Professor Series - Chris Evans 💙

Chapter 2

The next day, I'm on the couch, reading when I hear the apartment door open to see Tommy enter. He was tall, much taller than me; but then again, who wasn't? He had short blond hair and amber eyes with a hint of green in the sun, "what's up Tommy?"

He sighed, plopping on the couch next to Valerie, "I wanted apologize for last night. The girl."

I laughed, "what for? We aren't actually dating. It's fine. Perhaps we should knock from now on."

He nodded, "probably a good idea. Want to come over tonight? Watch a movie?"

I shrugged, "I don't feel like it." I saw disappointment wash over his face as I sighed, "you can stay here and watch a movie if you want." I leaned towards the table, handing him the remote as he laid down, resting his head in my lap, making me laugh, "get comfortable then."

Tommy laughed, "I will." He hesitated for a moment, "we aren't dating by the way. The girl. It was just a hook up."

"It's fine Tommy. I told you. You don't owe me anything." I heard him sigh as he flipped through the channels and I wondered why he was so worried about me knowing that the girl was in fact not his girlfriend. I went back to reading my book as I mindlessly fingered through his hair.

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I walked into my literature class, sitting in the front row as I watched the back of the head of the professor as he wrote 'Professor Evans' on the board. I felt my heart jump as he turned around, locking eyes with me. I watched his jaw clench as his eyes darkened, shaking his head. I blushed, looking down at my notebook as the rest of the students filed in. I watched him sit on the edge of his desk, watching the students take seats. I noticed the majority of the students were female. That didn't completely surprise me as I realized what Anna meant about him. He was by far the youngest and most attractive professor I had seen at the school. The attractive man with a playful demeanor I encountered at the bar a few days prior seemed to be gone, replaced by this serious, stoic and stern face. He seemed almost upset I was sitting here in front of him.

As everyone sat down, Chris stood up from his desk, "I'm Professor Evans. And you're in Literature and what it can teach us. I'm going to go through the roster. If I don't call your name, you're in the wrong class." He pointed to the door, "see that you find your way out. Quietly."

I sat and listened to him make it through the roster, falling on my name last. He looked up at me as he said it and I thought my heart was going to beat right out of my chest.

"Valerie Wilson."

I nodded, smiling as he lingered on me for a moment before continuing.

"So. Can anybody tell me the definition of literature?"

I looked around and saw everyone avoiding his gaze so I answered, "well the word literature comes from the Latin word meaning 'writing formed with letters'. But the accepted definition is constantly changing. In summation it's basically works of creative imagination, usually in written form. More so to works that have stood the test of time that we constantly refer back to; Brontë, Austen, Steinbeck, Orwell. Et cetera." I saw an amused smirk cross his lips before returning back to his serious demeanor.

"Very good Ms. Wilson. Next time raise your hand though."

I nodded, blushing at his serious tone. "Sorry sir."

He shook his head, "professor is fine." He tried to not focus on how her calling him sir in front of the entire class made him feel. He knew this was going to be a long semester having to see her sitting in front of him everyday. Now he couldn't even ask her why she never called because his number one rule was never to sleep with a student, even if she was already testing him.

At the end of the class I started to rush away, but heard my name, making me groan.

"Ms. Wilson. Wait a minute."

I sighed, standing next to his desk as he waited for everyone else to leave.

Chris stood up, leaning against the desk next to her, "you never used my number."

I shrugged as I smirked, "I'm sorry. Maybe I didn't want anymore Amy Winehouse jokes."

He laughed, crossing his arms, "well now it's too late. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were going to be one of my students."

I nodded, taking a step towards him as I heard him clear his throat, clearly uncomfortable with my closeness, "and if you had known?"

"Then I probably wouldn't have bothered you."

I smiled, "probably?"

He sighed, backing away from her, "be a good girl and don't cause trouble." He sat at his desk as he watched her, "don't you think you're a little advanced for this class?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. I needed another elective and I love to read." I smirked, leaning on the desk next to him, "and besides, I've been told all about the elusive Professor Evans and how attractive he was."

He chuckled, leaning towards her, "and? First impressions?" He watched her blush as her demeanor became more and more confident, making him hard in his pants. He shifted in his seat, hoping she didn't notice.

I laughed, "well, this isn't my first impression."

He nodded, "I meant about the attractiveness."

"Oh." I stood up straight, "I don't know. I'll let you know. Later Professor Evans."

"See you on Wednesday Ms. Wilson." He leaned back in his chair as he watched her walk away from him. She was different than most of the other girls here, full figure with curves in all the right places. Something told him she didn't hear enough how exceptionally beautiful she was. He imagined gripping onto her brown hair as she looked up at him with those big blue eyes as his now aching cock passed across her full lips. He groaned, resting his head on the back on the chair. It would definitely be a long semester.

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"Sooo?"

I sighed as Anna came into the apartment. I looked up from my book, "sooo. What?"

She scoffed, "come on! Professor Evans! Hot right?"

I groaned, nodding, "unbelievable Anna."

She laughed, "I told you. He looks at peoples transcripts and grades, only letting in certain students into his class."

"Really?" I thought for a moment if I should tell her I had met him at the bar a few days ago. I decided against it, knowing she would make a big thing out of it. And it most certainly was not a big thing. He probably just noticed I was alone and felt bad for me. He was incredibly attractive though. I knew it would be a long semester having to stare at him three times a week. I picked up my phone considering if I should message him, but he said it was too late now. I didn't want to be that girl; the college girl begging for attention from the hot professor. I groaned to myself as I set my phone back down, what a cliché.