Page 3 of Bachelor

“Great, see? This professor needs someone like you taking charge so he can focus on other things. Plus, your undergrad aligns with the classes he’s teaching this year.”

My undergrad? Sociology?

That could only mean one thing.

The red and gold floral wallpaper started to close in on me as I glanced down at Cassandra, who was still tugging me alone beside her.

“I’m a fine arts major now. I switched my major—”

“Professor Ellis!” she shouted loud enough that several small groups turned to look at us.

My stomach knotted, my throat tightening painfully. No, no, no, no—

Rhys, who had been standing in a group with several other professors and students, turned his head at the sound of his name. The casual smile touching his lips fell the second he laid eyes on me.

I felt like someone was twisting a knife through my heart.

“What luck she decided to come tonight!” Cassandra beamed, totally oblivious to my body going absolutely rigid beside her. “This is the TA you inquired about in your rather terse email this morning.” She gave him a mocking arch of her brow. “See, I told you I’d deliver, didn’t I? Meet Whitney Dahl—”

“We’ve met,” he said, and I felt the ice in his voice as he looked from Cassandra to me. “There must be some mistake.”

Chapter Two

Rhys

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“YOU DON’T KNOW ME WELLyet,” Cassandra Martins argued, batting her eyelashes at me, “but you’ll find I don’t make mistakes, Professor—or is it Dr. Ellis?”

I forced myself not to look at Whitney as I replied, “Both, technically.”

“Well, Dr. Ellis”—Cassandra grinned, her eyes lighting on mine—“I assure you this is the exactly the kind of TA you need for your undergrade classes. Whitney is perfectly capable of handling your Sociology 101 class even though it’s one of the largest classes we have—”

“That’s not—” I hesitated, finally looking to Whitney, who kept her eyes locked on the wall behind me. Slowly, her eyes met mine with a desperate plea to shut up and not say anything that would make the new student advisor think there was any reason at all we shouldn’t be working together. “I assumed Ms. Dahl would be placed with one of her art professors given that she changed her major last semester to fine arts.”

Cassandra waved a hand in dismissal. “Anyone can TA those classes. It takes a certain kind of student to teach your classes, and from what I’ve heard, you and Ms. Dahl have a lot in common.”

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