Page 1 of Ms. Mosley

chapter one.

Prosper

“It’s been a whole week since I last saw you. Don’t play with me, son. You’re never too old to get your ass kicked. Come by the house so mama can lay eyes on you.”

As I maneuvered through the college building, I chuckled, listening to my voicemail. My T lady was something else. I made a mental note to get my ass over to her crib before she made good on her word. When the Queen issued a command, compliance was non-negotiable.

After locking my screen, I tucked my phone into my coat pocket and prepared to rush to my last class of the day. I was running about five minutes late due to talkin’ to my patna in the hallway. But when I rounded the corner, a familiar face halted me in my tracks.

It was my statistics professor, Ms. Mosley, just exiting the ladies' restroom. And as always, despite her polished appearance, she was disheveled. Her head was down, her nose buried in a tissue she had obviously grabbed in the restroom.

“You straight, Ms. Mosley?” I called out, making my presence known.

Startled, she looked up. “Prosper, hi. I... I am good.”

“It doesn’t look like it.” I narrowed my gaze at her bloodshot eyes. “Looks to me like you been crying.”

“Oh, no. Allergies.” She laughed nervously. “Just my allergies acting up this morning. That’s all.”

“You said that last month.” I pointed out.

One day last month, after she dismissed the class, I returned to ask a question about a homework assignment, only to find her in tears and the same excuse spilling from her lips.

“And I noticed this a few other times.”

“Other times?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded. “One time was when you were walking to your car in a black pantsuit. The time after that, you were passing through the lobby, wearing jeans and Red Bottom pumps. The red on the bottom of them muthafuckas matched your lipstick perfectly. I’ll never forget that shit.”

There were a few more times I’d noticed, but I wouldn’t dare mention those. Didn’t want to frighten her pretty ass with my stalking.

“I’m sure a well-educated woman like you knows that if your allergies are bothering you this much, it’s time to see a doctor for some medication.”

For a while, an awkward silence hung between us until she broke it, deflecting.

“You're late getting to class, Prosper.”

“I am. My apologies, beautiful.” I countered, maintaining steady eye contact. But she didn’t. She broke my gaze—always did. It was also something I peeped over time.

Taking a deep breath, Ms. Mosley smiled. However, I knew it was a façade, one she reserved for the classroom, pretending everything was fine when it was clear she was struggling beneath the surface.As much as I studied her through passing, I knew the real. A nigga was obsessed.

“Please get to class, Mr. Shakur. I already have everyone taking notes. By the time I get back, they should be done. But you won’t be if you keep standing here.”

We fell into silence once more, my gaze drifting over her figure, admiring the way her fitted pantsuit accentuated her small curves. I never made an effort to conceal my attraction to her. Shit had been impossible to do since I started her class.

Ms. Mosley cleared her throat, a cue for me to concentrate on what she deemed more important. Yet in my mind, nothing could overshadow her significance. I couldn’t care less about those notes right now. In fact, I was more so wondering how her pussy tasted. Still, I made sure to give her the respect she commanded… the respect she deserved. Reluctantly, I tore my gaze from her hips and looked her in the eye.

“I’ll give you a few more minutes to get there and prepare. These notes are important, and I wouldn’t want you to fall behind and fail my upcoming test. It plays a significant role in your overall grade.” She fixed me with a firm look.

I smirked, realizing she was pulling rank on me. “Will do, Ms. Mosley. Will do.” With that, I walked toward the elevator.

A few minutes later, I reached the classroom and quickly jotted down notes from the information on the board, which included key concepts. We were set to analyze data sets that could influence decision-making across various fields, from business to healthcare. This was especially crucial for me as I was aiming to change my lifestyle and elevate the clothing line I had started.

I made a promise to my grandmother on her deathbed to break the generational curse that seemed to afflict the men in the family. My promise to her was over two years ago. It took me a while to grieve after her passing. Plus, I had gotten into some trouble with the law. But once I was good, I got my shit together and found a manufacturing company.

Now, I was ready to take my vision to the next level. I planned to open a store, but first, I wanted to earn my degreeto acquire the knowledge necessary to run a business effectively. Using my street credibility to sell my merchandise and managing a retail store were two completely different realms. If shit went well, I would open more locations.

By the time Ms. Mosley arrived, I had finished my notes and was ready for her lecture. As I expected, she had used the time I had to jot down the notes to pull herself together. There was no sign of her earlier distress. She had pulled her hair into a high bun, reapplied her lipstick, and switched from her contacts to her eyeglasses, perched on the bridge of her nose. And I was mesmerized all over again.

---