Naughty Professor - A Standalone Teacher Romance

by Claire Adams

  I reached up to gently trail my fingers through the tendrils of hair that was splayed out on the pillow. If heartbreak meant endlessly trying to drown yourself in a bottle, then I never wanted to truly be in love.

  I understood the situation better than my mom ever would know. Hearing that my father had another life with another woman had stung deeper than I cared to admit. What was so wrong with us that he couldn’t love us back?

  “It’s his loss,” I whispered, curling the tendrils of hair around my finger. “It’s not our loss. It’s his loss. Why can’t you see that?”

  She stirred awake at the sound of my voice. Blinking sleepily, she looked up at me in confusion.

  “What is it? Why did you wake me?”

  “I got an email from the management for my apartment building,” I said. “They said that we can go back now that they are done fumigating.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “And you’re going to go now?”

  I hated it when she acted like this. It made leaving hard, and I always walked away with guilt brewing in my stomach.

  “I have to,” I said. “I need to get some homework done before classes start on Monday again.”

  Her hand reached forward, and for a wild moment, I thought she intended to grab my hand. A frown tugged at her dry lips.

  “Where’s my vodka?” she asked.

  Ignoring the pang in my chest, I stood from the side of her bed. “It’s gone. I poured it out. I have to get going.”

  She rose from the bed with surprising stability, considering how much alcohol she had consumed since eight o’clock this morning. I tensed when she came toward me with an angry frown, but she breezed by me to open her bedroom door. I followed her down the hallway and stairs with a headache pounding in my temples. I found her in the kitchen rummaging through her liquor cabinet.

  “Mom,” I started.

  “You can’t throw my alcohol out like that,” she said, not bothering to turn around. “Money is tight around here, Iris. You know that. You threw out twenty-two-dollars’ worth of alcohol.”

  My fingers curled up as anger burned the center of my chest.

  “We’d have money if you didn’t spend it all on boozing your sorrows away,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m leaving now, Mom. I’ll see you in a couple weeks once I’m done with school.”

  She turned sharply on the heels of her bare feet to glare at me. “You can’t just throw my alcohol out without offering to buy me another bottle.”

  “What makes you think I have the money to buy it?” I snapped out. “If I had any money, I would’ve rented out a cheap hotel for a week, rather than coming here for my spring break.”

  The second those words slipped out, I wished I could take them back. They hit my mother hard, in the heart, where I’d intended. She burst into tears and buried her face into her hands while sinking down to the ground.

  “Everyone always hates me,” she moaned, rocking back and forth. “Everyone always leaves me. First my husband and then my daughter.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my temper in check. Why did it always have to turn into this when I left? Fed up with the tears, I pressed a kiss to her a temple before taking a step back.

  “I love you, Mom. I’m not going to buy you alcohol so you can drown yourself. I’ll see you once school is done.”

  She didn’t bother responding. I grabbed my bags and stepped out into the warm afternoon. The entire neighborhood was drenched in melting snow with the first signs of spring in the air. I walked to my car with my heart lifting with each step. I hated leaving my mother in a blubbering mess, but I didn’t want to sit around and watch her guzzle down another bottle.

  My phone buzzed from where I had shoved it into the front pocket of my hoodie. I pulled it out to find another text message from Noah.

  You can’t hide from me forever.

  Nerves fluttered in my stomach because I knew he was right. I couldn’t avoid him forever. I had class with him first thing Monday morning, and if I wanted to graduate, I had to go to class.

  Like the other times he had texted and called me, I didn’t bother responding. I knew it wasn’t the best way to handle things, but the next few months were on the line for me. I wanted to graduate. I needed to graduate. I couldn’t let Noah and temptation take over me again like it had this spring break.

  On the drive back to my apartment, I rolled the window down to allow the fresh spring air to wash over me. The apartment building was completely silent when I parked in my usual spot and started up the metal stairs.

  “Thank God,” I said, pushing the front door open with my foot. “I never thought I’d be so happy to be back here.”

  Silence greeted me, and I welcomed it happily. I opened the living room curtains and windows to get rid of the chilly air. Not bothering to unpack yet, I sank down in the living room couch with a weary sigh.

  I had a few days before Bailey returned to the apartment with undoubtedly a nice tan and stories about her new boy-toy. As tempting as it was to fall asleep wrapped up in a blanket, I grabbed my monetary economics book to get ahead.

  Something thumped to the ground. I leaned into the couch pillows to see the volume of English Victorian literature on the floor. You can’t hide from me forever.

  The buzz of my phone interrupted the memories of Noah above me. I glanced at the caller ID warily to find the one person calling that I didn’t expect. I held my phone up to my ear gingerly. “Dad?”

  “Iris,” he said, a bit too formally. “Your mother called the house here, drunk as usual.”

  A ragged breath escaped my lips. Of course, he wasn’t calling to check up on me. He had a new wife and a baby to check up on. I sunk back against the couch pillows.

  “And?” I asked. “She’s always drunk and calling people.”

  “I realize that. I tried to tell her that she can’t call the house unless it’s an emergency and has to do with you.”

  I doubted he’d even answer if it had to do with me.

  “Okay,” I said. “What do you want me to do about it, then?”

  “I want you tell the damned woman to leave me alone,” he barked out. “I’m tired of her doing this, Iris. She said that you are with her, so I-”

  “I’m not with her,” I interrupted. “I left this morning. She probably called you because she was upset that I left.”

  “Your mother’s feelings aren’t my responsibility, Iris.”

  “One of the perks of getting divorced, it sounds like.”

  Silence stretched on. I could see my dad standing there with the phone pressed up against his ear, and a frown tugging at his lips as he tried discern whether or not I was being sarcastic or serious. If I closed my eyes, I could picture him perfectly in his khaki shorts, a striped polo shirt, and a mop of dark hair that he smoothed back to show off the gray. It screamed rich and wealthy and a lifetime of experience to women my age who wanted something like that.

  “Are you toying with me?” he finally asked.

  “Nope,” I said. “Have to go, Dad. I have a life to live that doesn’t involve you, either.”

  “Iris-”

  I hung up before he could start the lecture of talking to him with respect. It’s all your fault, Dad. People blame the parents all the time, but it really is your fault. Mom’s drinking. Me. All of it is your fault.

  My phone buzzed again. I blinked back tears while I gazed down at the phone screen as Noah’s call went to voicemail. I was being immature by ignoring his calls, but I had no idea how to process any of it.

  We were both consenting adults. It wasn’t taboo for us to have a relationship, but I didn’t even know if Noah wanted that. He didn’t strike me as the type of man who settled down from what I’d read on the internet. One thing I knew for sure was that he knew his way around a woman’s body.

  I picked up my monetary economics textbook again. There was no doubt in my mind that Monday morning would be awkward no matter what I said or did when I faced Noah fo
r the first time.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Noah

  The campus was still dark and still when I parked in the professors’ parking lot. I navigated along the dimly lit pathways with familiarity until I reached the dining hall right as they opened. Helping myself to some coffee, I ventured to the English Department in a mixture of anticipation and nerves.

  There was no more avoiding me now. Iris had to show up to class if she had any hopes of passing Freshman English. Her grade depended upon attendance, not just work – or anything else that had happened over spring break.

  Kale’s office light was on when I climbed up the stairs. I paused in the doorframe, blinking to adjust to the bright light and grinned when he turned around in his chair.

  “You look nice and tanned,” I said.

  “You look nice and pale,” he replied, returning the grin. “What are you doing here so early?”

  I shrugged my shoulders casually to hide the real reason why I wanted to be here early: I wanted answers from Iris.

  “Couldn’t sleep,” I said. “What about you?”

  “I’m grading a stack of exams I didn’t do before I left,” he said, grimacing. “I promised Miles they’d be in the system before 8:00 a.m. classes.”

  “All party and no work, huh?”

  “You could say that.” He laughed. “How was your break with all the snow?”

  Flashes of Iris naked underneath me appeared in my head. I shook those away and tucked my hands into the front pockets of my pants. “Not bad. The snow melted two days later, so it wasn’t a huge deal. Pretty much warm the entire time you were gone. Nothing like the beach, though, I’m sure.”

  “No, nothing like the beach. The women there are gorgeous.” He sighed wistfully. “I almost didn’t come back here. It was that tempting to stay.”

  “I’m glad you did,” I said. “Otherwise, I’d have to hang out with the other professors.”

  “I’d really like to see that.”

  I left him to finish up grading before the sun rose. A chilly air occupied my office from being vacant for over a week. I adjusted the heat and took a seat at my desk to check through the usual boring emails about the events happening on campus this week. I nearly clicked out of the browser when my eyes caught sight of an email subject that said, Jack Miller: Love Triangle.

  I opened the email. I had a decent-sized fan base, but none of them sent emails to my personal address. I had a designated email address just for Jack Miller fans.

  Dear Jack Miller,

  I am an agent for Sweet Stuff Publishing in New York. Your book, Love Triangle, caught my attention among millions of others. I see that it has been a few months since you last published, and I do hope you will continue.

  With that said, I have an offer for you, if you could please give me a call at the number below. We think you would be a wonderful addition to our staff of elite authors.

  Sincerely,

  Carly Frey

  Sweet Stuff Publishing Agent

  “Interesting,” I said, reaching up to rub at my chin. “It’s catching the eyes of agents now?”

  I’d never expected that Love Triangle would be a great hit with readers. It had sort of been an experiment when I wrote it to vent of some sexual tension. Now, I had emails all the time asking for me to write other books, but I lacked the time to sit down and write another four hundred pages without life getting in the way.

  I made a mental note to call Carly Frey later to see what her offer was. Five minutes before 8:00 a.m., I walked down to my classroom to find a few students gathered in front of the door. I scanned the group for Iris’ sand-colored hair, but she hadn’t arrived yet. I forced myself to smile at everyone, despite the disappointment swelling in my stomach.

  “Good morning,” I said, almost too cheerfully for my own liking. “Did everyone have a good spring break?”

  I half-listened to my students talk about their spring breaks as I unlocked the classroom. Glancing up at the clock above the door, I tried to not let my annoyance show. Either Iris had reverted back to her old habits by being late, or she was on her way to class. For her sake, I hoped it was the latter.

  I handed back everyone’s paper while I gave Iris another five minutes to show up. While those minutes ticked by, I stared down at Iris’ essay in my hand. It was a thoughtful paper with improved writing, but now I wondered if she really did deserve that A I had scrawled on the top corner. I curled the paper up and stuffed it into the back pocket of my pants before turning to address the rest of the class.

  “Did everyone get to read the assigned reading?” I asked, glancing up at the clock. Again.

  They all nodded. At least my freshman students took everything I said seriously. I sighed inwardly when the realization that Iris wasn’t coming hit me. Something could’ve come up, but I had doubts. I had a lot of doubts about her not showing up for class.

  It took all my self-control not to pull out my phone to text her and demand a reason for her not attending. Fuck it. If she wanted to play that type of game and put her grade in jeopardy, that was her deal.

  For an entire hour, I tried to keep myself focused on my lesson plan, but anger brewed inside me. I was getting a taste of my own bitter medicine, and I didn’t like it. Hunter had been right when he said it was my pride getting upset about possibly being used for a good grade.

  And, both our futures at PHU were on the line because of that one night of wonderful temptation.

  I waited until the last of my students were out before I stopped Jen on her way out. Before she had left for spring break, I had given the okay for her to transfer into my morning class to better fit her hectic class schedule.

  “Have you spoken to Ms. Paige this morning?” I asked, keeping my expression as calm as possible. I didn’t want to tip off Jen anything, but she seemed to be pretty close to Iris.

  She shook her head, short black curls bouncing at the movement. “I haven’t heard anything from her,” she said, and concern filtered through her voice. “I’ll give her a call this afternoon if you want me to.”

  I nodded. “That would be great if you can. Try to remind her that her grade depends on attendance of classes and our tutoring sessions later this afternoon.”

  “I will try to get a hold of her.”

  The rest of the afternoon was a chaotic blur of getting back into the swing of teaching. I barely thought of Iris until I walked down to the bottom floor to find a few students, but no sign of her anywhere. I shook my head in exasperation. Clearly, she didn’t care much about her grade – or graduating period – if she thought she could skip out to avoid me.

  Jen approached me the moment I set my bag down on the table. I tried to read the expression on her face.

  “She said that she’s been sick,” Jen said, shrugging her shoulders. “I tried to tell her to get to tutoring, but she insisted that she was too ill to move.”

  I didn't push it, despite my urge to point out that was a bullshit reason. I pulled out my copy of English Victorian Literature and a couple of pens.

  “Thank you, Jen,” I managed to say in an even voice. “I appreciate you tracking her down for me.”

  “Of course,” she said. “She did mention, though, that she would be in class on Wednesday when I repeated what you told me about her grade depending on attendance.”

  I knew that would get Iris’ attention. I nodded as Jen moved over to sit in a chair across from me. I glanced down at my notes. I would have to wait until Wednesday to get the answers that I wanted.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Iris

  The shrill of my phone alarm jolted me out of a dreamless asleep at exactly 6:45 a.m. My hand fumbled through the darkness of blankets and sheets until I found my phone to turn the alarm off. I snuggled back into my blanket and debated falling back asleep for another thirty minutes. A headache already pounded in my head thanks to the endless night of tossing and turning.

  Just thinking about Noah made my stomach twist in
a million different directions. There was no doubt in my mind that he planned on confronting me when he got the chance. After class and tutoring would be the perfect time to do it, too. There wouldn’t be any other students or faculty around to interrupt us.

  And, he would ask the questions I didn’t have answers to. I was already confused enough about how I felt toward Noah and the situation in general. I didn’t feel ready to explain anything when I had no idea what I felt.

  I burrowed myself further into my blankets with a weary sigh. Break had gone by too fast, and I needed more time to figure out how to face Noah now that we both had crossed a line together. Both of our futures were skating on thin ice because of the night we had spent at his house.

  There was no chance I could face him just yet. I needed more time.

  The sound of Bailey rummaging through the kitchen cupboards thirty minutes later pulled me back from the restless doze I had fallen into.

  “Iris?” she called out. “Iris? Are you awake yet?”

  Footsteps approached my bedroom door. I screwed my eyes shut when she pushed the door open, letting in a flood of light.

  “You’re still in bed? Don’t you have your Freshman English class this morning?”

  “Yeah,” I said, tugging the blankets up to cover my face. “Go away. I feel like I’m catching something.”

  “You’re ditching, then?” Hands tugged at the blanket, but I held firm. “There is seriously something wrong with you if you’re actively ditching a class that means graduating in May.”

  “Is it a crime to feel like shit?” I grumbled out. “I don’t question what you do, Bailey.”

  “That’s because I have my life together,” she responded sweetly. “Come on. I know you aren’t sick. Even when you’re sick, you go to class.”

  She managed to tug the blanket down to my nose. I stared up at her as she huffed in irritation, hands on her hips.

  “Why don’t you just tell me what your problem is?”

  That was the last thing I wanted to do before seven o’clock in the morning. Especially with Bailey, who would want every juicy detail as possible. I wasn’t ready to even talk about it to myself without fearing what would happen. I didn’t even know where Noah personally stood.