Page 5 of The Professor
“What am I, a professor who works here, doing in the library on campus?” Oliver repeats, amused.
I blush, internally cursing myself for being so awkward. I open my mouth to say something, anything, to try and salvage this, but Oliver beats me to it.
“Want to sit?” he asks, gesturing to the seat across from him.
I sit immediately, nearly toppling the chair over in my eagerness. Oliver chuckles, but there’s a fondness in his eyes as he does. I blush still, both at my clumsiness and under his attention.
I take my laptop out and open it, forgetting what I had been searching for last time I used it.
“Researching for your first project all ready?” Oliver asks, leaning over to glance at my screen. I can’t move fast enough to close my search before he sees, and in the split second where Oliver’s eyes widen I genuinely consider finding a book on witchcraft and summoning a black hole I can jump into.
I slam my laptop closed, heart in my throat, and glance at Oliver.
“Research, huh?” he murmurs, still leaning close to me despite there being nothing to look at. Scratch that. ApparentlyIam the something to look at because Oliver’s stormy eyes are locked on me, and I can’t help but squeeze my thighs together in response as all the fantasies that have been swirling through my mind come back full force.
Then I remember he’s just seen his own Instagram page and a window with my search forstudent professor dating policyopen on my laptop and I feel my face burn up for the millionth time this week.
“Yup,” I croak out, using the entirety of my concentration to remember how to form words. “Just research. For a project.”Shit, that doesn’t make sense. “Uh, a personal project.” Yeah,personal, all right.
“I see,” Oliver says, his voice teasing as a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Well, I have a class to teach, but I’ll see you later. Good luck with your project, Emma.”
I wave goodbye, knowing that the way he said my name will absolutely be featuring in my dreams tonight.
“Haveyou got Professor Hotty’s class today?” Isabel asks as I stroll in the coffee shop on campus.
“First thing,” I answer with a grin. “So just pray I don’t embarrass myself yet again, yeah?”
“I don’t know, going by what you told me, he doesn’t mind your attention,” Isabel says with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “And don’t think I can’t see the extra effort you put in today. Your boobs look great in that top.”
I can’t even deny the fact that I wore this on purpose for that exact reason. I know I shouldn’t be flirting with my professor, but the fact that it’s forbidden only makes it even more tempting.
“I just wish I knew if he even sees me that way,” I say, joining the back of the queue and trying to keep my voice down. I don’t think anybody’s listening in, though—everyone around me is involved in their own conversations or work. “I wish it was allowed, for us to be together, you know?”
“I know, babe, but just because its not technically allowed doesn’t mean it won’t happen,” she says.
I smile, secretly hoping she’s right. “I’ll talk to you soon, I’m nearly at the counter. I’ll update you on my seduce-the-professor plan after class.”
We hang up, and I pull up my social media, unable to resist having a look to see if Oliver’s posted anything new. Not a second later, someone taps me on the shoulder.
I spin, and the smile drops off my face when I see who it is.
“Dean Richards,” I gape, swallowing thickly.
“And who are you?” the Dean asks, a frown on his face as he looks at me. Shit. Why does he look so angry?
“Uh, I’m Emma. Emma McMann.”
“Well, Emma, let’s go have a meeting in my office, shall we?” he says, and it’s clear that it’s an order not a question.
“Oh…um…sure,” I stutter, trailing after him out of the coffee shop. “Is there something wrong?”
“Why don’t we discuss that between the two of us and Professor Page, or what was it you called him? ProfessorHotty?” he asks, raising a brow at me in clear disappointment.
Oh my God. TheDeanoverheard my conversation?! Shit!
“I swear, I can explain?—”
But he’s not listening. He leads me to his office, and I sit across from him, panicking that I’m about to be kicked out of college before I can even get the Master’s I’ve worked so hard to come here for.
