Page 27 of Forbidden Professor

To prove it, she makes eye contact with the blond surfer in front of us and gives him a seductive smile. He turns around, looking intrigued.

“Hey, I’m Aaron…”

She winks at me and turns her attention to Aaron. “Hey, I’m Vi.”

I shake my head and grin, watching as they abandon the line without a word and walk down to the lawn to dance.

Vi makes it look so easy. I look around the crowd as I continue to wait in line, looking for someone else, anyone else, who might catch my interest enough to take my thoughts off the very forbidden Carter, but everyone looks the same to me. And none of them are right for me.

I give up that endeavor and order another drink when I reach the front of the line. After I pay for it, I say a little prayer of gratitude as I spot an empty seat at the end of the bar.

I carry my drink over and plop down on the stool. I’m perfectly content to let myself become increasingly buzzed while I people watch and silently lament the impossibility of the situation I’ve found myself in.

Not only can I not have Carter, I have absolutely no interest in anyone else. That’s a problem, in and of itself. I can only hope time and a steady stream of margaritas will help ease the painful yearning that seems to have taken up residence in the center of my heart.

My eyes trail around the crowd once more, in awe of the easy way people seem to interact with each other. My father kept me so sheltered, the concept of effortlessly mingling with strangers is foreign to me. I wish it wasn’t. I sit there, silently drinking and watching and cursing my father and his helicopter parenting that has left me so tied up and awkward.

The fact that one of the rare times I ever feel free and easy to be myself is with Carter only adds salt to the wound. I wonder what the odds of finding someone else exactly like Carter might be. I want to think there have to be a lot of Carters in the world, but something deep inside of my gut tells me that’s not true. Carter is special and unique. Nobody makes me feel the way he does. Just one look at him is enough to send me reeling and if there is a whole ocean of Carter’s out there, then why doesn’t anyone else make me feel that way?

My theory falls flat.

I sulk at the end of the bar and try to take stock of the characteristics that Carter possesses that makes me so drawn to him. Maybe I can’t find someone exactly like him, but close.

I think about his lips. I think about his big body, pressed against mine. I think about his dark hair. His eyes, this gorgeous deep amber that takes my breath away…

But the worst part about crushing on Carter? His brain is one of the most attractive things about him. I could listen to him drone on about science for hours. There's something about the sound of his voice that seems to have crawled inside of my head and never left.

There is so much about Carter that I just can’t shake.

But mainly, it is the way he makes me feel that attracts me the most. Nobody has ever had the same effect on me, leaving me shaking and breathless and feeling like I’d just run a fucking marathon after five minutes in his presence.

How can anyone ever replicate that?

I come to the conclusion that I am doomed to live this unsatisfying, yearning existence for the rest of my life and order another drink, ready to accept my miserable fate.

I vow to do my best to forget him every time he pops into my mind.

So, when he strolls through the door, pausing at the top of the stairs to take in the scene below, it feels like a dagger has gone straight through my heart. How am I supposed to forget about him, when he just shows up like I conjured him up with my thoughts? His gaze rolls over the dancing crowd on the lawn and then over to the bar.

His eyes crash into mine and suddenly he looks like a deer in headlights. I feel just as frozen as he looks. I swallow hard, smile tightly, lift my drink in greeting and tear my eyes away from his.

The feel of his lips on my mine burns in my brain.

I pretend I’m not watching, straining the limits of my peripheral vision as he descends the stairs, heads to the opposite end of the bar I’m sitting at and orders a drink. I can feel the heat of his gaze like sunlight on my skin but still, I don’t look. My gaze stays trained on my glass in front of me, not daring to lift my eyes, because I know if I do, I will melt into a pool of desire in front of all these strangers.

When he takes his drink and slides into a booth in the restaurant, I breathe a sigh of relief.

If he stays on his side of the room, and I stay on mine, what could go wrong? Maybe we could co-exist in this town together just fine. Maybe I can trick my mind into thinking that he’s just another dude, swimming in a huge pool of other dudes.

Maybe I can convince myself there’s nothing special about Carter. If I just try hard enough, maybe it’s possible to reprogram my brain. Maybe I can forget about the heat of his hand running over the curve of my hip… Maybe I can forget about the way his eyes curl up at the corners when he laughs… Maybe I can forget about the way my stomach flutters every time my name slides off his lips…

Maybe I can forget that his lips ever touched mine …

“Excuse me? Is this seat taken?”

A velvety baritone voice breaks through my trance. I look up and see a gorgeous, dark-haired guy smiling down at me, his hand on the chair next to me. I hadn’t even noticed the person sitting next to me had left. The man is breathtakingly handsome, even to my distracted eyes. His smile is brighter than the sun, and I blink a few times when he flashes it at me, patiently waiting for a response that I finally summon.

“Yes, of course!” I say.

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