Page 17 of Lunar Crest University

She huffs quietly as she stomps toward her desk, plopping down and dropping her bag to the floor. The sight nearly makes me laugh, but I press my lips together as I struggle to keep my amusement at bay. As I watch her, I push up from my chair and clear my throat to draw everyone’s attention before their eyes fall on her dramatics.

“If anyone else has any last-minute forms, I need them before we start,” I instruct.

It doesn’t surprise me much when Genevieve raises her hand, reaching down with her other to pull a form from her expensive handbag. Approaching her desk, I try to keep from rolling my eyes as she bats her eyelashes up at me, per usual.

She’s not the person Iwantto look at me like that.

“Here you go, Professor Serrano.”

I take the paper from her manicured fingers as I glance up at Finley, who isn’t paying me any attention at all. Instead, she glares down at the blonde with the intensity of a thousand suns, her jaw clenched tightly.

“Thank you, Ms. Pierce,” I praise, flashing her a smile out of spite, just to see Finley’s reaction.

Something to tell me I’m not making things up in my mind. That she’s affected by me just as pitifully as I am by her. It’s wrong, I know that, but I need to know if she can’t stop looking at me either. It could all be one big delusion, a clear sign I need to get my shit together, but it could also be the latter.

And the way her nostrils flare as she turns away, shooting daggers at the wall instead of the back of Genevieve’s head, tells me everything I need to know. The way her hands clench into fists beneath the desk, dangerously close to brushing her skirt up a little too high on her thighs, and the way her shoulders lift shakily with each deep breath she sucks in.

Stop fucking looking.

I want her to use every ounce of that frustration on me. With her hands, her lips, herteeth. I’ll take anything she gives me.

It’s a constant battle inside of my head every day. I’m smarter than this, andfuck, I swear I have more bearings than a sixteen-year-old boy, but her presence is a literal curse. My mind turns to complete mush when I look at her. How fucking juvenile.

“Why do people sin?”

As I ask, I write it out on the chalkboard as well, twisting around to face the class as I clasp my hands together. There is silence in response, so I relish a bit.

“There are two reasons inThe Divine Comedy,” I guide the question further, licking my lips. “What are they?”

“A lack of will.”

My eyes flicker up to Finley, who sits forward, elbows perched on her desk as her fingers intertwine in front of her. Her straight hair cascades down her blazer, not a strand out of place as she stares at me. Her gaze is the most intimidating it’s ever been. She’s undoubtedly heated. And if a heated discussion is what she wants, a heated discussion she’ll get.

“And?” I counter.

“An attractive veneer.”

My lips curl slightly at her cross tone, my tongue pressing against my cheek. “What are some examples of a lack of will? Anyone?”

Genevieve pipes in quickly. “Lack of self-control. Like setting an alarm and being unable to resist pressing the snooze button.”

Something stirs deep in my stomach as Finley slowly slides her tongue across the front of her teeth. If looks could kill, Ms. Pierce would be dead.

“Like pursuing someone you can’t have,” Finley adds.

Genevieve narrows her eyes over her shoulder as she glowers up at Finley, who doesn’t even flinch as she stares right back. Straightening her shoulders, Ms. Pierce turns to face forward again, wiping the vexation from her features as she smiles up at me.

I raise my eyebrows dubiously for a second before nodding as I continue to pace back and forth in front of my desk. “And what about an attractive veneer? Give me some examples.”

“Staying up late,” someone calls out.

“An affair,” Genevieve chimes in.

“A forbidden relationship.”

Finley’s eyes flicker from Genevieve up toward me as I perch on my desk. They linger on me for a moment, making my stomach feel like it’s doing goddamn gymnastics before looking down at her fingers. As other students sound off around the room, all I can hear are the faint echoes of voices. My ears ring as I continue to examine Ms. Dunaway.

My attractive veneer is her.

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