Before I can stop myself, I say, “Thinking about what?”
She stares at me through long, dark eyelashes, and I can see her fighting with herself on what she wants to say.
Just as I thought she would, she throws caution to the wind. “I had a dream about you.”
My brows shoot up. “Oh?”
She nods. “That desk was in it, too.”
Behind my pants, my cock stirs. Jesus Christ.
Nova places the end of the pen on her bottom lip, watching me with a lustful gaze that sets me on fire.
Before either of us can say or do anything, students trickle in, but our eyes stay connected for several seconds before I ease my gaze away.
I spend the rest of the class period avoiding all eye contact with her, and luckily she doesn’t stay behind to ask any questions today.
At the end of the day, I wish there was someone I could go talk about this with. Sure, there’s my brothers, but Royce and Cill would just give me shit like they always do. And it feels wrong to even admit to crushing on a student. I’m a thirty-five-year-old man. I don’t have many close friends to talk to, and every friend I do have is a professor, so I’m definitely not saying anything to them.
So, like usual, I’ll deal with this alone. Maybe I should call Lorraine, or one of the other women who are interested in me. The only problem with that is I’m not interested in them.
12
It’s already been a month of school, and I’m doing well in all of my classes except calculus. Communication between me and Elijah is typical student/teacher type conversations. He avoids eye contact with me as much as possible, and I don’t bother lingering before or after class to try to flirt.
He seems to be getting hotter and hotter every day though, and it’s really hard to keep my dirty thoughts to myself.
“Girl, that guy is totally checking you out!” Ayanna exclaims.
“Who?” I ask, looking across the restaurant.
She pops a fry in her mouth. “Dude by the door. Black hat.”
My eyes find his. He smiles, and I respond with a tiny grin. “I guess he’s kinda cute.”
“You’re insane,” she says, chewing the fry. “Okay, fine. What’s your type?”
I shrug. “I don’t think I really have a type.”
She rolls her eyes. “Are you already into someone? Is it Lorenzo? Because while he’s cute, I think he might be a man-ho.”
I laugh. “Yeah, no. It’s not him.”
Her dark eyes widen. “So there is a him!” She takes a sip of her Coke through the straw. “Okay, spill it.”
“There’s not really anybody, honestly. Just a stupid crush.”
She waves her hand in the air, telling me to continue. “Uh-huh. And?”
“It can’t go anywhere. It’s dumb, really. I don’t even know him. He’s just really nice to look at.”
“I’m gonna slap you if you don’t just tell me. Do I need to start guessing? Okay. John? Mitchell? Roy? Will? Steven?” She gasps. “Is it Luca?”
I shake my head. “Uh. No. None of those guys.”
Ayanna levels me with a look. “If you don’t tell me…”
“All right, all right. But you can’t freak out and you can’t say anything to anybody. I mean it!”
“Okay, jeez.”
“I’m kinda crushing on Professor Kingston.”
I bite my lip and watch her intently. She freezes right before she’s about to put a fry in her mouth. After dropping it to the plate, she goes from shocked silent to hysterically laughing.
I pick up a fry and throw it at her. “It’s not that funny!” But I can’t help but join her in her laughter.
“Dude, Kingston? For real? I mean, yes, he’s fucking hot. But yeah, I don’t see that happening.”
“I know. I mean, he’s my teacher. I know there’s a rule against it.” I don’t tell her what already happened. I don’t need that bit of info getting to anyone else, but man, I wish I could talk to someone about it.
She waves her hand. “Not even that. I mean, fuck it, right? You know how many professors are sleeping with students? But Kingston? He wouldn’t do that.” Ayanna keeps shaking her head. “Nah. He’s too by the book, you know?”
Starting to get that, but again, I can’t say too much. “I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like he looks at me differently. Not like a student.”
“But?”
“Then there are times where I feel like he goes out of his way to ignore me.”
Ayanna wipes her mouth. “Girl, you need to find a guy to make you forget about good ol’ Professor Kingston. That guy over there keeps looking at you, so I’d start with him.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Pft. Of course I am.”
* * *
The next day in calculus, Professor Kingston hands back our previous test. My grade is not good.
He taps the paper and looks into my eyes. “See me after class.”
My heart races, then Lorenzo leans over. “Ooh. You gonna be in trouble or what?”
“My grade for this class is in trouble.”
“Well, I’d offer to help you, but I’m afraid I’m not much better than you,” he says, turning his paper around to show me the grade he got.
“Still a little better than me.”
Once everyone leaves the room, I head to Professor Kingston’s desk and wait for him to speak.
“Your test scores are getting lower and lower. Your overall grade is being heavily affected by that. Your homework scores are okay, but they could be better.”
His voice doesn’t hold any annoyance or frustration. Just a concerned teacher hoping one of his students doesn’t fail.
“I’ve never been good at math,” I admit. “I’ve just skated by, but I probably need help.”
“Well, we have an online discussion board.”
I make a face. “Online anything won’t help me. I need to be with people.”
“There’s Wednesday night reviews from six to eight. I’m not sure where they meet up, but…”
I cut him off. “I’ll be working during that time.”
He folds his arms across his chest. “You’re
