Page 48 of Forbidden Hearts

“Lead the way, Professor,” I say.

He drives us to a small stake house near the university. When we park, I hesitate to get out of the car. The restaurant is so close to the university that students and staff eat here all the time. And I don’t know how I feel about being seen with Alonzo in public, especially after all the rumors that circulated on campus this morning.

Friday’s party had been primarily a party for art majors, but many of those in attendance were not art majors. Not to mention that students always intermingle with each other regardless of their major. By noon, the rumors had reached students in my business classes!

I only heard one student mention Alonzo by name. Everybody else only spoke of a mysterious professor who had shown up at a college party and beaten up a student. Another rumor was that a college girl had been assaulted.

By the end of the day, these rumors merged like a bad telephone game, with some students saying that the professor was the one who assaulted the girl. Others correctly stated the professorsavedthe girl. I’m lucky art majors don’t know me, so my name wasn’t brought up in the whirlpool of gossip.

“Are you sure you want to eat here?” I ask Alonzo.

“The food is good,” he says. “You don’t like stake?”

“I do, but it’s not that. Students are gossiping about what happened Friday night. I don’t want them to figure out we’re the people they’re talking about,” I explain.

“Yeah, I’ve heard the gossip and fucked up rumors. But you don’t have to worry about that. Some of the other professors owe me favors. They’re quick to put out fires when my name comes up, which it has with a few students. But none heard anything about you.”

“Still,” I say. “If there are students in there, they might put two and two together.”

“That’s okay. We can avoid public places until the gossip settles down a bit. We can head straight to my place instead.”

A warm feeling settles between my legs as I think about his home and what we will do there. Anticipation courses through my legs and inner thighs.

“You’re not hungry?” I ask. “You’ve worked all day.”

“I’ll cook something up,” he says, putting the car in reverse and exiting into the street.

A few minutes later, we’re driving down an isolated road that leads out of town. The sun is dipping over the horizon, darkening the road and the surrounding wilderness.

“Why do you live out here?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t take offense. I’m just curious why he chose to live all the way out here.

“I like it here. It’s quiet, and I don’t have to worry about all the traffic during football season.”

The university football stadium is in the middle of town. On game nights, the entire area becomes congested with foot traffic and cars trying to get into the stadium parking lot.

“Isn’t it scary at night?”

“Nope.”

Of course not. If something is hiding in the dark, it’s probably afraid of Alonzo, not the other way around. Even though he’s been a professor for a few years, I’m sure he still has all those skills he acquired during his enforcer days.

Clearly, he still works out and keeps himself in shape, I think to myself, remembering his tatted arms and his hard, muscular chest.

Eventually, we pull into a small road and arrive at his property. His home is a dark cabin that sits at the end of a long driveway. An iron fence with brick columns separates the property from the surrounding woods.

The cabin and surrounding property are beautiful, but it’s not where I expected Alonzo to live. He has money and owns many businesses, so I would expect him to live in some type of mansion in the fancy part of town. Plus, he doesn’t look the cozy type at all.

As we park in his driveway, I take in the size of the property. It’s large, with ample space for three or four other cabins and a few more cars. He already has a carport area with three fancy sports cars, but he could probably use the space a bit more.

Inside, the furniture is modern, with sleek and shiny surfaces. The cabin logs are mostly hidden by white walls, except for a few spots in the living room, where the dark logs accent the space. The modern, minimalist style inside the cabin is more in line with what a man like Alonzo might like.

I was here two days ago, but I was confused and tired, so I’m truly seeing this place for the first time now. It’s not a small cabin like you might get in an Airbnb or a glamping site. The cabin is big, with probably four or five bedrooms.

“You live here alone?” I ask. Everything is neat and clean. Either he spends a lot of time cleaning, or he has help. Or maybe he spends most of his time elsewhere.

“It’s just me,” he says. “The only people who come here are the cleaners. They come twice a week.”

“Let me guess, you have cooks, too? Maybe somebody to change your bib?” I tease with a grin.

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