Page 21 of The Naughty Professor
Felix Sterling.Maybe he’d say no.But maybe—just maybe—he’d say yes.
* * *
The chemistry wing always smelled faintly of antiseptic and burnt sugar, like someone had been sterilizing candy.Felix Sterling’s lab was at the far end, a double-doored chamber with tall windows that threw gray afternoon light across the tiled floor.My hand hesitated on the handle, a flutter of nerves I hadn’t felt since I was nineteen and about to ask a boy from my dorm out for the first time.
“Good God, I’m being so ridiculous,” I muttered.
I was a grown man, for God’s sake.I could stand in front of a hundred students and hold forth about ethics and Aristotle without blinking—but a cute chemistry professor had me sweating through my shirt.
I pushed the door gently and peeked inside.The lab was empty.Rows of counters gleamed under the fluorescent lights, beakers aligned like soldiers, glass-tubed contraptions waiting silently.
I exhaled, half relieved, half disappointed.Maybe this was a sign I should let it go.Ask him out another day.Or not at all.I turned to leave, and the door on the other side of the room swung open.
Sterling stumbled in, arms overloaded with equipment—two flasks sloshing with amber fluid, a cardboard box of vials clutched under one elbow, and what looked like a bag of white powder balanced precariously against his chest.His glasses were fogged, and his hair looked as if he had been electrocuted.
He saw me and froze mid-stride.
For a moment we both just stared at each other, two deer caught in the same set of headlights.
“Sterling,” I managed, forcing my voice into something casual.“Good afternoon.”
“Professor Carr!”His pitch came out too high, and he winced.He shuffled forward, the box tilting dangerously.“Uh—what are you—what are you doing here?”He dumped the whole precarious load onto the big front lab table.A glass vial rolled away, clinked onto the tile, and burst into fragments.
“Damn it,” he muttered, crouching quickly to sweep the shards into his hand with zero regard for safety.
I took a step forward.“Careful, you’ll cut yourself.”
“No, no, it’s fine, I bleed all the time.”He froze, realizing what he’d just said, and his face flamed.“I mean—not like that—I mean in the lab, I mean—”
He shut his mouth and turned beet red.
Something inside me softened.For all my hesitation, here was Felix Sterling, visibly unraveling in front of me.Shy, awkward, saying exactly the wrong thing.
I smiled before I could stop myself.“Hazards of chemistry, I suppose.”
He bent down further, fumbling at the glass, and in the same breath his elbow smacked a tall beaker still half-filled with cloudy liquid.It toppled, splashed across the table, and shattered on the floor beside him.
“Shit!”he barked, flinching back.
I moved instinctively, stepping into the lab, ready to help him up, ready to—
The sharp clip of heels rang out behind me.
I turned, heart sinking.
Joan glided through the doorway, the pearls around her neck winking in the harsh light.Her eyes went instantly to Felix crouched on the floor, and her lips pursed.
“Oh, Dr.Sterling,” she said, voice edged with syrup.“Another little… accident?”
Felix shot up straight, nearly slipping on the puddle.“No—no, it’s under control.”His ears glowed scarlet.
Joan’s gaze slid to me.“Thorne.What a surprise.What brings you to Sterling’s,” her nose wrinkled, “laboratory?”
I felt my jaw tighten.I’d known Joan for years, relied on her after my divorce, even let her drag me out of my apartment when I couldn’t face the world.She’d been a friend.But now, standing there, her voice dripping with disdain, I realized with a jolt that I resented her.
Why did she always show up when I didn’t want her around?I resented the way she wrapped her voice around my name like it was hers to keep.And most of all — I resented that she was here now, right when I was about to ask Sterling out.
My mouth went dry.Whatever words I’d rehearsed—coffee, Grace Street, just a chat—vanished.
