Page 65 of Distorted Obsession

I’m so focused that I don’t realize I still haven’t moved.

Sighing, Dr. Robison commands, “Any time today, Mr. Bradley. I want to continue with my lecture.”

I apologize again and accept defeat, rushing to the two empty seats that Eva and I typically occupy. Then, I pull out my laptop and begin to jot down notes.

“Sexuality, like race, is a social construct. The term itself was not introduced into society until 1879,” Dr. Robinson explains. “Throughout much of history, the evolution of sex can be viewed through three models—religious, biological, and social. This?—”

The professor is cut off when the door creaks open. Someone is trying to be subtle, but the groaning of the wood is making it quite difficult.

“What is it today?” Dr. Robinson asks, eyeing the entryway. “Come in already.”

Eva steps inside, her face blooming red. “I’m s?—”

“I’m sure you are,” Dr. Robison rushes, cutting her off. “Please just take your seat so I may continue.”

Nodding, Eva skitters across the room and slides into the desk beside me. She looks like she hasn’t slept a wink in days. Her hair is tossed into a messy bun, her eyes are puffy, and her clothes are wrinkled.

Concern whirs in my gut.Is she not sleeping well?

“I was hoping that as college students, I would be able to treat you as adults who understand the importance of decorum,” Dr. Robinson exclaims, striding from behind the lectern to stand at the front of the class. “We’re only a few weeks into this course, and I already have to give you all the speech about respect for a person’s time.”

Eva cringes at the rebuke, shrinking into her seat, and I want to roar. I don’t like seeing her this way. I don’t like that someone has her recoiling into herself.

Ignoring the professor’s droning, I lean over and whisper, “I think this is more for me than you.”

Eva’s face scrunches. “I’m sure my tardiness has earned us this reprimand,” she mumbles.

I internally fist pump, thankful to Dr. Robinson for giving me the in to speak to Eva. “I believe my barging into class late began this,” I confess. “And you happened to be caught up in the fallout. So, for that, I’m sorry.”

“Then it looks like we’re both at fault,” she jokes, offering me a little of her gorgeous smile. Her dimples, even though subtle, appear, and I can’t help but gaze in awe. And I want nothing more than to be the reason that look never leaves her face.

“I guess so,” I murmur. “About the other day.”

Shaking her head, Eva responds, “You already apologized. As long as you keep your hands to yourself, we’re good.”

My shoulders sag in relief. I came prepared to beg if necessary. “Really?” I ask, happy but shocked at her response.

“Really,” she confirms, sitting up in her chair and grabbing her laptop.

I open my mouth to speak when the professor’s voice cuts into our bubble. “If it’s okay with you all, I would prefer never to have to give this speech again. You’re all legal adults in this room. Please behave as such.”

Class continues, but I keep stealing glances at Eva. She’s immersed, like I should be, in whatever is being covered today. However, I can’t focus. Everything else seems trivial compared to my budding feelings for her.

Eva Pierce has enticed me, and I’m unwilling to let her go. Images of our time together at the start of the semester replay inmy mind. I remember the way her body naturally yielded to me and how willingly she followed my commands.

Focus asshole.

Pushing my lustful thoughts away, I return my attention to the lecture in time to hear the professor state, “With purity culture came the backlash of sexual freedoms. The idea that only a virginal woman holds value in society still runs rampant throughout many cultures to the extent that public stoning is still deemed an acceptable form of punishment for a‘wayward woman.’”

Dr. Robinson’s words resonate. As my younger sister prepares to begin her introduction to society, conversations with our grandmother have revealed that we, as her brothers, can sow our royal oats, but she doesn’t have the freedom.

Our mother, in no uncertain terms, told her that’s bullshit behind closed doors. She’d never reveal that in the presence of our Nana.

Stupid as fuck double standards.

Thirty minutes elapse when my phone buzzes, but I ignore it. Anyone calling will have to wait. If I answer it now, I’m sure Dr. Robinson will kick me out of class.

“Your first assignment is due in two weeks,” Dr. Robinson instructs, snapping me from my idle mind. “I want you to write a paper on how binary thinking has impacted modern views on sexuality.”

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