recently returned for his MBA. Ironically, he was a student again while his brother had become a professor.
