Teacher's Pet - A Standalone Novel (A Teacher Student Romance)

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Teacher's Pet - A Standalone Novel (A Teacher Student Romance) Page 5

by Claire Adams


  “Then you need insurance.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You don’t know what insurance is?”

  “Of course I know what insurance is! I just don’t know what that means for this specific instance! It’s not like I can call up my parents’ insurance company and ask them to include sleeping with my teacher on the policy!”

  Lindsey after. “Ha ha, if only it worked that way! No, you’re right—you can’t do that, but you can do it another way. Write down everything that happens. Like an expose. Remember, we talked about those in class?”

  “Yeah, but even if I do that, who’s to say that I didn’t just make it up?”

  “Record yourself.”

  “There’s no way I’m going to be able to set up my phone without him knowing.”

  “Well . . . maybe not a video. But have the voice recorder on. I’m sure he’ll make some sort of vocal indication as to what you guys are doing. And who knows? Maybe another time you suggest that you guys make a video. I don’t think there’s any guy that would turn down getting to make a sex tape—it’s like every guy’s secret fantasy. Whether they’ll admit it or not. And then you’ll have all the evidence that you need.”

  “Evidence that would show I was totally going along with it, too!”

  “Of course, but he’s more in the wrong here. He’s the one who would get in trouble; not you. And this is only if he tries to back out on his end of the deal. This is just your insurance. You probably won’t even need to show anyone.”

  I took another gulp of my water, this time enjoying the tartness, because at least it was a mild distraction to this conversation. But as I set my glass back down, I realized that this was my parents’ fault. Anything that happened now was at least indirectly related to them, because of how much pressure they were putting on me. I knew they’d be beyond pissed if they ever found out that I had done something like sleep with a professor, but I’d do everything I could to make sure that never happened.

  8.

  Leo

  I showed up to class early, walking into an empty classroom for maybe the first time ever. Even on the first day of class, there had already been a dozen students seated by the time I’d arrived. But now here I was, the place empty, and it seemed peaceful and calm, and maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to show up early more often.

  No sooner did such a thought cross my mind than Kristin arrived.

  “Oh,” she said as she walked into the classroom. “You’re here early.”

  “Am I?” I tried to sound nonchalant, though the truth was, I was looking forward to this class more than I could ever remember looking forward to a class before. Usually, I was dashing into the classroom a few seconds before the official start, Kristin waiting like a patient dog for her harried owner, doing her dutiful duty of answering student questions and going over homework.

  She ducked her head as she pulled her messenger bag strap off and over her shoulders.

  “Yes,” she said with a smile. “But it’s nice to have a few minutes with you before they start pouring in.”

  She dragged one of the chairs over next to me, and when she sat down, our legs were touching. I waited a second and then pulled mine back.

  Last night, I’d spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about whether or not this was something that I should actually do. I knew this was something illicit, something that would be frowned upon, and yes, something that would potentially get me fired if word got out. Was this really something that I wanted to pursue? It was. Not because I couldn’t take a more traditional route to get laid (hell, all I had to do was text Colette and she’d be over at my place on her back in 10 seconds flat) but because this was giving my life the sort of excitement that had been sorely lacking since I’d been canned from the magazine.

  If Tessa showed up today wearing something that would let me know she was still interested, I’d consider it the green light, full steam ahead. If she didn’t, then I’d just pretend like the whole thing had never happened. Hell, I’d even give her the fucking grade she wanted anyway; what did I care?

  Kristin was talking to me, and I nodded every so often, gave a noncommittal grunt or hmmm every few seconds. I had no idea what she was saying. Kristin wanted to work in newspapers, or write a column, or have a blog article she wrote go viral, and I knew she viewed me as someone who had achieved what she hoped to.

  “. . . very exciting, don’t you agree?” Kristin looked at me.

  “Definitely,” I said, nodding vigorously. I knew if I waited a moment, she’d give some sort of clue as to whatever the hell it was she’d just been going on about.

  “Though if I were the one in charge, I would change the name. Benton Daily Journal. That’s so . . . I don’t know. Unexciting. But that’s beside the point, for right now, anyway. I think it’s great that the school will finally have a newspaper again. I told Shannon I’d be willing to help you out in any way possible.”

  “I’m sure she was thrilled to hear that.”

  “She was.”

  I was glad when students started filing in, not just because that meant Tessa would be arriving, but because Kristin and I could stop talking about the fucking school newspaper, which was already turning into a huge pain in my ass. I watched as the students came in. Tessa was usually one of the first, but I counted 12 students at their seats before I glanced over at the doorway and saw her there. I blinked, not certain for a moment that I could trust what my eyes were seeing.

  Tessa appeared to be wearing leopard print leggings with a short black skirt over them. Every student in the classroom turned to watch her walk in, and she did so, with her head down, hurrying to her seat as quickly as possible. I realized as I watched her come in, though, it wasn’t a leotard, but one of those cycling skin suits, and about an inch of the shorts part of it was visible below the hemline of her skirt.

  Kristin caught me looking but took it the wrong way. “What the hell is she wearing?” she muttered to me, barely concealing the roll of her eyes. “Is it dress like your favorite animal day and no one told me?”

  “Must be,” I said, finally forcing myself to tear my eyes away from Tessa. Well. I wanted a sign that she was still interested in doing this—clearly, she was.

  We spent the majority of class going over the reading they’d done, and I let Kristin lead the discussion, which we hadn’t discussed earlier, but I knew she liked to and this freed me up to pretend that I wasn’t looking over in Tessa’s direction. I noticed, though, that every other guy in the classroom was, too, some more than others. Tessa appeared to be trying to focus on whatever it was that Kristin was saying, but whenever she raised her hand to add something to the discussion, Kristin passed over her and called on someone else.

  The third time this happened, Tessa put her hand down and looked right at me. I raised my eyebrows and gave her a tiny smile, but I didn’t do anything to stop Kristin. Kristin was in the zone now, anyway, and interrupting her would be akin to a scuba diver surfacing too quickly. If I were to interrupt this discussion she had going about the ethical responsibility a journalist had to her sources, she’d probably have some sort of breakdown, right there in the middle of class. But I let my gaze linger on Tessa while she watched me, just to let her know that I both approved and appreciated her choice of clothing.

  At the end of class, Kristin assigned the next chapter in the textbook for homework, as well as a critical analysis of a feature article about the importance of the free lunch program in middle schools. I didn’t need to read the article to know that the importance of any school free lunch program is the fact that it is often the only meal that impoverished children can count on, and taking it away meant there were some that might go a whole day without an actual meal, whether it was because there was no money to afford food at home or the house was run by a single parent who was too busy out making minimum wage to be able to make sure the children ate anything more than peanut butter and toast.

  I grab
bed a stack of the photocopies, though, and stood up, handing them out. When Kristin shot me a quizzical look, I shrugged it off.

  “Just trying to feel useful,” I said.

  She smiled, obviously thinking that I was giving her a compliment because she’d just conducted class so well. I handed copies of the stapled article to each student, glad that Tessa was sitting at the far end of the row, meaning I would get to her last. I handed a copy to her friend Lindsey, who was giving me the eyes, and then I pretended several of the articles were stuck together, buying me a little time, before I finally detached one and gave it to Tessa. Our fingertips brushed.

  “Wait 10 minutes and then come to my office,” I said in a low voice. I wasn’t sure if she’d even heard me, but then she nodded. She started to pack up her stuff and follow the rest of the students out of the classroom.

  “So, how’d I do?” Kristin asked. “I think it went pretty well,” she said before I could respond. “I’d say most of them actually did the reading. Which is a pleasant surprise.”

  “You’re right,” I said. She looked pleased that I was agreeing with her. “That whole class was one big pleasant surprise.”

  9.

  Tessa

  After class, I packed up my stuff and acted as if I was going to leave. Instead, though, I hung out in the small lobby near the entrance. I could feel people’s eyes on me as they walked past, though I tried to ignore it. I pulled out my textbook and opened it randomly to a page, starting to read, even though I wasn’t really able to focus on what the words were saying. I just wanted to do something so it would look like I was busy.

  I heard someone say my name.

  I looked up. It was Nick, and he was with his best friend, Seth, who was one of his teammates. They were both tall, fit, and good-looking, and they were both walking toward me.

  “Tessa,” Nick said. He had the same expression on his face that he had when we first started hanging out. “I thought that was you. I like the outfit. A special occasion?”

  “Um . . .” I wracked my brain, trying to think of some sort of witty response. “Laundry day,” was the best I could come up with.

  Nick nodded. “It should be laundry day more often. How’ve you been?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Great. Glad to hear it. What are you up to right now?”

  “Oh, um, I’m just . . . just waiting for someone.”

  “Yeah?

  “Yeah.”

  “Cause I was thinking maybe—”

  “Come on, man,” Seth interrupted, laughing. “Don’t get started on that shit. We’ve got to get to class. You know I can’t flunk out of Professor Murphy’s class, and you know she’ll dock you for being late. Get your mind outta the gutter and let’s go.” He looked at me. “Not that I’m trying to ruin anyone’s plans or anything, but you understand, right?”

  “Of course,” I said, feeling my face flush. I pulled my phone out of my purse and looked at it. Ten minutes was almost up. “As a matter of fact, I have to get going, too. Nice to see you guys.”

  I stuffed my book back into my backpack and hurried off, not needing to turn to look to know that Nick was watching me as I went. I did feel a little surge of adrenaline shoot through me, just knowing that he was watching me, that what I was wearing today had managed to catch his eye. I made a note to tell Lindsey when I saw her later.

  I went into his office, trying not to feel nervous. I tried to replay what Lindsey had said to me, like a mantra, in my head. You’re doing this for you. This is empowering.

  But there was a part of me that was saying no self-respecting woman would do a thing like this, and that I certainly wouldn’t be in this situation if I didn’t need a better grade. Stop it. I pushed the thought out of my mind.

  “That’s quite the outfit,” he said slowly, his eyes moving up and down my body. But instead of just standing there with my gaze down like I was on display for his viewing pleasure only, I returned the look, taking in his square cut jaw, his long, straight nose, the bright blue eyes. Underneath his clothes, you could tell he had the sort of body that was home to supple, smooth muscles that would feel like silk underneath your fingertips. He was the sort of guy that had probably never been turned down by a girl before, and the thought that he wanted to do this with me made my whole body feel hypersensitive.

  “My mother bought it for me,” I said.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Really.”

  “Yeah. She was into road cycling for a while, and she tried to get me into it, too. I think she was more interested in the outfits, though. And the shoes. She liked the shoes; she said they were like reverse high heels.”

  “I see.”

  “I never actually wore this out riding a bike.”

  “That’s a shame. It’s very . . . striking.”

  He came over and stood in front of me, our bodies only inches from each other. My heart thudded; I could feel the pounding in my ears. My whole body felt electrified, the little hairs on my arms were standing straight up. I smiled, and that smile turned into a laugh, even though nothing funny had happened. I just needed a way to relieve a little of the pressure.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked softly.

  “I don’t know. This. It’s not funny, it’s just . . . I never thought that I’d be doing something like this.”

  “And what is it we’re doing?”

  Before I could respond, though, he brought his hand up to touch the side of my face, his forearm brushing my left nipple, which felt hard as glass, pushing against the thin material.

  The Lycra of the skin suit suddenly felt as though it were actually more like a wetsuit, this awful impediment that I just had to get rid of as quickly as I could. I reached up to pull the zipper down, because I was suddenly overwhelmed by the need to feel his hands against my bare skin. It was as if my flesh were on fire and his touch would be the only thing capable of putting it out.

  I got the zipper halfway down.

  There was a knock at the door.

  He pushed back from me so quickly he almost fell backward. I could see he had a huge erection, pressing against the front of his pants. I yanked the zipper back up and sat down in the chair in front of his desk.

  “Come in,” he barked.

  The door opened and Professor Douglass, one of the other journalism teachers, came in.

  “Oh,” she said, look of surprise crossing her face. “I’m sorry; I didn’t realize you were having a meeting.”

  “That’s generally what a closed door means,” he said, settling himself back in the chair behind his desk. I breathed a little sigh of relief; at least this way she wouldn’t be able to see that he had an erection.

  I hoped my own face wouldn’t betray anything. My cheeks were probably flushed, but I tried to look as though we had just been talking about something that had to do with class. I felt Professor Douglass’s eyes take in my outfit, though she didn’t say anything. About that, anyway.

  “I just wanted to borrow your copy of Feature Writing Fundamentals. My own copy seems to have gone missing, and there’s a chapter I’d like to have as a handout for my next class.”

  “Yeah, sure, whatever you want,” Leo said. He swiveled in his chair to the overstuffed bookshelf behind his desk. He pulled a tattered copy of the book out and held it out to her. She looked unimpressed that he wasn’t going to get up and hand it to her, so I reached over and got it from him, then turned and handed it to her.

  “Thank you,” she said to me, though her eyes were still on Leo. “I’ll get this back to you shortly.”

  She paused, waiting for him to say something in return, but he didn’t, so she turned and left, though not before letting her gaze linger on me a few more seconds.

  “She’s wondering where on earth you got an outfit like that,” Leo said, breaking the silence once Professor Douglass was gone.

  “She looked more horrified that I’d actually wear something like that out of the house.”

  “She’s just e
nvious because she knows she’d never look as good as you do, no matter how many Pilates classes she took.” He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his palms together. “It’s kind of insane how good that looks on you, though I must admit, I’d much rather see it off.”

  I thought back to a few minutes ago, his hand on the side of my face, my whole body tingling with this overwhelming desire. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this way, not even with Nick. It was like all Leo had to do was ask me to take my clothes off and lay across his desk and I would.

  But he didn’t; he took a deep breath and shook his head, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “That won’t do,” he said. “What just happened there. I’m all for the exciting aspect of this, but having Carla fucking Douglass walk in on me like that doesn’t fall into that category. What are you doing tomorrow night?”

  “Tomorrow night? Um, studying?”

  “Why don’t you come over to my place. You can study over there.”

  “Sure,” I said, even though I knew studying was the last thing that we’d be doing.

  10.

  Leo

  I was heading to the faculty parking lot when I heard someone yelling my name. I turned and saw Jack, hurrying after me, his Timbuk2 messenger bag stuffed full of books and papers, bouncing off his side as he jogged.

  “Hey, what’s up man?” I said when he caught up with me. He stood there for a moment, trying to get his breath back. I eyed his bag. “What the hell do you have in that thing, anyway?”

  He waved a hand. “Oh, you know. The essentials. What are you doing right now? You want to go grab a drink later?”

  “I can’t,” I said. “I’ve got plans.”

  His face lit up. “With Colette? It was really good seeing her the other night.”

  “No, not with Colette. Why don’t you call Colette?”

  Jack tried to hide his disappointment. “No, I’m not going to do that.” Jack had been very heartbroken to hear that Colette and I had broken up. At first, I thought he had liked her himself and would have been thrilled that he could have waited a few months and then made a move, but so far, that wasn’t happening, and I was beginning to believe that what Jack really enjoyed was getting to hang out with Colette and me as a couple.

 

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