Page 52 of The Naughty Professor
My stomach did a slow, uneasy flip.“There’s a video of what, exactly?”
A moment later, the unmistakable bass line of dance music filled the hallway.Lorna angled her phone toward me, grinning like the devil.
There he was.
Jax—no, Felix—glitter catching the lights, hips rolling, the crowd screaming.He looked breathtaking.Damn, his body was so toned, and the way he filled out that thong was…
I felt my face heat instantly.
Lorna elbowed me, nearly knocking the phone from her hand.“So?”she teased, eyes gleaming.“Did you get lucky last night?”
I felt the blush climb all the way to my ears.“Lorna.”
She gasped theatrically, stepping back to study me.“Oh my God, you did!”
“I am not discussing this with you in public,” I said, trying to sound stern, which only made her laugh harder.
Her eyes dropped to the rolled-up belt in my hand, and her grin turned wicked.“Well, well, well,” she said, pointing.“I bet that’s Jax’s belt, isn’t it?”
I tried to hold a straight face but failed.“Have a good afternoon, Professor Hernandez.”
“Oh, I’m having a fabulous afternoon, thank you,” Lorna sang as she twirled away down the corridor.
I took the stairs down to the basement level, the belt still looped through my hand.Felix’s lab door was half open, and just as I reached it, he stepped out, a stack of folders tucked under one arm and his messenger bag hanging off his shoulder.He almost walked straight into me.
For a split second, everything inside me lifted.I smiled before I could stop myself, already picturing him smiling back.
But he didn’t.
He froze, eyes wide behind his glasses, color rising in his cheeks.His entire posture shifted—shoulders tight, head ducking slightly like he’d been caught doing something wrong.
“Felix,” I breathed.“Hey.”
“Hi, Professor Carr,” he replied, voice quick and formal.
That stung a little.“We’re back to that, are we?”
He made a nervous sound that might have been a laugh.“Hello,” he said again, “Thorne.”
The silence stretched, awkward and heavy.I held up the belt between us, the leather dangling like proof of something I couldn’t name.“You, uh, left this at my place last night.”
“Oh—right.”He grabbed it too fast, nearly dropping his folders.“Thanks.”
I smiled, trying to bridge the gap.“So… maybe we could grab dinner sometime?Tonight or tomorrow?”
His eyes went round.“Dinner?”
“Dinner,” I said, keeping my tone gentle.“Actual food.Conversation.I promise not to make it weird.”
“I—uh—I can’t tonight.I’m going to my grandmother’s.”
“Of course,” I said.“Tomorrow, then?Or the next day?”
He shifted the papers again, eyes darting toward the elevator at the end of the hall.“Maybe,” he muttered.
“At least give me your number,” I said, smiling to soften it.
He fumbled for his phone, nearly dropped it, then thrust it at me like it was a hot potato.I took it, entered my number, and handed it back.“There.Now you can text me when you’re free.”
