Page 58 of The Professor
No more words are needed. She feels the same way I do and now I need to feel closer to her. Like getting that white dress covered in dirt while I show her exactly how I feel.
Chapter 25
Emma
The last fewweeks have been a whirlwind. Drake and I have gotten extremely close. I spend almost every night at his house. After the night at his party, we’ve just become this couple. In school we have to still continue to maintain a student/professor relationship and I don’t think anyone is the wiser.
I’ve never been this happy before. Even my wildest fantasies about him never included feeling this way. He’s slowly been opening up to me, telling me about his parents and stories of him growing up. I know he’s still holding back though. It’s amazing how when you study psychology you learn all these things, all the different ways people think or react. Yet, you wonder if you’ll ever use what you learn. Drake is the perfect example of someone who tries to hide all his shit. I’m smart enough to know that.
Over the last week or so I’ve been gently trying to get him to open up to me. I can see the conflict in his eyes. He wants to talk, but he always quickly stops himself. It breaks my heart and frustrates me. I hate that he’s struggling with something, but I think I hate it more that he won’t tell me what it is.
Professor Erickson dismisses us and it breaks me out of my thoughts. As I gather my things, he tells me he needs to speak with me. My heart begins to pound in my chest and my stomach starts to roll. I’m terrified he knows. I’m even more scared that he is about to question me about it. What if Drake told him something and I tell him something else? What if he hasn’t questioned Drake yet and I’m the one who verifies his suspicions? Fuck.
With my knees shaking, I walk up to his desk. “Yes, Professor Erickson?”
Leaning back in his chair with his hands folded, resting on his big belly, he gives a very small smile. “The Dean needs to talk to you.”
The Dean? Fuck. What’s the actual punishment for fucking your professor? Am I going to get kicked out of school? Will I lose everything I’ve worked my ass off for? Will he lose his job and reputation?
Trying to not pass out here and now, I grab onto the edge of his desk. Swallowing past the lump in my throat I force a smile. “When?”
“Right now. He’s waiting.”
Nodding my head is the only thing I can manage as I walk away. I don’t even have time to ask Drake what the fuck to do. I just need to go face it like a big girl. Although I grab my phone out of my pocket on the walk over and let my finger hover over Drake’s name. I want him to help me, but just as I’m about to hit it, I hear my name.
Snapping my head up I see the Dean. Shit. “Dean Thomas, I was just coming to your office,” I say, feeling sick to my stomach.
Nodding his head toward the door, I follow him outside. Every scenario I can conceive plays out in my head. It’s the first time since Drake and I have been together that I’ve come face to face with the consequences...or so I thought.
“I wanted to tell you that the Bryson situation has been taken care of,” he says, crossing his arms.
Relief washes over my body and the tears stinging my eyes have nothing to do with the Bryson situation.
“Taken care of how?” I ask, quickly wiping away a tear.
“Don’t be upset Emma, this is a good turn out. Bryson was permanently kicked out of school and is not able to return. Again, I am sorry this happened to you, but you are safe now,” he says.
Taking a deep breath, I shake my head. “Thank you, Dean Thomas. I appreciate all your help with this and it couldn’t have turned out better.”
After a few minutes he walks away and I slump against a tree. I’m glad that situation is behind me, but I’m even more relieved it wasn’t about me and Drake.
* * *
Pullinginto Drake’s long driveway, I smile. This is where I love to be. When we’re here we are just like any other couple and I love that. There’s no reason to hide anything, because there’s no one to see us.
Throwing the car in park, I grab my bag and even my mail because I saw that the magazine sent me something and I’m nervous to open it alone. It’s ridiculous I know that, but I still wanted him with me. Walking inside I hear him in the kitchen and I drop my bag and my letter, quickly making my way to him.
He turns as soon as he hears my footsteps and I leap into him awaiting arms. The relief I thought I felt earlier was nothing like it is now. Tears I didn’t even know I was holding back begin to flow.
“Hey, woah, what’s going on?” He gently asks, rubbing my back.
Burying my head into his neck, I just breath him in. He smells so good, clean and all man. I tighten my hold on him and smile against my tears.
“It’s fine. I’m being ridiculous,” I say.
Pulling back a bit, he pushes my hair off my face when I look at him. “Ridiculous or not, tell me.”
I tell him the entire story and watch as the concern on his face deepens. It’s not what I wanted. I don’t want him worrying.
