Page 37 of The Professor's Possession (Crystal River Billionaire Brothers)

There is no one beside me. I am all alone. As I always am.

I rub my temple. I hate waking up like this. I hate how I’m being haunted like this every time I dare close my eyes.

What have I done to deserve these nightmares?

Are they really nightmares, though? Or are they fantasies of a girl I very much desire?

I rise from my bed with a drawn-out sigh and reluctantly descend the stairs. Despite the late hour, I am keenly aware that sleep will elude me until morning, if it even graces me at all. These dreams featuring Olivia have definitely transformed into a curse that keep me up all night.

And I can’t shake them no matter what I do, so I might as well embrace a nocturnal existence.

I pour myself a large glass of scotch and take a seat in my living room next to my long bookshelf. This is my cave. My comfort zone.

I bought this townhouse a long time ago - when I was living in Europe - and had it renovated according to my taste. My living room is adorned with a rich dark brown mahogany paneling, giving it that classic library-like atmosphere that makes me feel right at home. This townhouse also boasts a climate-controlled wine cellar downstairs. The terrace upstairs leads onto a pool with an infinity edge, perfect for my early morning swims.

I even have a private gym downstairs next to the wine cellar, but I do tend to prefer working out in the college gym where I might potentially run into impossible girls from my dreams...

On those bookcase shelves next to my favorite chair in the living room are my books - the books that have given me everything my entire life from when I was able to read my first word. Whole worlds to explore lie between the pages of my collection. The greatest minds who have ever lived line the shelves, willing to be devoured. Fantasies to transport you into other lives. Moby Dick, Dickens, Austen, Virginia Woolf, Fitzgerald, Joyce, Salinger, Plath, Harper Lee, Hemingway...

Words are the one thing in life that haven’t failed me yet. The one thing I can rely upon.

As I lean back in my leather chair, I turn on some music on my phone and taste my expensive scotch. A dark and soulful record plays in the background, perfect for this moment.

The music drifts around me as I savor the taste of the alcohol and close my eyes, finally able to relax...

And then I shake my head.

Will I fall into another dream about Olivia Weldon?

At least I can now put a name to the face of my dream girl, even if I can’t stop thinking about her. At least I’ve found her.

And she rejected me.

I would’ve thought the dreams would stop the minute I realized who Olivia Weldon was, but they have only grown stronger for some strange reason I can’t decipher. Even talking to her has not ailed me against my nightly hauntings.

The way she brushes back her lovely hair... the slight smile on her face as she talks to me... her slight insecurity about her perfect body... her sparkling eyes...

I can walk away at any moment and try to forget about this student. I am a Penmayne. I can have any girl I want anywhere in the world I choose. But tobreathein this girl is something else entirely... she is like a drug to me. I could not keep myself restrained at the gym. I could not help myself but go in for the kill. I simply had to wait outside those doors and talk to her and ask her for a drink at a bar like a shark thirsting for blood. I am usually so reserved, so careful and considerate in my speech and my actions, but the girl from my dreams compels me to do things out of my control - like asking one of my students out.

And it is fuckingterrifying.

I feel like only one thing could stop these dreams.

Her.

I need her. I must pursue her.

But I must remind myself that my past could really hurt her. She doesn’t deserve to be damaged by what I’ve done and what I am, not my dream girl.

But still... Olivia Weldonrejectedme. She said no to my face outside the gym. No one rejects a Penmayne. I can’t get over that. Why would she? It's another enigma about this woman that I must confront if I am to be at peace.

It further intensifies my desire for her.

I reflect on how my yearning for privacy has built up walls around me over the years. How I may outwardly project the passionate and well-read professor, enthusiastic about literature but, in reality, I guard my inner soul fiercely. Even to the ones closest to me. Even to the ones I love.

But the mystery of this girl is, day by day, creeping through those walls I have so meticulously designed.

Why am I so completely and utterly fucking lost when it comes to Olivia Weldon?

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