2. Rebecca

2

REBECCA

"I'd like you to take the following story into consideration." Professor Halstead pressed the button on the laser and pointed it at the wall, circling it around Romeo and Juliet .

I groaned low in the back of my throat. Seriously? This was what we were going to study? My pencil rolled back and forth across the desk under the friction from my palm. I risked a glance at the clock. Ten minutes left in class. Then I'd go see Professor Hottie Cole Taylor. My body reacted to nothing more than the hint of his name.

Students all around me scribbled or typed notes, their pace frantic. The sound of all those keys and pencil leads on paper created the kind of background noise I fell asleep to each and every night.

I yawned.

"Problem?" Professor Halstead's voice cracked whip-sharp.

The sudden silence brought my head up. I met his cold gaze with an indifferent one of my own. He'd started up the steps but stopped several rows below me.

My crossed legs ached from keeping them pulled so tightly together. I tried to ignore the sensation of butterflies taking flight in my stomach. "No problem."

"Are you sure? You seem to have a lack of interest in our current lesson." There it was again, that hint of a challenge that tore down all my insecurities and made my mouth fly off.

"Because it's not a lesson I need to learn." There was plenty I'd love to learn. I'd love to know how he managed to get his hair styled like that. I'd love to learn how to write a romance novel that had women drooling over the story and the characters. I'd love to know what it was like to be on Ethan's good side and have him look at me with respect instead of derision.

None of that mattered in light of the spark of annoyance that flared his nostrils and widened his pupils.

Wait. Wasn't that a sign of sexual attraction? Ooh, la-la. No. Stop it . I shoved that thought way, way down deep.

Shocked laughter mixed with gasps that died down when Professor Halstead remained quiet a few heartbeats too long for comfort.

"Explain." He barked the order at me.

The rudeness of it jolted me forward. I locked my hands together on top of the desk. "Romeo and Juliet is a classic. Sure. I'll give you that. But what is there to learn from it? She was a fourteen-year-old child who killed herself for love while not even knowing for sure whether Romeo loved her or she'd been nothing more than rebound sex."

Silence so absolute I heard my heart drumming in my ears and felt it all the way to my fingertips told me I'd gone too far. What happened to the quiet, insecure me who wanted to remain invisible? I'd shrink into my chair if it would help, but I'd started this and I'd be damned if I backed down now.

Some things were not to be tolerated, and touting this story as the greatest thing ever told was a tragedy I refused to support. I'd loved it once, but I'd grown up and discovered that love worth dying for rarely–if ever–made this a story worth writing lessons and essays about.

"See me after class." Professor Halstead turned on his heel and marched down the steps.

I released a shuddering breath and picked up my pencil, discreetly wiping sweat from my forehead.

Whispers drifted around me. No doubt they wondered at my stupidity and what punishment I'd receive for being a complete idiot by challenging the professor in his classroom in front of everyone.

For fuck's sake. I couldn't catch a break. If this was any indication of how my college years would progress, I might as well quit now and try to finish my novel instead.

Students stood and gathered up their computers. I slid my laptop into my bag and slung it over my shoulder, waiting for those around me to descend the steps. I'd likely miss my next class. Great. I could handle this. I lifted my chin and took several deep, cleansing breaths to clear my mind. Concentrate on the problem, not how hot Ethan looked in his gray slacks or how the hollow of his throat pulsed in the open collar of his white dress shirt.

"What's your name?" He sat on the corner of his desk, his feet planted on the floor and his arms crossed in an imposing manner that only made me pay more attention to his shoulders.

I gripped the handle of my bag in both hands, strangling it to keep from smoothing my skirt or playing with my hair. "Rebecca."

"Rebecca." He drew out each syllable in a series of long purrs that shot straight to my clit.

What the fuck was that about?

He crossed his ankles, and I swear he adjusted his pants. "You find Romeo and Juliet's story annoying?"

"I find it a misrepresentation of the romance genre. It's often heralded as the best romance of all time." I snorted and released my bag. I needed my hands for this. "Can we be honest and admit that it's really a tragedy masquerading as a romance?"

"You don't think being willing to die to prove your love is a worthy endeavor?" Amusement tinged his voice, and one side of his mouth hitched up in a smirk.

I pointed at him, my fingertip coming close enough to his arm that we both looked down. I kept it there, though my insides shook at the powerplay. This was not me. Nothing about this encounter was normal, so why? Why did I open my mouth and let all my thoughts spill out? "I would have found a way to live and been happy for at least a little while. I wouldn't have gone all ‘woe is me' and taken poison. No sex is that good."

"Really?" His eyebrows shot upward, and I very nearly died on the spot out of sheer mortification that I'd mentioned my own sex life in direct relation to my very hot, very off limits, professor. "That's a shame."

"I…" Wait. What? I took my time and lingered over his response. He watched me with a deep scrutiny that I should have found annoying, but coming from him, it set my body on fire and made me want to join him on the desk for a little extracurricular activity. "Don't you have another class?" I squeaked out the question and licked my dry lips.

He followed the movement, his eyes focusing on my mouth. "Not until later. This discussion is too important to miss." He unfolded his arms and straightened to his full height.

Electricity charged the air, raising the hair on my arms.

"You haven't lived until you've experienced mind-altering sex." The deep rumble in his voice almost undid me.

I leaned into the sound. "Then I guess I haven't lived." I shrugged, though I felt anything but nonchalant, and shifted closer. The move brought me close enough to see the bright flecks of gold in his irises and the soft stubble where he'd missed a spot shaving. Without thinking, I traced the tiny patch of hair with the pad of my finger.

His body stilled beneath my touch, and I snatched my hand back, my cheeks hotter than an active volcano.

"It really is too bad." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "It would be my pleasure to show you, but I'm afraid that's strictly forbidden."

"Too bad." I nodded in time to my heartbeat. "I'm sure you're an excellent professor on the subject."

"I am." He brushed a strand of hair off my shoulder, his thumb skimming the edge of my shirt where it met my neck. "And having you in my class is going to be torture. Knowing I've said all this and it can never leave this classroom, that it'll be nothing more than words, it's going to keep me awake tonight, thinking of you."

Confident bastard. What did it say about me that I found it hot? "I have to go." Turning away seemed impossible, but I forced my feet into action and walked out of the classroom. Holy freaking hell. Professor Halstead just admitted he'd like to have sex with me. Me! It would never happen. People like me didn't have sex with hot men like him. The knowledge curled my hands and quickened my steps. Relationships between professors and students were strictly off limits. I understood why. Didn't make me feel any better.

I fanned the heat from my face and rushed to my class with Professor Taylor. Concentration took considerable effort, especially as I faced another of the hottest professors I'd ever seen. By the time I finished my classes and made it to the coffee shop for my shift, I couldn't keep hold of a single thought.

Lily took one look at me and passed me a cold brew full of ice and mocha swirl. "What happened to you? You're all flushed and…" She waved a hand around her face. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you had sex."

I spluttered, spitting out the coffee across the counter and choking on my next breath. "Lily!"

"What?" She splayed her hands, then her eyes widened and she gasped. "Did you?"

"No." Snatching up a towel, I cleaned up the mess and left to get my apron. By the time I joined her behind the counter, she'd filled two customer orders and changed out the tip jar.

The empty shop gave us plenty of opportunity to talk. I considered telling her about Ethan, but saying it out loud risked making it all sound ridiculous. Maybe I'd misinterpreted the whole thing.

"Hey, Becca, watch this." She handed me a paper coffee cup. The whipped cream canister hissed and spit as Lily shook it and pointed it upside down at a coffee cup. "I'm going to start making pup cups for you to take home to Fitz."

"Fitz can't have whipped cream. It upsets his stomach." The words barely left my mouth before the canister gave an unholy groan and whipped cream splattered out in every direction. White bits flew through the air. Several landed on Lily's head, while even more hit the floor with steady plops that sounded like rainfall.

I laughed so hard my sides ached. Bent at the waist, hands on my knees, laughter poured out in rich bubbles until tears streamed. God love her. Lily always knew how to make a day better.

The door chime rang out as I bent to wipe up whipped cream from the floor. Upside down and sideways, I spotted a pair of muscular calves, athletic shorts, a sweaty T-shirt. My gaze traveled up and up, pulling my body straight as the broad shoulders came into view.

Lily whistled. The woman had no shame.

Once I saw his face, I realized why she'd been so quick in her appreciation. He had the face of a god, all sharp-lined and chiseled jaw that the scruffy beard did nothing to hide. Gray in his temples and a long sweep of hair over the crown of his head made him distinguished instead of frumpy.

"I'm looking for Rebecca." His deep voice filled the empty shop.

Lily nudged me with her elbow. "Lucky bitch."

"I'm Rebecca." I tried to smile, but the sight of my tiny Pomeranian in this guy's thick arms sent my pulse skittering out of control. "Fitz?" I looked from my dog to the man and back.

He held Fitz out in one hand, my dog perfectly content to let his feet dangle while the man supported his belly. "I found him wandering the neighborhood. When I called the number, it went to voicemail." He brought Fitz back to his chest and cradled him there when I didn't jump forward to take him. "I took him to the vet and had him scanned for a microchip. This address was listed on the computer."

It had been a crazy move, putting my work address on Fitz's microchip, but I didn't like the idea of a creep getting hold of him and finding out where I lived.

Lily's hands landed on my shoulders and pushed me forward. "She's grateful you brought him back."

"Um. Yeah." Unlike when I argued with Ethan, this man tied my tongue until I could barely speak.

Who was he?