Page 18 of Hello Kitten

A sigh leaves me as I realize he just grades easily. Maybe I’ll start making mistakes just to make sure that he’s not going to be nice to me because of our past.

Beth heads to her own class while I duck into the bathroom, glance around, then pull out my essay. I flip to the back page, noting that he did actually correct some issues and leave comments, then I read the post it note.

I’m coming.

If you want to discuss further, you know when my office hours are.

Ripping off the post-it note, I flush it down the toilet, frustrated and bothered. I take a few deep breaths, then focus on the comments on my paper.

The red ink is damning.

I know you can do better. Don’t dumb yourself down to prove a point.

“Fucking ass,” I mutter.

Beth is right. If I end up alone with Adrian, we’re going to end up having sex. I’m sure of it. I know I shouldn’t even play around with the thought that we can avoid it. Not when he’s still calling mekitten. Not when I can’t stop thinking about him.

I storm out of the bathroom, still deep in my own thoughts as I stumble against someone. Strong hands grip my shoulders as I grunt. “Ms. Turner.”

I follow the voice and meet his piercing green gaze. “Dr. Hayes,” I whisper.

“Anything wrong? You look pale.”

“No, no. I’m fine,” I insist and peel away from him.

“Are you?” His stare won’t leave me as my cheeks heat.

“Yup. Nothing interesting to report, but I do have a question for you,” I sass as I cross my arms.

“Of course, I’m happy to help with anything, especially after seeing some of the errors in your essay,” he says, motioning to his office.

“We don’t need to go there,” I mumble as I shift on my feet.

There’s barely any restraint in there. I’m sure if I touched him, moved closer, did anything, he’d lose control right here and haul me to his office for a whole lot more than talking.

Shit, no.No, stay focused, Emily.

“I’m worried I’m repeating words too often. So, can you tell me some synonyms for ‘no’,” I ask, cocking my head at him.

He arches one eyebrow and rubs his jaw, flashing some of the tattoos curling over his dark skin. He scoffs out a laugh. “Is that what you need synonyms for?”

“Just in case someone didn’t understand the word ‘no’ or ‘not invited’,” I hint.

“That depends,” he murmurs. “What’s the context?”

“Me saying “you’re not invited” for example,” I say seriously. “I thought it was pretty clear, but logic didn’t get through, so I have to make sure to try every option.”

“Bribery?”

How does he make one word sound so naughty? His green eyes are darker, more focused, and his glasses just make his gaze more intense.

“Logic doesn’t work,” I huff.

“Think less about logic and more about desire and how things willactuallyplay out. Feel free to write me an essay about that andslipit under my door,” he says, then walks away.

Well, Beth I tried. I tried thoroughly. I was determined, but obviously fate has other plans in mind. And who can argue with fate? I’m definitely tired of trying to resist what I want, no matter how wrong it is to want my professor the way I do.

nine

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