Page 9 of Whirlwind

Too good.

Goddammit, I definitely should not like it when she calls me that—most of my students call me that, if not all of them. I attempt a calming inhale and look into Finley’s eyes. She has her window down and her arm resting on the door as she looks back at me, upper lip twitching in amusement.

I shoot her a lopsided grin, one a professor, aka me, should once again not be giving his student.

“I’m coming.”

Chapter four

Finley

FALL SEMESTER—NINE MONTHS AGO

I smooth my handsover the front of my worn green sweatshirt, shifting nervously on my feet as I stare at the frosted glass window that reads: Ryker West, PhD.

Why did I wear this old sweatshirt today? My jeans aren’t much better. They have a rip in the thigh and are faded from years of wearing them. Couldn’t I have picked something nicer?

I internally scold myself as I hike my backpack up my shoulders. I shouldn’t be nervous nor should I care that I’m dressed like a normal college student to see my professor during his office hours. Iama normal college student.

But I can’t help it. He’stheRyker West. Extreme meteorologist and one of the best storm chasers in the world. The Twister Tamer. He’s the reason I decided to do my master’s at Midland Springs University. I wanted to learn from him—from the best. And so far, every lecture and minute I’ve spent in his presence has shown me that I made the right choice. He’s smart, funny, the kind of professor that makes students enjoy learning. He also makes weather easy to understand. Basically, he’s all the things I love about a teacher.

I blow out a breath and lift my fist, hovering it inches away from the door before I knock.Just because you have a schoolgirl crush on your professor doesn’t mean you can’t act like a normal person. Be cool.Your outfit is fine.

After another few moments of calming myself, I rap on the door three times and hear a throat clear. “Come in!”

I shiver at the warm resonance of Ryker’s voice and push open the door.

I expect him to be looking up from his desk when I walk in, but instead, he’s focused on his computer screen. There’s a window behind him, the late afternoon September sunlight backlighting his profile as he leans closer to look at whatever is on his screen. Butterflies multiply in my stomach as I stare at him, my fingers itching to run through his tapered rich brown hair with tiny flecks of gray in it.

No. No, Finley. You need to stop ogling your professor. You’re here to learn, remember?

Ryker mutters something under his breath, and I wonder what I should do. Should I say hi? Walk in and sit?

I take a step forward, and that breaks his concentration. He glances my way then puts his eyes back on his computer. My stomach falls, but then he sits straighter, green eyes snapping to mine and lips turning up at the corners.

“Finley.” He says my name with clear surprise. “Please, come in.” He waves at me with his hand, pointing to the chair in front of his desk.

The butterflies return, and I slip my backpack off my shoulder, setting it on the ground as I sit in the hard wooden chair. If I didn’t know any better, I would say he sounded excited to see me. But that would be silly.

Once I’m settled, I turn my eyes back to him and find there’s still a smile on his lips. His pale green eyes—which remind me of jades—are sparkling. I do everything in my power to keep from flushing, tucking a strand of loose hair behind my ear. His eyes track the movement as he leans back and rests his forearms on the arms of his chair. He’s got on a thin long-sleeved shirt, and it’s pushed up to his elbows so I can see his corded muscles.

Between his eyes watching me intently, his smile, and now his godforsaken forearms, I can’t stop my cheeks from turning red. I glance down at my lap quickly and will myself to stop being weird.

When I look up, Ryker smiles like he knows what I was thinking. But there’s no way he does, because I doubt he’d be smiling if he did. He’d probably tell me to get out.

“What can I do for you, Finley?”

His question along with my name does things to my insides, but before I can get out what I came here for, my eye catches the image of a tornado on his screen. It’s tilted away from me, but I can see enough of it to know what it is.

“Is that the Dead Man Walking tornado from last weekend?” The excitement in my voice is palpable as I scoot forward in my chair to try to see more of it.

“It is.”

I glance back at Ryker, and he’s grinning like a fool. “Wow. I can’t believe you saw it in person!”

Surprise lights his features. “You watched the chase?”

Busted. My body heats as my heart rate picks up, and I wish I could go bury my head in sand. “Yeah…” I manage to eke out. “Is that weird?”

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