by S. E. Law
I may feel ridiculous, but according to the gaze of the two guys looking at me right now, I look damn good. I’ll have to thank Jessica for the outfit.
“Anyway,” John continues, pulling my attention from my looks, “why don’t we discuss this paper? Like I said, it’s good.”
“Then why did I get a B?”
“Because it’s well-written, but it’s unfocused. Your idea could be stronger; you didn’t develop it far enough.”
“What do you mean? I spent hours revising it to tighten my thesis.”
“It needed to be tighter. You use ‘choice’ in a generic way. You don’t get specific enough about the choices Hester makes. Are you talking about her choice to get married in the first place? Her choice to see someone else when her husband is missing? Her lack of choice in wearing the letter?”
I slink down in my seat. Everything the professor is saying makes perfect sense. I did use generic terms to talk about the choices Hester made. Part of the problem is that I was talking about choices in general, not necessarily connecting it back to the book.
That explains why I got a B.
“Can I rewrite it?” I ask, leaning forward. Ideas are already flowing through my mind. A new thesis takes form. I steal a pen from John’s desk to write it down.
He puts a hand over mine. “Whoa, there. Take it easy. I see you going a million miles a minute right now.”
“I am. I want to write an A paper. I know this book like the back of my hand…”
“That much was clear from the quiz last week, Mari. You aced it. I know you understand the book.”
“Then let me rewrite my paper! I can prove I’m good enough…”
“A B is not a bad grade. In fact, if you keep up the good work you’ve shown me thus far, you’ll probably finish the class with an A.”
“I’d have a higher A if you let me do this paper again.”
“I can’t do that, Mari. I’m sorry, but you read the syllabus. No do-overs.”
“Please, John…”
He gives me a sad, sympathetic look. I fall back in the seat once again. This meeting had been going so well. Why did it have to take a turn for the worse? Can’t John help me out just this one time?
“You’re a talented writer, Mari,” Mark says. “You’ll do better on the next paper.”
“I want to do better on this one,” I pout.
John laughs. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help you, but if I give you the option to redo the paper, I’ll have to give that option to every student in class. And I don’t have the time to grade that many papers again.”
“I understand, I do. I just wish it were different…”
“Me, too,” John says. His hand finds mine again and squeezes. The gesture is so intimate that it sends butterflies soaring in my stomach. I want to pull away, but I don’t want to at the same time.
I like the contact.
I also like the attention he’s giving me. Mark, too. They’re both looking at me like they want to talk about something other than a paper.
I try to focus on anything but their intense gazes, but it’s impossible. The room feels like it’s a thousand degrees.
I slide my chair back, ready to make my escape, but John keeps his hold on my hand.
“We’re not done here yet,” he says, his voice a low rumble.
My chair stays where it is. If John says we’re not done, we’re not done. I’m happy to stay as long as he wants, as long as he keeps looking at me like I’m a snack and he’s starving.
To be continued …
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About the Author
Let go of your inhibitions because S.E. Law is about to take you for a wild ride with over-the-top alpha males who CLAIM their women. Fan of candy canes, popsicles, and anything rainbow.
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