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Chapter One

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Today is the first day of the second semester, and being tardy is not a good look for a professor.

I am Professor Blake Aubrey Elcock. I’ve been teaching Myth and Reality in the American Past at Moore University, an HBCU in Houston, Texas, for four years.

Before that, it was drama. I still participate in events and plays.

I finally reached the school's car garage. Someone must have left because there was a space right by the elevator I took to my class.

I rush in trying not to look flustered.

It’s not like I’m addicted like others. People talk like coffee is a must-have in life. It’s nasty if you don’t add sugar and cream.

I make it to try to keep me energized for the day. I guess that's the hype.

Six students are lined up in the hallway waiting by my door.

I hear different replies from each of them.

I open the door allowing them to enter first. I pull out the syllabus for this semester. We'll go over that today. Ending with an essay assignment due on Wednesday. Nothing too hard for the first day.

The bell rings.

This is a good ice breaker.

A few hands raise. I point at the first one I saw go up.

The class laughs.

He waits to see if anyone will answer.

I wait a bit.

The students laugh. Not sure if it was funny or because I'm the professor.

I introduce myself. Then start to take attendance.

I'm at the end of the roster.

I look around. Nothing.

When I'm about to call out the next name, the class door opens.

I advert my attention to the young man standing in the doorway.

I want to scold him, but all I can do is stare.

He places his hands in the front pockets of his slacks. His stance with his eyes glaring at me says, ‘I want you.’

At least, that's how I interpret it.

I realize I'm in a daze.

At a student, none the less.

Thank the college gods that the only available seats are in the back.

He stares at me squinting his eyes.

Is that a smirk forming on his face?

I need to snap out of it and continue.

After highlighting important dates for this semester, I write on the board the essay question and go over my expectations.

I keep glancing towards the back of the room. It's like I feel him watching my every move. Yes, the other students probably are, too, but he's the only one I care to notice.

There's about four minutes until the next bell rings.

I see Mr. Payne's hand raise.

He's pointing with his thumb to the girl sitting next to him.

The class looks around waiting. He stands up.

Oh no. This could go bad. Really, really bad.

The class laughs, of course.

Groans & moans is all I hear.

The bell rings.

I take my glasses off to put inside my handbag in the bottom drawer of my desk.

I look back up and almost freak out.

The glare in his eyes is hypnotic.

I couldn't see the light stubble on his sharp jaw with him in the back of the class.

What is wrong with me? He's a student.

Is he looking at me like he wants me? No, he can't be. I'm his professor.

I grin, hoping he'll leave now.

Finally, he leaves.

He has awakened parts of me that are forbidden to him with his smoke, cinnamon musk, and that deep voice.

It's been a while since this has happened being single and all.

What the eff is going on? I've never felt like this towards a student.

I meet Kourtney and Anthony in the lounge.

Anthony pushes a chef's salad in front of me with a bottle of water.

Nothing gets past these two. I swear they have a six sense.

They both look around the lounge playing with me.

I cocked my head at him.

He raises his fist.

They smile at me, chewing on their Turkey on wheat sandwiches.

I do love them. Don't get me wrong, but both are in happy marriages. Time and time again, they've told me...

At that moment, I decided to keep what I wanted to confess about Keenan Payne.

What am I doing? I should not reference his name.