The Temptation: A Professor Student Romance (Forbidden First Times Book 6)

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The Temptation: A Professor Student Romance (Forbidden First Times Book 6) Page 11

by Sofia T Summers


  And of course, thinking about Eden made me think of all the terrible things we’d done just a few short hours before. It hadn’t even been a full day since I’d fucked her, and I was already so conflicted and racked with anger that I felt sick. I vacillated between hating myself and hating temptation.

  Would this kind of thing only get worse as I grew older? Would I have to deal with students like Eden for the rest of my years as a professor, until I could fade into retirement and relative obscurity?

  I hated that thought. I almost hated it enough to resign my coveted tenure-track position on the spot and go overseas, teach at some stuffy boys’ school and deal only with men.

  That would be cowardly. I had already proven my cowardice by succumbing to the temptation I felt for Eden. I wasn’t a strong man. I’d been thinking with my cock and now, I needed to think with my brain.

  There was a knock at my door and before I could answer, it swung open. Gina was standing there, wearing a short dress with a white sweater underneath. It was snug and fitting and showed her figure – she looked almost more like a grad student than a professor – and she cocked her head to the side and smiled at me.

  “Ready for the meeting?”

  I shrugged. “I was going to skip it,” I said, not even realizing until that moment that I’d been leaning so heavily in that direction. Skipping a meeting like that was hugely unprofessional – especially since I’d need the approval of the department head when it came to my vote for tenure – but I was so wrung out.

  I didn’t just need to skip the damned meeting.

  I needed a vacation.

  “Really?” Gina asked. She stepped closer and chuckled. “Are you still sick? I could cover for you,” she offered, like we were teens planning to skip school.

  “No,” I said firmly. “Thanks, though.”

  She smiled. “Good,” Gina said. “Because I’d go crazy if my best buddy wasn’t there with me,” she added. “I can’t get through one of those things without like, wanting to doze off.”

  “Yes,” I said tersely. “They can be boring.”

  Gina’s smile faded slowly. “Well, we should get a move on,” she said. “I want to get there before the last of the catering disappears. I remember when I told the admin that I didn’t eat meat so she started ordering three vegetarian sandwiches, and then I’d have to fight with the guys from IT just to make sure I got one.”

  I didn’t say anything, just rose to my feet and took my portfolio from my desk. After locking up my office door, Gina and I strolled down the hall and went into the stairwell where we climbed to the third floor.

  “So, notice anything different?” Gina asked as we made our way into the conference room. When I didn’t answer, she tilted her face from one side to the other.

  “I got my hair cut,” she said after a few seconds of silence, clearly annoyed that I hadn’t picked up on it.

  “Oh,” I told her. “It looks nice.”

  “Doesn’t it?” Gina said, beaming once again. She fluffed the ends of her hair with both hands and cocked her head to the side. “I never thought that curly hair looked good on me, but I did so much damage with heat styling, and ...”

  She kept talking, but I tuned her out as the other members of the English and Communication Arts department filtered into the room and took their seats. Gina didn’t even stop talking when the department head came into the room – she just lowered her voice and kept monologuing until I nudged her.

  “Hey,” I hissed. “Be quiet.”

  Gina gave me a stony look. I ignored her and turned my attention to the department head as he opened the meeting with a dad joke about the budget for the following fiscal year.

  It was strange – most of the time, these meetings were so boring that I felt like putting a gun to my head and playing Russian roulette if only to get out of them. But today I found myself strangely focused. Numbers had never been so interesting, and it didn’t occur to me until the meeting was mostly over that I was only so invested because it was a topic that had nothing to do with Eden.

  At the end of the meeting, Gina cleared her throat.

  “I was thinking,” she said. “The Wagner Annual Conference is coming up – it’s in Miami this year,” she added, throwing me a look. “Will and I might like to go.”

  The department head nodded. “That sounds fine to me,” he said. “Just plan to submit your receipts for reimbursement and copy me on all the booking details. I can have the department admin take care of it.”

  It took me a moment to realize that everyone in the room was staring at me. Damnit, -- I loathed Gina for putting me on the spot like that!

  “We’ll have to see,” I said, clearing my throat. “I have a particularly busy semester and a lot of demanding seniors at the moment.”

  A collective chuckle rippled through the room as the other faculty members began moaning and groaning about their students. Relieved, I turned my attention to the window, where the last of the daylight was fading.

  The sun was sinking low in the sky by the time the department head released us. Gina turned to me, having clearly gotten over her earlier annoyance.

  “So,” Gina said, turning to me. “You wanna grab a drink or something, talk about plans for that Wagner conference?”

  “I’m not sure I can make it,” I said.

  “Will, come on,” she said. “If you’re shy about spending university money because of your pending tenure, don’t be. They want you to go places and spread the reputation of Oakbrook,” she said. “And Miami! Doesn’t that sound fun?”

  Maybe, I thought. But not with you. In that moment, I couldn’t help but picture Eden – frolicking around on the beach in a bikini three sizes too small, her tits bouncing and shimmying and popping straight out of her top. We’d travel together – well, on separate flights as not to arouse suspicion – and I’d make sure that Eden took an Uber with tinted windows to the hotel, wore sunglasses and her hair tucked up in a little hat to conceal her identity.

  The idea of sneaking around with my favorite student was getting me so hot that my cock was hard, and I shifted my portfolio to the front of my body.

  “No,” I told Gina.

  “What? Why not,” she pouted. “You like, totally need a vacation.”

  I like, totally need to get away from you right now, I thought.

  “I have a migraine,” I lied. “I’m going to go home and lie down.”

  Turning away, I walked out of the building and ignored Gina’s frustrated calls.

  17

  Eden – Saturday

  As much as I was almost enjoying torturing myself with thoughts of Professor Will Marks and the intense, passionate sex that we’d shared, I knew it was time for a break. I still felt a pang of guilt at ditching Petra at Golden Wok the other night – especially because it wasn’t like I could be real with her and tell her what I’d done afterward, other than wander around in the cold.

  Weekends were the perfect time to catch up with friends, I reasoned that morning as I woke up. Even though I felt like staying in bed for several more hours, I got up and got dressed in pajama pants and my fluffy robe that I only used in cold weather. Petra was in the kitchen, making coffee.

  She didn’t look up when I walked in.

  “I owe you an apology,” I told her. “I’m really sorry about the other night.”

  Petra turned to me and frowned. “It was kind of shitty to ditch me like that,” she said. “You’d be having a canippy if I did the same thing to you.”

  “I know,” I admitted. “I really am sorry. It was shitty.”

  Petra nodded. “I’m not mad,” she said. “I was probably being really hard to be around.”

  “You were fine,” I told her. “I just had to get some fresh air. Sometimes the smell of fried food makes me so sick, you know?”

  Petra nodded again, but she didn’t look convinced.

  “Anyway, I was thinking that we could hang out,” I offered. “Today. You know – make it a
girls’ day.”

  “That sounds nice,” Petra said after a few seconds. “But, um, I told Evan it would be cool if he came over later. You don’t mind, do you?”

  That was fast, I thought of their break-up. But this was just like Petra – on and off relationships that lasted until they didn’t – and I shook my head. Hanging out with her surely-immature boyfriend was the last thing I felt like doing, but I reminded myself that this was all about repairing our friendship ... and if this was how Petra felt like doing it, then I was there.

  “Of course, I don’t mind,” I said. “I was actually just thinking how I need to get to know the guy dating my roommate.”

  Petra smiled widely and blushed, one of the only times I’d ever seen her do so.

  “I don’t know that we’re there yet,” she said, tossing her long blonde hair. “But we’re talking again, so that’s something.”

  “It’ll be fun,” I said, almost more for my benefit than hers.

  “I hope so. Want to help me clean?”

  I glanced around. The apartment, which was usually spotless, was cluttered and dusty. With yet another pang of guilt, I realized that I’d been completely slacking off: normally, I was the one who ran the Swiffer along the ceiling to get rid of dust bunnies and cobwebs, the one who vacuumed, the one who wiped down the counter-tops in the kitchen.

  “I mean, you always do it,” Petra said hurriedly, mistaking my guilt for reluctance. “I don’t mind doing it, just tell me how you’d do it.”

  “No, no, I’ll help,” I told her. “Really. I think it’ll help take my mind off things.”

  “Like what?” Petra frowned, and instantly I knew that I’d said the wrong thing.

  “Nothing,” I lied.

  “Eden,” Petra said. “What’s going on?” I didn’t answer and she looked at me with concern. “Did something happen? Are you still mad about that jerk at that party we went to?”

  I shook my head quickly. “No, not at all. I forgot all about him,” I replied.

  At least that wasn’t a lie.

  “Is it your grades?” Petra asked. She flushed. “Or is it Professor Hot—”

  “No,” I said sharply.

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “You don’t have to snap at me,” Petra said as we walked over to the kitchen closet. I took out the Swiffer and put on a clean sheet, then began rubbing it absentmindedly over the floor. I should have been grossed out – almost immediately, huge chunks of grey dust clung to the material – but instead I stared down at the floor, wondering just how absent my brain had been for weeks.

  I’d been obsessing over Will so much that I’d neglected basic things, like cooking and cleaning. In fact, the last time I’d had a hot meal had been at Golden Wok.

  I knew I was falling in love with him – but I was going to have to step back and take some time for myself, make sure that I was getting things done that needed doing.

  And as much as I didn’t want to keep lying to my roommate, I knew that sooner or later I was going to have to tell her something. The only problem with that was that I’d have to worry about the lies spiraling out of control. I couldn’t tell her that we’d had a falling out or that he’d embarrassed me in class or anything like that – she’d sympathize and then no doubt suggest writing a nasty Facebook post, when the last thing I needed to do right now was draw attention to myself.

  “Did he do something rude?” Petra asked finally. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me, Eden. But ... this feels kind of weird. Are we keeping secrets? We never keep secrets,” she continued, her blue eyes wide and open with earnestness. “That’s not something best friends do.”

  I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling sick. “I’ll be right back,” I said as I pushed the handle of the Swiffer into her waiting hands and excused myself to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, I leaned over and pressed my face into my naked thighs. Nausea rumbled inside of my belly and I wished that I hadn’t accepted a cup of coffee from Petra on an empty stomach.

  I felt like shit. It hadn’t even been a solid forty-eight hours since Will and I had slept together – if more time had elapsed, I felt so crummy that I would have assumed accidental pregnancy. As it was, I was on the Pill – but honestly, I forgot to take them just as often as I remembered. I’ll have to be better about that, I vowed as I took a deep breath and sat up.

  I’m an adult now.

  I have to be responsible.

  When I got out of the bathroom, Petra was using a wet Swiffer over the floors. She turned to me and gave me a small smile.

  “I’m really sorry, Ede,” she said. “I think I’m just anxious.”

  “About what?” I asked. Carefully picking my way across the wet floor, I hopped onto the bar stool and turned to face her.

  She sighed. “I think it’s just because of everything. The drama of being with Evan and then breaking up and getting back together, and being a senior, and feeling so freaked out about the future – like I have no idea what to do, you know?” Before I could answer, she kept going: “And like, now we’re fighting and everything feels so strange and weird, and I’m totally taking all of my stress out on you, and that’s not fair.”

  I couldn’t believe it – Petra was taking the blame for our lapse in friendship. I should have corrected her – god knows I felt guilty enough to do so – but I didn’t. Maybe it was possible that both of us were at fault. Maybe we were both so distracted by school and our love lives that this was totally normal, or something like that.

  While it was hard for me to picture anyone else as infatuated with someone as I was with Will Marks, I knew it had to be possible, or else the human race would have died out. Was Petra dealing with the same kind of confusion and arousal on a constant basis that I was?

  “It’s okay,” I said slowly. “I think we’ve both been really distracted.”

  She nodded.

  “You sure you don’t want to cancel on Evan?” I asked playfully. “Have a girls’ night like we used to do in the dorms?”

  Petra laughed once, but an almost sad smile came over her face. “Those days feel like so long ago,” she said. “I mean, it was years ago – but it feels so strange now.”

  “Mn.” It was all I could say. I still felt that weird blend of nostalgia and excitement and sadness all at once, and I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever get over it.

  By the time the apartment was clean, it was mid-afternoon. Petra and I ordered pizzas for dinner and put on 13 Going On 30 as we waited for Evan to show up. He was late – “he always is!” Petra said defensively – and by the time he arrived, the movie was almost over and we were on our second bottle of wine.

  Evan wasn’t much like I’d expected. While he had the charming frat-boy looks of golden blonde hair and green eyes, he was smart, even funny. The three of us sat around and talked as Petra poured more wine and served up pizza from cardboard boxes. The realization that I’d assumed Evan would be an idiot was yet another thing that made me feel guilty, almost as if I’d underestimated my roommate and her intelligence and the ability to choose a guy who wasn’t a total douchebag.

  It also made me wonder – just how much of my own beliefs had I been projecting on to others, even people like Petra, my supposed best friend?

  Maybe I’m not as different from everyone else as I always thought – the realization hit me when I was curled up on the couch, watching Petra and Evan flirt with each other.

  Somehow, it was humbling.

  But along with that thought came another one. If I wasn’t that different from my peers – and clearly, I wasn’t – where did that put me when it came to Professor Will Marks and our relationship? When I had been at his house before, most of my attention had been on him, of course. Still, there had been a lot of things I’d noticed that seemed to put a gulf between us, wider than I could have ever imagined. I’d been so thrilled to move into my apartment with Petra – we’d saved up all of our money the summer after our junior year and gone to IKEA, happily plunking down our deb
it cards for plates and knives and potted plants.

  Professor Marks’ house hadn’t looked anything like my apartment. His luxe, leather furniture had stood out to me (and that blanket! I could still feel it brushing against my skin!). He’d had antique books on wooden shelves that had looked like they’d cost a fortune. Stickley lamps and a huge, expensive-looking flat screen TV mounted on the wall with no cords showing.

  He was an adult, a real adult. A man.

  And no matter how mature I had thought myself to be, it was clear that a lifetime of experience lay between us.

  I wondered if I’d ever be able to overcome it. Would graduating make me feel like an adult? What about getting a job, or even thinking about grad school – something I’d begun to contemplate lately?

  I’d never felt like such a kid before. Now, being involved with a man, I was starting to wonder if I wasn’t getting in over my head.

  It made me think back to what Professor Marks had said, the day I’d asked him why he had chosen to be a professor. He’d given me some canned reply about how he’d wanted to stay in a bubble forever and not have to deal with the real world.

  Maybe, just maybe, I was the exact same way.

  18

  Will – Sunday

  I spent all of Saturday lost in my office at home, poring over books that I hadn’t looked over since graduate school. Back when I had been an undergrad and even at the beginning of grad school, I’d thought that I had wanted to specialize in medieval literature – I’d even taken Old English and Latin as my languages and committed Beowulf to memory, just to impress my advisor.

  In the end, though, I’d been drawn to the modern classics. They had shaped my life in countless ways that I couldn’t even begin to explain, and reading Modernism had always made me feel less alone in the world. It was a movement of isolated, troubled protagonists and the upheaval of social mores.

 

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