Page 12 of Auctioned to the Professor

“I was starting to worry about you,” Jen says as she pads back to her room.

“Sorry,” I say, and my voice makes her turn back and inspect me harder.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

“Oh, Faye. Who…won you?

I pause, scared of admitting everything that happened to her. But Jen and I have never kept secrets. “It was Professor Simmons,” I choke out.

Jen’s jaw drops, not believing what I just said. Without saying another word, she wraps me into a hug. Jen always knows what I need, and I think she realizes the weight of everything that has happened to me over the last few days even more than I do.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jen asks. I think about it for a moment and tell her no, that I think I would feel better if I just got a few hours of sleep.

With another hug and a nod, she leaves me alone. Alone with thoughts I don’t want to have and memories that are already starting to be painful. It will be impossible to go back to sleep, I have no classes since it’s Saturday, and my shift at the coffee shop is hours away. I decide to distract myself with my new bank balance, but not even the unimaginably huge number on the screen can lift my spirits.

I need to start changing my life, doing the things I wanted with the money from the auction. I need distractions. I start searching real estate websites for a nicer place for Jen and me to move into.

Not even luxurious two-bedrooms or balconies with gorgeous city views can get my mind off of Grady. His signed book is still on my bedside table, and the days where he was just my favorite author seem so long ago now. Before tears can start falling, I hurry to get ready for work, and walk instead of taking the bus to eat up the extra time.

Anything to stop this ache in my chest.

I’m practically useless at work, getting lost in daydreams and having to ask customers to repeat themselves. My boss takes me off the register and tells me to stock the new shipment of sugar packets until it’s time for me to go. Even though I’m almost positive Grady won’t be there, my feet take me in the direction of campus instead of home.

I linger around in the courtyard outside his office building, then order a cup of soup at the cafeteria, still hoping for a glimpse of him. I should be starving but the hot, salty chicken noodle soup that I normally love tastes like cardboard and I can’t finish it. But still, I stay at my booth, staring at the door. I’ve never once seen Professor Simmons in the cafeteria, but my hope won’t let me leave.

A laughing couple comes in, their arms around each other as they get in line, and I’m jolted back to reality. That will never be Grady and me. How can it? He’s fifteen years older than me, a prestigious professor, and bestselling novelist. I’m a college sophomore whose main goal in life is traveling.

Well, now I have the means to do all the things I want, and here I am staring at cold soup and wallowing over a man who’s probably already forgotten all about me. Shaking myself back to my senses, I head home where I start planning my first trip.

I’m trying to decide between Italy or Peru, and poring over tour options when my phone buzzes and a message from an unknown number pops up on the screen.

Look out your window.

Probably someone I’ve met recently passing by and wanting to see if I’ll go out to a club or party. Normally I’d be up for something like that, but I’m engrossed in my travel research. I can admit to myself I’m in no mood for loud music and laughter when my heart is still aching.

I head to the window, wondering if I should tell Jen that someone is here before I look. She would probably tell me to live in the moment, so that’s what I do.

I have to blink a few times when I see Grady leaning against his car at the curb. His arms are crossed and he’s staring up at my window with a hopeful look on his handsome face, looking more sexy than he has any right to with dark stubble on his chiseled jaw.

“Grady?” I lean out the window. It’s really him.

He tips his head in a silent command to come down. I don’t have to go. I can close the blinds and get back on my computer. But of course, that’s not what I do. I hurry down the stairs, inexorably drawn to him. I calm myself in my building’s lobby, wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans and smoothing my hair. As soon as my heart rate is somewhat normal, I rush out the door.

His slow smile makes my heart start racing again. He’s like a magnet, and I’m nothing more than a hapless pile of steel shavings, I move closer. Thank god he doesn’t uncross his arms or else I would be tumbling into them.

“My offer still stands,” he says.

The rich sound of his voice cuts through me like a knife through butter, but the words cut deep. It’s a horrible mix, this yearning and pain, and tears spring to my eyes.

“I won’t take any more money from you,” I say, stepping back and shaking my head.

He pushes away from his car and moves toward me, his eyes stormy. “Why not?” he demands. He takes me by the arms, a firm but gentle touch that has me fighting not to melt against his chest. “You know you want me as much as I want you, Faye.”

I close my eyes, but it doesn’t help. I can still feel his heat and smell his spicy cologne. “I just can’t,” I say.

His hands grip a little tighter. “Tell me why.”

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