Page 12 of One Night With My Grumpy Professor Daddy

Honestly, it’s perfect, and I get to enjoy time with my little girl and be present for my professorship position at the University. And, as an added bonus, I don’t have to deal with all the bullshit of corporate law on a daily basis.

My teaching assistant briefs me and hands me the materials I need to start the day.

Greeting the students of my first class, I introduce the course outline.

“Is there anyone here who’d like to discuss the specifics?” I ask, scanning the room briefly.

I notice a smaller audience staring back at me. I do another quick sweep

of the lecture hall— my heart skips a beat as disbelief washes over me and I do a double take.

What the—?

It’s been four years since we crossed paths— this girl’s hair’s wavier, but that face, I’d notice that face anywhere. No—

I’ve got to have this wrong; it can’t be her...or maybe all those dreams I’ve had about her lately are spilling into reality.

Trying my damnedest to keep it professional, I compose myself and say,

“You, the floor’s yours,” pointing at the skinny black guy with his hand raised.

trying my best not to look over in her direction. I almost didn’t hear what he said because my mind keeps straying to that night.

“Thank you,” I say to the young man, although I hardly heard anything that came out of his mouth.

My heart pounding at double its usual speed, I switch through the pages of the PowerPoint, droning in on the end-of-year project like a robot on autopilot.

I’ve got to be hallucinating.

How can she be sitting here…in my class…pursuing law?

She didn’t even strike me as the intellectual type. A student, maybe, but I never would’ve guessed a law student.

The memories of that night flood through me as I struggle to keep my composure.

Standing at the podium, I’m easily able to watch her every move. Maybe it isn’t her because you couldn’t tear the smile off that girl’s face. She’s sitting in the center middle row, but her head’s been down the whole time— not once has she looked up. I definitely see some similarities, but maybe it’s just a random girl that looks like her, and I just have Caribbean beauty on the brain.

I wrap up my presentation, preparing for an early dismissal, and I surprise myself.

“You know what, let’s take some time to break the ice and introduce ourselves—let’s start here.”

One by one, they ramble on as my boredom hits its tipping point, and I finally get to her. She stands, raises her eyes to mine, and in the same soft voice I heard on the beach four years ago, she says.

“My name is Ava Miller, I just transferred in from Nova University.” One look at her eyes, and I know undeniably it’s her.

Holy shit, What the actual fuck?

Chapter seven

Ava

If you’d told me when I woke up this morning that I’d walk into a class to find out my one-night stand from four years ago is my professor, I would have laughed in your face and turned back to my books. But then, you’d be right.

I start by getting up at the same time every day, 6:00 am, on the dot with the sun— drink a cup of tea, go for a run, prepare for class, and look over my course load.

But out of the blue, I have a nagging headache in class today, so I keep my head down till class starts. And that’s when I see him.

Tall, dark, and stormy…Mr. Navy blue suit walks in. Shocked, I keep my head down the entire lecture, my mind reeling with doubt as I try to avoid any form of contact. But then the time comes when I can’t avoid it anymore. I stand and introduce myself.

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