Page 8 of Forbidden Hearts

“Other things?”

“Yeah,” she whispers. “Professor Alvarez kind of has a reputation with college girls. He gives them private tutoring, if you know what I mean. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

Private tutoring?

If what Isabella says is true, that will make my job easier.

Suddenly, Isabella straightens up and her bubbly face flushes.

“Good morning, everybody. Sorry I’m late,” a deep and powerful voice behind me says. The low timber bounces off my skin, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise.

The voice has a slight Spanish accent. Even though I haven’t heard Alonzo’s voice before, I instantly know it’s him.

I turn around and tilt my chin up to meet his eyes. In an instant, I am pulled in by his hypnotic aura. I had only caught a glimpse of him before when he was sitting in Jacob’s office, but now that he’s standing at his full length, I’m aware of his broad shoulders and his imposing height. He is wearing his signature suit, the same one he wore when he visited Jacob a few weeks ago.

His jawline is more pronounced now that I see him in full light. And another thing I hadn’t noticed before: the long, dark eyelashes that shadow his brown eyes. I have never seen a man with better eyelashes than mine before.

Alonzo explains he was late because he had a long night. He says a few other things, but a loud pulse overshadows his deepvoice in my ears. At first, I can’t tell where the sound is coming from. I look around, but nobody else seems to notice yet.

My face warms when I discover the source of the sound. The pulse in my ear is synchronized with my heartbeat. Alonzo is so handsome that I am simultaneously attracted to and terrified by him.

What did I get myself into?

Chapter 5

Alex

Alonzo’s eyes fall on me as I walk into the classroom.

Does he recognize me from Jacob’s club?

The classroom is tall and wide. The walls are lined with large cabinets and floating cupboards, some without doors, revealing bins of new and used art materials: brushes, paints, and towels stained with paint.

Workstations are scattered throughout the room. Each workstation has an easel on wheels and a stool. Thick sheets of white paper are already set up on the easels.

In my business classes, I usually sit in the middle or the back of the room because I don’t like to draw too much attention to myself from professors and classmates. I’m perfectly content with coasting with B’s so long as I learn the material.

But I’m not here to learn. I’m here to get Alonzo’s attention.

I walk past a few workstations and go to the one closest to the front desk, which I assume belongs to Alonzo. Isabella follows close behind me. She sits at the station next to mine, which doesn’t surprise me. She seems the type to sit at the frontand answer every question. Good for her for getting her money’s worth. College is expensive.

Looking over my shoulder at the students behind me makes me feel queasy. My crappy drawings will be visible to the entire class.

“Is everything okay?” Isabella whispers. She looks over at me with a concerned face.

“Yeah, I’m good. It’s a bit intimidating sitting all the way to the front. My art skills are basically nonexistent.”

“Don’t worry,” she says. “Yeah, there are snobby art students here who have drawn all their lives, but most art majors are pretty supportive of each other. Plus, I got your back.”

“Thanks,” I smile.

A few minutes later, the classroom door closes and Alonzo paces to his desk. The classroom quiets down. The only sounds we hear are his dress shoes on the floor, echoing throughout the tall room. As Alonzo strolls to his desk, a small part of me wishes he would turn and look in my direction for at least a nano-second.

He doesn’t.

This is my first art class in college, so I don’t know how the typical art professor dresses, but I’m confident it’snotlike Alonzo. He’s dressed like he’s on his way to a nightclub or somebody’s wedding.

He removes his suit jacket and folds it neatly on the desk. The top buttons of his button-up shirt are undone, revealing tan skin and a bit of ink.

---