Page 27 of Teach Me

“I, uh, can give you a few minutes,” I choked out, but Owen threw me a dark look.

“I had my fucking six year old in my bed all night. Give a single dad a break, huh?”

That bold, sexually hungry monster inside me started inventing images of me crawling under the desk to finish off the job, but I clamped those thoughts down and shoved them away because…I wasn’t that kind of girl.

Nope.

No, sir.

I ducked my head and went right to the papers while Owen zipped up as inconspicuously as he could.

Neither of us spoke, just sat in the thick and awkward silence until it was time for his last class of the day to start.

Owen didn’t even say anything, just packed up his suitcase and headed for the door.

I stacked my own papers, though I wasn't allowed to bring them home like Owen did, then stood to leave. He was holding the door open, not looking at me, but still thinking of me like he always proved he did with little gestures like that. Or, heck, maybe he was just holding the door open so he could lock it when I was out?

“I should apologize,” he started as I went past him into the hallway.

“No. I should have knocked. I’m sorry about that.”

He blew out a long breath and slowly closed the door, locking it once it clicked shut.

“I honestly lost track of time. It won’t happen again.”

I finally raised my eyes to his just to find him already looking at me. There was spitfire in his eyes, burning those caramel irises right up.

My mouth opened to say something, to acknowledge the look on his face telling me he wanted something I couldn’t give him, but he started ahead of me and started walking away, cutting off the moment before I could even say anything.

So, I didn't. I said nothing and followed him to the next class where I swooned for a full hour over the brilliance that came out of his mouth to the students that looked half bored and half lost to their own thoughts.

When class let out, Owen called out, “Ms. Grey, I’d like to speak with you for a moment.”

I saw a girl's head pop up and look toward Owen.

“I’ve got a class to go to,” she said weakly.

“That’s fine. It won’t take long.”

The girl brushed some of her blonde hair out of her face as she slowly made her way down to speak to Owen. If I had any question as to whether she was guilty, that doubt was gone after watching her for less than a minute.

“I’d like to set up a meeting where we can discuss your last paper,” Owen said, down to business immediately. “It must be this week.”

She stuttered, her face bursting into a blush.

“Oh, yeah, um… My last class on Friday is two o’clock.”

“Good. I’ll see you right here at five minutes past two.”

“Uh, ok,” she agreed quickly.

“Good. We’ll discuss your paper on Friday,” Owen said, turning away from her to dismiss the girl who looked freaking mortified.

She ran back up the aisle and out the door like her rear was on fire.

The room was silent after that, just the soft thud of the door as it closed behind the girl. One question took over my mind, though. Bolstered by Owen’s response to ‘ask away’, I did just that and hoped he’d answer.

“Owen,” I said softly, his name soft and intimate on my tongue somehow, which gave me shivers when I uttered it.

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