Kiss Me Like This
Page 9

 Bella Andre

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As several students chimed in, Serena worked to concentrate on the book they were studying. She’d had to fill out a special application for this class, where only fifteen students were lucky enough to study with the Newbery Medal-winning professor. But as the weeks went by, she sometimes found herself wishing for the anonymity of being one of four hundred students in a huge lecture hall, instead. A class where a professor couldn’t “accidentally” brush up against her, or stare at her boobs.
Vowing to wear her big, shapeless sweatshirt in class from now on, regardless of the heat in the room, she shifted slightly away from her professor and held her breath as she waited for him to dismiss them for the weekend.
Finally, he stepped away from her. “Good work, everyone.”
Serena immediately put on her sweatshirt and was quickly shoving her books and laptop into her bag when he added, “I’d appreciate it if I could have a few more minutes of your time, Serena.”
The sound of the door closing behind the rest of the students in her class felt like the locking of a prison door. Telling herself she was being overly melodramatic, she forced herself to relax her tense muscles. “What would you like to speak with me about, Professor Fairworth?”
He was smiling at her, but his pale blue eyes didn’t seem nearly as friendly as his smile should have suggested. Predatory. That was how it felt. As if he was imagining her without her clothes on...
“You’re a bright young woman, Serena.”
Trying not to betray her nerves, she said, “Thank you. I’m very passionate about literature.”
“Passionate,” he repeated in a low voice.
The word hung between them, and she inwardly cursed herself for saying exactly the wrong thing. For all she knew, he’d think she was trying to lead him on.
“What I mean,” she said, fumbling over her words now, “is that I really enjoy reading. Everything from classics to genre fiction to literary novels.”
“When I first received the class list and saw your name on the roster, I’ll admit I had my doubts. But your analysis is spot-on, your use of language is far beyond your years, and you have a knack for explaining your reasoning in a way that often helps the others better understand the material.”
Again, she thanked him, but where pleasure at his compliment should have been was only wariness about what he might be leading up to.
“As this is the first year I’ve taught such a select group of students, I have come to realize that I should make some changes, and quickly, so that everyone will get the most out of the course. How would you like to be my teaching assistant for the quarter?”
“I thought teaching assistants have already taken the classes they’re helping with?”
“Actually, it’s far better that you haven’t yet taken my class. What I’m proposing is that you and I work together a week or two ahead of the rest of the class. I will run my weekly plans by you and then you can let me know where I need to clarify or highlight certain aspects of my lectures and assignments.”
She should have jumped at the opportunity. It was all of her dreams come true to work with an academic of Julian Fairworth’s stature. But...he made her so uncomfortable.
Rationally, though, Serena knew that every guy in the world didn’t want to get in her pants, no matter how much her mother had raised her to believe that they did. And she’d be crazy to give up this opportunity when she needed his recommendation to the admissions department so that they would make her a permanent student after this quarter.
“I’d love to help you out in any way that I can.”
He returned her smile with another one of his own that she couldn’t quite bring herself to buy into, even though she wanted to. “Wonderful. I will email you several things tonight and if you’re able to get through them quickly, we could meet Monday afternoon a couple of hours before class begins.”
“Okay,” she said, belatedly adding, “Great!” just in case it sounded like she wasn’t as excited as she should be about helping him. And, really, with all the windows in this room looking out on the main Quad, it would be pretty difficult for him to actually try anything inappropriate with her. No doubt, she was worrying for nothing, letting her mother’s endless and crazy warnings poison her.
“I’m so pleased you’re amenable to my plan, Serena. I know we’re both going to get a great deal out of it. As there is another class in this room before ours, I’d like for you to come to my office for our meetings. In any case, given that all of my materials are already there, it makes the most sense to meet there.”
He hadn’t said or done anything inappropriate. Despite that, she could still barely stop a shiver at the thought of being alone with him in his office next Monday.
“Sure,” she made herself say, “that will work.”
Serena was just reaching for her bag to sling it over her shoulder when he held out his hand to shake on the deal. She willed hers not to tremble as she put it in his, but when he closed his fingers around hers and somehow managed to tug her closer, she froze as renewed panic skittered up her spine. Unlike what she’d imagined most English professors would look like, he was fairly tall and muscular. And all she could think in the few moments that he held on to her hand was that if he wanted to overpower her, he could easily do it. Very easily.
During the course of her modeling career, she’d been in many high-pressure situations. But standing here alone with her professor on campus felt more stressful than all of them combined. Her mother’s hovering had often frustrated Serena—but at least Genevieve Britten knew precisely how to scare men away from her daughter.
No longer able to pretend to be comfortable, she said, “I need to get going.” She slipped her hand out of his and quickly grabbed her bag to hold it between them like a shield. “The dining hall closes soon and I’ve got to get all the way across campus before it does. I’ll look for your email and see you on Monday in your office. Thanks, ’bye.”
She didn’t manage a full breath until she’d made it down the long pathway to the corner of the Quad and onto the bike- and footpath between the buildings.
What had she just gotten herself into?
Because no matter how much she tried to tell herself that she was making something out of nothing—would Professor Fairworth really jeopardize his career at one of the most prestigious universities in the world just to try to get into her pants?—she couldn’t stop freaking out about it. Especially now that their private Monday meeting in his office was looming over her like a dark shadow.