Page 62 of Bad Professor

“I just wanted to make sure. But I could help make things better,” I offer.

Tilly rolls onto her side and straight into my arms, nestling her head on my chest. “You already make things better,” she says, her voice muffled.

“I’m really glad you went on that date,” I tell her, my arms tightening around her. “Although I would have checked you out anyway if I had seen in class.”

She chuckles. “Do you often check out girls in your classes?”

My heart stutters like it missed a gear. Dammit. “Only the sexy older ones,” I say lightly, kicking myself. Tilly is being open and honest with me and I hate that I’m not.

I’m just afraid she’s going to tell me to leave and not come back.

But would that be a bad thing?

Tilly pulls away. “Dexter?” It’s like she can read me, knows I’m keeping something from her.

How can she know? I press my lips against hers instead of answering, deepening the kiss and rolling her onto her back until we’re both out of breath. “I like you, Tilly Estes,” I tell her, pushing hair out of her face.

“I like you too, Professor Maclean.”

32

Tilly

Iwake up with a smile that sticks around all day.

Dexter is… I really like him.

Already, I like him so much more than I should.

Or maybe not. Maybe I like him just the right amount, the same as he likes me. Maybe we’re in sync and this will work out and I’ll get the happily ever after that I missed with Carlos.

But the divorce makes me leery of things working out so perfectly.

So far, so good, I tell myself. It’s okay to feel hopeful. He’s not Carlos; Dexter is the farthest away from Carlos that I could possibly find.

Maybe this will work.

Dexter leaves early to get home and change for his classes and I have an hour to myself to tidy up our breakfast and the bedroom, and to shower and dress.

I can’t stop smiling as I pick out what I’m going to wear. It doesn’t help when I touch the headboard—the same place where I held on as Dexter made me come.

Twice.

I know men want sex, but I had no idea that there were men out there who focused so much on a woman’s pleasure. It’s as if Dexter is personally affronted if I don’t have multiple orgasms.

I like having multiple orgasms even more than Dexter likes giving them to me.

The late September day is sunny with a crispness to the air that hints of fall. Dexter and I missed out on weeks together, and for what?

The reasons seem hazy in the morning sunlight.

We are doing something wrong; a professor shouldn’t be dating his student, but it doesn’t seem all that bad this morning. As long as no one knows what’s going on, it will all be fine. Maybe happiness needs to come at a risk.

And if someone finds out, what’s the worst thing that can happen?

When I reach the classroom, I pause for a moment to remind myself not to be too familiar with Dexter. Keep it professional. Distant.

Do not run up to him and give him the kiss I want so much to give him.

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