Page 47 of Forbidden Professor

“Valentine?”

“The kitten? I’m assuming that toy is for her.”

“Yes, it is,” he admits, with a sheepish shrug. “Or, maybe the toy is just an excuse.”

“An excuse? For what?”

“To see you. To apologize for being so harsh.”

“Do you want to make it up to me?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest.

Part of me can’t believe he’s here. Part of me is desperate for him to stay. I’m terrified that if we talk about ‘us’, he’ll be out the door too fast for us to make any kind of progress.

“Uh, sure?” he asks, with a raised brow.

“Help me study?” I ask, with a sheepish grin, as I gesture towards the open textbook on my kitchen table. “I’m drowning.”

His smile widens and he nods. I swear I see a twinge of relief in his eyes.

“That I can do!” He announces.

“Coffee?” I offer.

“Yes, I’d love some.”

I set about pouring a cup for him. He strolls over to the couch and starts playing with Valentine. She loves her toy and takes to it immediately. After a few seconds, he heads over to the table and gazes down at the book before sitting down. If you’d told me fifteen minutes ago that Carter would be sitting in the morning sunlight I was just daydreaming in, I’d have laughed.

But I play it cool. I walk to the table with a steaming mug and place it down on the table in front of him like my heart is beating perfectly normal, not the crazy pitter pattering of dance of excitement that’s really occurring.

When I stand back up, I inhale the scent of him deeply.

Minty shampoo and some sort of sandalwood cologne. I remember it from before, when he was on top of me on his couch, his hands everywhere, his hair falling over my face as he kissed me….

The image threatens to throw off my casual demeanor, and I almost stumble over my feet.

I swallow hard, determined to remain nonchalant as I struggle to make it to my seat.

“So, tell me where you’re getting tripped up,” he says.

I laugh and shake my head.

“Everywhere?” I admit.

“I got you,” he says, his voice oozing like molasses on my sugar-starved brain. I actually believe him. Something inside of me opens up when he smiles at me, like he believes in me, like I could do anything, just because he believes in me.

I shake my head as we dive in, determined to focus. We go chapter by chapter, meticulously reviewing the covered information together.

Carter is patient. Kind. Communicative.

He’s a wonderful teacher. He goes slow, pays attention, listens.

He makes sure I truly understand before moving on to the next section. When I ask him to repeat himself over and over, he patiently does so without judgement.

I can’t help but look at his hands. Noticing the way his eyes flash with excitement as the knowledge he’s trying to pass on lights a bulb in my head. The way his lips form each and every word with such precise movement.

I try not to squirm as Carter explains the basics of cellular biology to me. I’m wetter than I’ve ever been by the time we’re done. I feel like we just made out for hours.

I bite my lip, looking over at him as he closes the book. My thoughts are swirling, my emotions are off the charts, and breathing seems to be impossible.

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