Before Heather slinks through the door, she turns. “See you inside.” Her eyes flash with glee as she does that stupid finger wave–where you jazz dance your fingers at someone. Totally fucking phony.
“What flew up her ass?”
“Who knows.” I step inside the classroom, and Zoe runs into my back.
Heather sits in the front row. Right in front of Alexander. Mr. Alexander Taylor, as indicated on the whiteboard behind him. The letters are written in black ink–in precise black ink.
Alexander Taylor, the guy I dropped to my knees in front of and sucked off like I was trying to count how many licks it took to get to the Tootsie Pop center. Alexander Taylor, the man I begged to bust my cherry with my legs wrapped around his ass. Alexander Taylor, the man who repeatedly told me I was a good girl.
Jesus.The room spins as I shudder from head to toe.
Alexander Taylor, the man standing at the front of my calculus class with his suit jacket draped across the back of his chair. He’s wearing a buttoned-down white dress shirt with rolled up sleeves, exposing webbed veins along his forearm and a rose tattoo. Lord, how good would this man look completely naked?
Alexander Taylor is my calculus professor.
His eyes land on me, and my knees buckle.
I’ve seen all of him I’ll ever see. He’s completely forbidden, and I’m fucked.
Chapter Nine
Alexander
The fact I managed to keep from swallowing my tongue when Daisy walked into my classroom is a miracle. I would put it up there with the design skills of the people who made the Great Pyramid of Giza.
However, I managed to keep a straight face and complete the introductory lecture. Now I’ve got to somehow survive the rest of my life.
I move behind the lectern. “Does anyone have any questions?”
Heather’s hand pops up. “Yes, Heather?”
“What happens if someone doesn’t get the concepts?” She bites her bottom lip. “Are there any special sessions for people like that?”
“There are graduate students who tutor underclassmen who struggle with the concepts. Although, I believe the way I teach the theories will make it easy for everyone to master.”
“It might be for some of us.” She smirks like a cat with a mouse in its claws and turns to look at Daisy and Zoe. “But some of us are not that quick to catch on.”
Daisy’s head goes down toward her desk, causing her auburn hair to cascade around her face, blocking her expression from view. Heather is the epitome of a mean girl. One second, she’s flirting with me, and the next, she’s insulting someone. And clearly, her most popular target is her cousin.
“Let’s not worry about the course material on the first day.” I rest my hands on the lectern to avoid wrapping them around Heather’s neck. Her constant digs are pissing me off. I detest bullies. “We’ll go through everything step by step. And if anyone doesn’t understand something, let me know from the beginning. It’s easier to repeat the information from the outset rather than try and pile on new concepts when you didn’t get the old ones.”
A few of the students nod as some in the back of the room, scroll through their cell phones. That group will be the ones that need the most assistance, yet they won’t ask for any. They’ll be too busy checking social media accounts – until it’s too late to dig themselves out of the hole they’ve excavated.
Heather giggles. “And then, some people still won’t get it.”
“That’s enough, Heather.”
“Some of us aren’t that bright.” Jim, a dark-haired guy in the back row, leans back in his seat and crosses his outstretched legs at the ankles. He looks like the type who’s into wrestling or playing football – broad shoulders, big biceps, and a beefy neck. But the dude can’t be stupid if he’s in calculus class. No students, who aren’t serious about their academics, drop into a calculus class for an easy grade.
Several other students nod, and the overall anxiety in the room dials up a notch. Thank you, Heather. “I’m serious. This class won’t be as bad as some of you are making it out to be. Can we all agree to ask questions if we don’t understand something? I want this space to be safe for any questions.”
Heather crosses her arms over her chest and pouts when I don’t take the bait.
Shawn, a tall, slender kid in the front row, raises his hand. After I nod in his direction, he says, “Thank you, Professor Taylor. I was worried about the class. I need it for my major, and I’ve put off taking it until I couldn’t any longer. I feel less stressed now.”
“Perfect.” I glance at the clock on the wall at the back of the room. “Well, that looks like a wrap. I’ll see you guys on Wednesday afternoon at 1:00 p.m.”
As the students gather their gear and stand, the din in the room becomes a low drone. Daisy glances in my direction, causing my heart to skip a beat. She jerks her attention away from me and says something to Zoe. Their body language indicates they’ve been friends for a while.