by Folsom, Rene
“Thanks for your help, Vic. Hopefully we’ll see each other around?”
I turned around to look for his answer to my question, but when I glanced at him, he had a look of disappointment and a little anger on his face.
After I realized he was unresponsive, I leaned down slightly to get his attention and bring him back to planet earth. In response, he ran his long fingers behind his neck and shifted uncomfortably.
“Uh… yeah. See ya,” he mumbled, then walked back out the glass double doors and rounded the corner quickly, heading toward the outside staircase.
Well, that was odd. My first-impression disorder probably made him change his mind about me. I thought for sure he would ask me out, or at least attempt to get my number.
No time to think about the uncomfortable departure though, because I was already going to be disrupting class as it was.
Quietly and carefully, I eased the classroom door open and slithered through the small opening before hustling to my usual stool around the large lab table.
The photography lab was one of my favorite classrooms.
To the right of the classroom doors was Mr. Barnes’ private office, where he kept his personal equipment and student records. His big desk was straight ahead along with several iMacs and digital photo printers set up as stations along the backside wall where thin, tall windows brought in just a hint of sunshine. To the left was the classroom seating area, several large lab sinks, and the door to the hallway leading to the darkrooms and other lab facilities.
Instead of individual desks, we all gathered around a large, high-top lab table in the center of the room.
Advanced Photography was a smaller size than the usual college classes because it was such a specific subject, not to mention expensive when it came to equipment and supplies. There were only fourteen students in this class, which made for a very intimate and competitive learning environment. But the competition between classmates wasn’t malicious in any way. We thrived off each other, using our different talents and experiences as inspiration for one another. The healthy competition motivated us all and made us strive to do our best.
“Thank you for joining us, Ms. Petersen. Since you are now ten minutes tardy, I will need to see you after class,” a silky, seductive voice said just as I attempted a beeline for my seat, making me jump and look up in surprise.
My heart pounded in my head and I felt all the blood completely leave my body. In front of the class stood my parking-spot thief.
Chapter 2
“His gray eyes were dancing with serious amusement—such a walking contradiction.”
The man casually standing in front of the class was so young and attractive—very attractive—infuriatingly attractive.
He was still wearing that smug grin while leaning his ass against the desk. His arms crossing over his chest caused his muscles to strain against the white, button-up shirt he so casually wore. His black slacks trailed down his long legs as he overlapped one ankle on the other and lounged against the sturdy piece of furniture.
What I wouldn’t give to be that desk right now.
All I could do was nod and blink rapidly, my eyes matching my heart rate. I definitely didn’t trust my voice as irritation and embarrassment began to boil beneath my skin.
I wanted to glare at him with a venomous look so he knew of my distaste for his lack of parking courtesy. But seeing as he was my new professor and, seriously, the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen, I just kept my head down. In a daze, I took my seat quickly.
Crossing my arms around myself, I attempted not to look as upset and uncomfortable as I felt.
Glancing up in his direction to see why he hadn’t continued talking, I realized he was still staring at me. Crawling further into my hole, I quickly looked away, burying my chin in my chest. Noticing my cleavage was as obvious as two watermelons popping out of my shirt, I hid my grin as I comprehended what he was actually staring at.
Figures.
Even though I was angry, I couldn’t help but replay the sound of his warm voice—my last name rolling and dripping off his tongue, like he was licking sweet ice cream.
Oh, knock it off, Julia.
I knew we would have a new professor that day. The faculty change wasn’t surprising.
Mr. Barnes, my beloved photography teacher for the past year and a half, told us he was retiring from teaching due to medical reasons.
In a private meeting with him over a month ago, he informed me he was suffering from stage IV Lymphoma. He had been fighting the cancer for quite some time, but was losing the battle. He explained how tired and sick he felt all the time and how much he was truly going to miss teaching photography, but that he missed spending time with his wife even more. If he was going to spend the last of his days battling this disease, he wanted to do it by her side.
Mr. Barnes was a rugged, biker type on the exterior, but once we all got to know him, we knew he was a big softie who loved his job, his students, and above all else, photography. He had long, gray hair pulled into a small ponytail at the nape of his neck and a gray goatee rimming his lips and chin. His attire often consisted of jeans, t-shirt, and a leather vest with various buttons on it, showing pride in the places he had visited on his motorcycle. He’d recently shaved all his hair off completely and I knew it was because of the cancer treatments.
Oh, I was going to miss him.
The infuriating, yet striking, man standing at the front of the class rambled on about how he planned to work with Mr. Barnes electronically to make sure the class stayed as close to the original syllabus as possible.
With medium-toned skin, his body was a perfect combination of height and muscle. It seemed he spent some time in the sun by the looks of his dirty blond hair with different shades and highlights. His hair wasn’t necessarily neat, but uneven and free. I wanted to run my hands through each strand and feel the texture beneath my fingers.
I was only half listening as he explained his sincere apologies for the reason behind Mr. Barnes’ sudden departure and how he planned to make the transition on us as easy as possible without letting it affect our learning. He likely had no idea just how much Mr. Barnes meant to me. No words from a stranger could make me feel any better about losing my mentor—my friend.
I was somewhat dazed when he took that moment to approach the entire group.
Even though there were two empty stools mingled around the table, he ended up dragging a stool from the side of the room and settled himself next to my left, plunking his elbows down on the tabletop, and propping his chin in his palms.
He was too close for comfort. Chill bumps crawled up my spine and my mind went confusingly blurry. He was so good looking and smelled divine. A mixture of light cologne and rugged man assaulted my senses. But I was also very aware of how freaking annoyed I was at him for what he did to me earlier.
Didn’t teachers get special parking anyway? Why did he have to mooch a parking space in the student lot?
He was going around the table, asking each one of the students to introduce themselves and explain what subject matter they most liked to photograph, as well as what film and medium they preferred. This was a traditional photography class where we used SLR cameras with film and developed ourselves in the darkroom. So, his requests were valid.
Even though we all knew these answers about each other, he needed to know more about our personal preferences and about us in general. It seemed he had ulterior motives to the class-wide interview session, but I had no desire to figure him out. At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
I became a bit antsy as I listened to each of my classmates speak, knowing full well it would be my turn soon, and I was not completely positive I would be able to speak to the man just yet. I needed to get control of myself. Show no fear.
Deep breaths, Julia.
To distract myself from the nerves that were taking over my body, I decided to let my mind wander.
One of the things I loved about college was th
e diverse people I got to work with every day. Not only diverse ethnicities, but also a rather large scale of different age groups. While most of my classmates were in their early to mid-twenties like me, there were the occasional few that decide to come back to college at a later age.
In that particular class, I had the pleasure of bonding with an older lady, Maddy. At the age of fifty-two, Maddy decided to take a few courses, just to broaden her horizons and learn a few new things. Maddy very quickly became a dear friend of mine, despite our thirty-year age difference.
Maddy sat to my right and I could tell she sensed my unease because she kept checking on me with sideways glances.
He was still too close.
I could hear each breath that pulled in and out of his full lips. I could hear each time he tapped his finger against his jaw. I could smell his scent—clean linen, cologne, and rugged man. I could feel his leg bouncing under the table as he propped his foot on the slats beneath the stool, his other foot planted securely on the linoleum floor.
It unnerved me to know a man’s presence had such a powerful effect over me—my body—my thoughts.
He paid close attention to each student as they went around the table, nodding and commenting appropriately to their speeches.
I felt him shift, turning slightly, as the next student, who was only a few seats away from me, began their introduction. My cheeks reddened with the knowledge he had to practically look through me to see my classmate who was speaking. There was no way I could sit there calmly while he stared in my direction.
In an attempt to get out of his line of sight, I shifted back in my stool marginally. Reacting to my movement, he brought his hand to my back as if he wanted to brace me and keep me put. As his fingers touched the small of my back, I felt an odd, exhilarating shiver run up my spine.
Such a feeling over a simple touch should not be possible. It was like a million tiny fireflies scalded my insides, leaving me breathless as his fingers grazed just above my ass.
He kept his hand on my back for a lingering moment before removing it and placing it flat on the black tabletop. My stomach was doing summersaults and I felt my pulse through my entire body. The voices around me were completely drowned out with the sound of the blood thumping through my ears.
Looking down at the table, I noticed his hand was shaking ever so slightly. There was no way I affected him that much. I didn’t want to have an effect on him. It must’ve been nerves on his first day teaching. It had to be.
As I was beginning to calm slightly, I noted Maddy was plowing through her introduction, which meant I was next. She flicked her silken, gray hair back behind her shoulder and looked at him as she continued explaining her skills.
My nausea came back and my pulse began to race again as Maddy finished up her speech. Speaking in front of people was always a bit of a challenge for me, but knowing I had to speak kindly to this man, who had bombarded my mind with a mixture of anger and lust, made my anxiety take over with a vengeance.
Steeling myself, I took a long, strengthening breath through my nose, begging my voice to cooperate long enough for me to muddle through. With a slight hesitation, I finally began my introduction to our new teacher.
“My name is Julia Petersen. I am majoring in fine arts with a focus on sculpture. I personally enjoy photographing black and white infrared landscapes on cotton rag, but occasionally enjoy the task of shooting infrared portraits in the studio as well.” I smiled, thankful I didn’t stutter, and looked down at my hands.
I could tell my parking-spot thief was a bit shocked with my choice of film because he just stared at me for a moment too long for comfort. I felt his gaze blazing through my skin. All the other students were silent as he sat there staring at me. He was so quick to respond to each student with constructive comments, yet here he sat, just staring at me like I had three heads.
Did he recognize me from the parking lot?
Eventually, I braved a glance in his direction and he seemed to be studying me before he began to speak.
“Julia, what do you find so enjoyable about working with black and white infrared?” My name rolled off his tongue and gave me a new set of chill bumps all over my already sensitive skin.
He steepled his fingers against his mouth and looked at me. His gray eyes were dancing with serious amusement—such a walking contradiction.
Because I sat there with stunned confusion on my face, he took a quick intake of breath, pulled his fingers away from his sexy lips, and continued, “I mean, the only reason I ask is because infrared is quite difficult to photograph properly and capture the full essence of the subject, not to mention the process of developing is a bit more tedious. Is it the challenge you enjoy, Juliana?”
My full name spilling from his lips caught me off guard. Heat pooled in my gut as I thought of all the possibilities and innuendoes that could be formed from his words.
His voice sounded so seductive, I had to do a double take at his expression. His gaze was smoldering, burning a deep hole through me.
And, damn it, I blushed.
“Uhm… well…” I stammered.
Shuffling noises from the other students as they gathered their things and began to stand interrupted me. I internally praised the time displayed on the clock, which saved me from my embarrassing stutter.
Then realization hit me…
I had another class with Mr. parking-spot thief right now.
Chapter 3
“The last thing I needed was a teacher blowing sunshine up my skirt so he could get into my pants.”
I felt each nerve-ending split as I watched my fellow classmates leave the room.
He didn’t attempt to get up or move as he explained to the class what he expected of them come Wednesday.
Maddy gave me a tight smile, knowing I had to stay behind, and quickly confirmed our scheduled weekly shoot for tomorrow before saying goodbye and leaving me in the dust.
My second class was a one-on-one Digital Photography session with Mr. Barnes. Only now, Mr. Barnes was not here to rescue me.
My handsome parking-spot thief just sat there, looking at me, probably still expecting me to answer his loaded question.
In all honesty, the question wasn’t what threw me for a loop. It was the sound of his voice, so silky and seductive, with a hint of humor, and my full name falling from his lips, like he’d known me for years. It was the look in his eye as he waited—gray eyes filled with hidden promises and a slight warning all rolled into one smoldering gaze. It was the fact that now, once the classroom cleared out completely, his body was even closer than before.
He repositioned himself so he was fully facing my left side, his long legs spread so they almost encompassed my stool. His left knee slightly brushed against my left leg while his right leg was positioned behind me.
Too close. Way too close.
“Do you have a class to get to, Juliana?” His question was almost a whisper and it made a shiver roll up my spine—not because I was cold, but because his breath on my face made a thousand sparks flicker through my skin, like sparklers on a hot summer night.
Didn’t he know I was his next class? He had to have known. He was probably just toying with me because I’m sure he could tell how I was reacting to him—how he made me feel. But then I remembered, my digital independent study class was really just a favor from Mr. Barnes and wasn’t actually a scheduled class. Damn. I really wanted to keep my schedule. I had to forcefully compose myself and explain.
“Um… actually, my next class used to be a personal session with Mr. Barnes. The Digital Photography class didn’t fill up, so they cancelled it. Mr. Barnes kept me on—sort of as his protégé. But it doesn’t count toward my credits, nor do I pay for it, so…”
So, what? What was I saying? I didn’t want to give up my Digital Photography lessons. I was learning so much about how to work the digital SLR camera and Mr. Barnes was impeccably schooled when it came to touching up and manipulating in Photoshop.
&nbs
p; But, was Mr. parking-spot-thief capable of continuing my lessons? I had no idea what his level of expertise was, so I just let my sentence trail off.
“I would be more than delighted to continue your one-on-one lessons, Julia. Mr. Barnes did not inform me of such an arrangement, but since I don’t have a class during this time slot anyway, you might as well continue to use me while I’m available.” An adorable smile worked its way onto his perfect face.
He wants me to use him?
I had to shake my head at the thoughts that crept into my mind. I was supposed to be mad at this man and here I was lusting over his every word—his every breath—his every touch.
“Thank you for your consideration.” I tried to sound polite as I stared into his gray eyes. In an attempt to sound confident, my words mistakenly came out harsh and cold instead.
Something shifted in his demeanor—like he was worried. Or maybe my tone made him realize just how inappropriate this chemistry between us was.
He backed away a little and it felt like he took all my air with him.
I couldn’t explain the feelings that were bombarding me. All I knew was, he was way too close before. Yet, when he backed away, I craved to pull him closer. My body begged for him while my mind scolded me for even feeling such a primal need for his touch.
He still sat next to me, but his knee no longer brushed against my thigh. One of his elbows was propped up on the black tabletop, while his other hand ran through his rugged, sandy hair.
“I probably should catch you up on what you missed due to your tardiness, Ms. Petersen.” His words were clipped, like he was irritated with something—or someone. He was probably irritated with me.
Switching to my last name told me he was trying to stay formal. But I noticed some sort of internal battle in his expression. Pain and confusion etched his face. I wanted to do something, say something, to make him feel better—to ease his pain—to wipe away any confusion and tell him it would all be okay.