Naughty Professor - A Standalone Teacher Romance

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Naughty Professor - A Standalone Teacher Romance Page 7

by Claire Adams

Jen bid us both goodbye before leaving through the front door. A thick silence fell between us as Noah grabbed my test to look at it again. I strained to hear the sound of the other English professors’ voices, but the only thing I could hear was the sound of my own heart and the old pipes clanging upstairs as the furnace turned on miraculously for once after five o’clock.

  “I think you’re right.”

  I blinked in confusion as Noah looked up from my exam and pushed it back across the table to me. He reached up to run a hand through his hair with a sigh. I caught the first glimpse of exhaustion in his eyes.

  “About what?” I asked warily. I had no idea what he had in store for our tutoring sessions.

  “That you have a lot on your plate,” he said. “I asked around the department. Everyone I asked mentioned to me you are an excellent student and writer.”

  A small part of me swelled with pride to hear that.

  “However, they’ve all said the same thing that I’m seeing,” he continued, gravely.

  “What?”

  “That you’re distracted by something.”

  “Oh.” I deflated instantly at those words. “Yeah, well, who isn’t distracted the end of their senior year? You have to figure out a job, a place to go, and everything else.”

  “It’s not that scary,” Noah said reassuringly. “You don’t strike me as the type of woman who just lets the breeze blow her around.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. I mentally added perceptive to the list of things Noah was in my head. Clearing my throat, I looked down at my test in vain hope that we could change the subject.

  “What can I do to make this up?” I asked. “I don’t want a bad mark in this class.”

  “Iris.”

  The sound of my name slipping through Noah’s lips instantly put the hair on my arms on edge in the most pleasant ways. A shiver inched its way up my spine before I squashed all those heated feelings away with horror. What was wrong with me? I never had a reaction to a man like that – let alone a professor.

  I sucked in a deep breath before gathering the courage to meet Noah’s gaze. He stared at me in genuine concern.

  “I’m not talking to you as a professor,” he said. “I’m expressing concern that you are having a hard time with something. I want to help you get through these next couple of months if I can.”

  It was tempting to tell him to stop riding me over the littlest things, but there was something different about the way he was talking this time. He appeared to be genuinely concerned about what went in his students’ lives, but I couldn’t tell him the truth about mine.

  I couldn’t tell him that I wanted to get away from my alcoholic mother who was trying to drown herself in bottles. I couldn’t tell him that I wanted to get far away as possible from Bailey because I was tired of being fake. I couldn’t tell him that I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life after college. I just wanted to leave and figure it out all at a later date.

  “I’m just ready to leave Utah,” I said, giving him the very short version of it. “I have a lot of things going on in my life that aren’t fun to deal with. I just need a new change of scenery.”

  “I get that,” Noah said, nodding. “I went through the same thing too when I was in New Zealand. I wanted to do something different.”

  “Like teach a whole of bunch of freshman?” I snorted. “You were famous back there. Why did you give it up?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Fame is hard, and I didn’t like my personal life spread out along the tabloids. That’s all really.”

  “And you stumbled into teaching?” I asked in disbelief. “No offense, but it’s hard to consider you a professor. You look way too young.”

  He chuckled deeply, and the sound warmed me from the inside out.

  “I’m thirty years old. An athlete has a shelf life while your brain never does.” He tapped the side of his temple. “I loved to write as a kid, but I went down a pretty typical jock path and did well there. I just figured I better go back to English before all the hits to my head took a permanent toll.”

  It made sense, a little bit, at least. I had gotten that type of feeling while reading through several articles of Noah’s departure from rugby and New Zealand after repeated ACL injuries.

  The faint ding of church bells broke the silence. Noah glanced down at his wristwatch before looking up at me with regret. “I’m afraid that I have somewhere to be in the next thirty minutes. Is there anything I can help you with, besides maybe lend an ear? I can’t help you with your class work. You’ve gotta stay committed to that on your own.”

  “I know.” I gathered my test and placed it in my binder. “I appreciate it, though. I will be fine.”

  We both stood from the table at the same time. Noah’s eyes hooded slightly when I looked up at him, taking in the sharp features covered in a shadow of a beard. The back of my legs bumped into the chair when I took a step back to put space between us.

  “See you Wednesday,” I said. “Thanks, again.”

  “Be on time,” he replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re welcome, though. And, I’m serious, Iris. My office is always open if you need something.”

  I gave a nod before hurrying out of the building into the frigid evening. My breath puffed out in front of me in clouds while I hurried across campus to the student parking lot. No matter what I tried to think, I felt an array of confused emotions. There was no doubt in my mind I found Noah attractive, but his brash attitude in class had completely soured it – until this evening.

  Now, I didn’t know what to think. We hadn’t even talked about my test, but I had a feeling this tutoring session had nothing to do with my tardiness. He wanted to understand my situation – a first in a long time.

  I was treading dangerous water again with those thoughts, but I couldn’t help it. It was a huge relief to know an actual person lived behind that stoic face during class. Even if I had no idea how to process our conversation.

  I reached my car a minute later and hopped in behind the steering wheel. While I waited for the heater to warm up the windshield, I used the cold to keep myself awake and to banish those thoughts of Noah. I had other things to do, like the essay he wanted us to turn in on Wednesday.

  Chapter Eleven

  Noah

  I locked the door to my office after double checking my e-mails. The warm sunshine was too hard to resist. I didn’t want to be cooped up all day in my stifling office while the rest of the world enjoyed the melting snow and warm sunshine.

  A warming trend had hit Utah, the first hopeful sign of spring. The cold and snowy weather didn’t bother me much after being in New Zealand, but I did miss walking outside without freezing my ass off.

  I stopped in front of Kale’s office to find him sitting at his desk with a red pen in hand. I grinned at the dirty look he gave me.

  “Stuck grading for the afternoon?” I asked, leaning on the doorframe with one shoulder.

  Kale grimaced as he looked down at the impressive stack of papers. “Unfortunately,” he said, twirling the red pen between his fingers. “Going out to enjoy the sunshine while it lasts?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’ll enjoy it for the both of us. Can you tell students if they come looking for me that I’ll be in the office early tomorrow if they need me?”

  “Sure. No problem. Go enjoy the afternoon, you son-of-a-bitch.”

  The sidewalks were drenched with melting snow when I stepped outside. Students lingered about in patches of sunshine throughout campus, and everyone’s spirits, including mine, were lifting at the warm weather.

  I spotted a familiar face stepping out of the library before I reached the professors’ parking lot. Nose literally buried in a book, Iris continued down the sidewalk without sparing a glance around her. My gaze landed on her ass as it always did whenever I had the opportunity to check it out – and today, she wore tight, bright-blue yoga pants that hugged her in all the right ways.

  “Damn,” I whispered, sh
aking the feeling off. “If only…”

  We had made some process yesterday with our tutoring session. I still didn’t know what to think of her reasons for being so distracted, though. I had a feeling it was something deeper than what she spoke of, but I wasn’t about to push the limits after I finally earned a little bit of trust.

  I watched her disappear around the corner back in the direction of the dining hall. For a moment, I debated going after her, but I settled on seeing her tomorrow morning for class and tutoring. The last thing I needed was a rumor going about the campus that I bought a student coffee.

  I had to stay clear of Iris, even if my body longed to be close to her. I had no idea why she had an intoxicating effect on me, but I had to resist the temptation before something happened.

  I continued down the path and stopped short when I recognized the rugby team on the field also taking advantage of the warm sunshine for practice. Nostalgia filled me instantly, and against my better judgment, I walked to the edge of the parking lot that overlooked the field. They were good, I decided after watching them for a few minutes of practicing. I’d give them that. They were championship material.

  My right knee ached watching them jump around. I wouldn’t be able to coach. I loved that damn sport too much to be on the sidelines. I’d still be playing it if my ACL hadn’t torn twice in back-to-back seasons. If that other shit hadn’t happened, I’d still be out on that field, traveling around the world, and enjoying a fine-ass woman’s company at night.

  Those had been the days I had lived for, instead of the days I lived now in front of a classroom of students. I was lucky, though. I turned away from the field to head back to my car. I could walk around, even if it was painful. It could’ve been a lot worse.

  My phone buzzed in the front pocket of my blazer. I groaned inwardly when I read the name on the phone’s screen. I debated for a few seconds about letting it go straight to voicemail, but it was useless. He’d just call again and again until I finally got annoyed and answered.

  “I don’t have time to talk, Dad,” I said, pulling out my car keys from my pocket. “Can we talk later about whatever it is that you are calling me about?”

  “You won’t answer the phone later. You avoid my calls and have been for months. So, I need to borrow you for a few minutes now.”

  Even at thirty, my father had a way of commanding me around. I hated it. He micro-managed everyone around him, and I blamed it on his position as CEO of a large bank. He paid too much attention to little things. Overbearing was what my mother called it.

  I couldn’t agree more since I had announced retirement from rugby. I never heard the end of it. Wealth and power made my father invincible in his own mind. He still held firm that his fancy lawyers could do something for me.

  “What is it?” I asked, even though I had a suspicion of what it was about. It was the same reason why my mother had called two days ago.

  “Your mother told me that you have accepted a teaching gig at PHU all the way in Utah.” I grimaced slightly at the disdain dripping off his words. “My son, a nationally famous rugby player, has taken a job teaching freshman students at some strictly religious university. Do you catch my drift on this, Noah?”

  “Caught it,” I said, coldly. “We’ve been over this before, Dad. I’m done playing rugby. I can’t do it anymore.”

  “You can keep doing it, though,” he countered, firmly. “You’re wasting your God-given talent down there hiding behind your books. I still think your mother is to blame for all this.”

  “She had nothing to do with it,” I said, defensively.

  “Then I’m asking you to consider calling that lawyer I mentioned to you before you moved. He can help you get more money if you need it.”

  “I don’t need the money,” I replied, flatly. “I’m doing fine with my books and teaching job.”

  “Just consider what I’m saying, Noah. Think about what we’ve talked about before.”

  He hung up without waiting for my reply. I stuffed my phone back into my pocket with an aggravated sigh. The cherry on top of an interesting day.

  I drove thirty minutes with the windows cracked to let the warm air in. The parking lot of Hunter’s Small Engine Repair was empty when I pulled up. Ignoring the closed sign on the door, I stepped into the small shop that smelled of gas and oil.

  “I’m closed!” Hunter yelled out from the back. “Come back tomorrow morning.”

  The irritation in his voice would’ve been enough for any person to turn around and walk back out. He had a way of talking to people, but I slipped into the back of the building where it was uncomfortably warm to find Hunter bent over a lawnmower. He looked up from the engine, a scowl tugging at his lips.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  I arched an eyebrow at the irritation. “Someone piss in your Cheerios this morning?”

  The scowl remained in place. Hunter looked back down at the engine with the type of intense concentration I wished my students had. His hands moved about the engine, twisting on bolts here and there.

  I waited patiently for it. After eleven years of friendship, I knew well how Hunter worked when it came to him being pissed. He finally dropped a wrench down to the ground with a weary sigh.

  “It never seems to end. Always being short on money, man,” he said. “My wife doesn’t know how far behind this place is on bills and paying on advertising. It’s just not a good season for me.”

  “How much do you need?” I asked, sympathetically.

  “At least $4,000 to catch up on everything.”

  “Fuck,” I exclaimed, shaking my head at him. “The price of your dream is really costing you.”

  His scowl returned. “You think this is my dream?” He flourished an angry hand at the cluttered shop around him. “My dream was to keep playing rugby, but what a bust that turned out to be. I had no other choice but to go into business for myself. You know how hard it is to get a job without a good degree?”

  “It was a bust for the both of us,” I added, rubbing at my knee with a sigh. I found a small chair with wheels on it and scooted along the floor to sit in front Hunter as he picked up the wrench again. “Why did you drop out of college in the first place? I told you not to do that.”

  “Shit. I was failing four classes that we needed to graduate. It was the last semester of our senior year, too,” he said. “My pride got in the way when I realized there was no way in hell I could get all my grades up in time. I just wanted to get out on that field and be a star like you. I didn’t care about anything else.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I still think we both got the shitty end of luck. Torn ACL, twice, and I was dropped like a rusted penny.”

  “And, they were getting tired of doing damage control over all those headlines about women sleeping with you,” Hunter said, chuckling lightly. He resumed work on the engine. “Speaking of that, please tell me you haven’t tapped into any of those college girls at PHU.”

  “Well, I’m still intact below the belt,” I said slyly. “According to you, they’d chop my appendage off if I touched a student.”

  “I said losing your job is a given. The other part, I have no idea – and don’t want to know, either.”

  “Apparently it’s happened quite a bit there,” I said, leaning back in my chair to fold my hands behind my head. I stared up at the ceiling as images of Iris danced in my mind. “That’s why I’m in the position I’m in. The previous professor went for it.”

  “That dean is all business about something like that. They don’t ask questions when it comes to their reputation being threatened.”

  A long silence stretched between us. I felt Hunter’s eyes studying me before he finally spoke up again. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, don’t do it. You don’t want your name slandered here in this state.”

  “I’m not doing anything,” I said, defensively. “There’s just one student of mine. She’s a graduating senior, and she’s a walking temptation.


  “Noah.” I looked down at Hunter’s tone to meet his warning gaze. “Don’t go for it, dude. It’s not worth ruining your reputation over.”

  “I know that,” I grumbled out, massaging the back of my neck to work out the tension there. “I’m just saying she’s fine is all. I only play in my fantasies at this point.”

  “Good. Stay there or find someone else who isn’t a student.”

  That was the thing, though: I didn’t look at Iris as a student. I looked at her as a grown woman with a backbone and ever-revolving personality. There were layers to her, and I liked that immensely. Not to mention how many times I imagined those long legs wrapped about my waist, and her squirming beneath me in pleasure.

  My mouth went dry. I needed to release some tension. That much Hunter was right about.

  “I’ll let you get back to work,” I said, standing from the chair. “Just thought I’d drop in. Hit me up this weekend. We’ll go blow steam off somewhere.”

  Hunter gave a nod before focusing back on the engine. “Sounds good,” he said. “Hang tight, bro. I know you. You’ll find someone who will strike your interest.”

  The house was cold when I finally made it back. The warmth of the day had faded away the second the sun had set. I clicked the furnace on before sliding in a frozen pizza into the oven. I let out an exhausted sigh when I plopped down onto the couch, grabbing my computer in the process to check emails.

  “Great,” I groaned out, catching sight of an unread email from Miles. “I wonder what this could be about now.”

  Noah,

  I stopped by your office this afternoon, but Kale kindly informed me you had left early today. Hope you are well.

  The boys saw you today watching them practice. I told them that I would ask if you’d like to help out twice a week with practice since I had yet to hear from you on the subject.

  Sincerely,

  Miles

  My fingers itched to type out a less than happy reply. What part didn’t he get that I was no longer interested in rugby? I rubbed at my face in frustration before channeling a professional response from deep down inside of me.

 

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