"I breathe in the smoke from his mouth. Our lips touching intensely he has a way of making me addicted. Addicted to a married man but illicit from him being my friend's uncle. He so damn hot the way he holds my waist and from the way his lips taste...
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Do you drink ice coffee with your breakfast?
CALISTA ASTOR
It's 9:00 in the morning and I can feel my alarm clock buzzing on the table signaling me to get up. I groan tossing in my bed not wanting to get up just yet.
I sigh getting out the bed and turning off my alarm. I stretch and head to the closet to get ready for the day. I pick out my clothes which is a pink sweater with my white skirt and white Gucci shoes.
Since I am in a slight rush I don't bother covering up my freckles today as I leave my bedroom and head downstairs. I smell the faint smell of bacon coming from the kitchen. When I get downstairs I see a plate of bacon and pancakes on the counter waiting for me to eat. My stomach grumbles as I take in the sight of the food and ice coffee next to it. I take the plate with me just deciding I'm going to eat it in the limo since I am in a rush.
As I enter the limo, I let out a sigh of relief. It has been a hectic morning, but at least I have my trusty backpack filled with all my essentials. I take a seat and eagerly reach for my breakfast, savoring the delicious combination of pancakes and bacon. The sweet and savory flavors dance on my tongue, making the morning rush a little more bearable.
But as we pull up to my college, I notice the syrup stain on my favorite pink sweater. I let out a curse under my breath, knowing that I'll have to find a way to hide it before my first class. I quickly make a mental note to hit up the bathroom as soon as I enter the building.
Stepping out of the car, I take in the bustling campus. Students are everywhere, rushing to their classes and chatting with their friends. I check the time on my phone and see that I have 15 minutes until my first class starts. Hopefully, I can make it on time, even with my little detour to the bathroom.
As I walk towards the building, I can't help but feel a twinge of nervousness. My old English teacher, who I had grown to love and admire, has been replaced with someone completely new.
I make my way to the bathroom relief filling me as there is no one in the bathroom as students walk to the class. I get a wet paper towel trying to get the stain to come off but it manages to just make it worse and more wet. I curse myself and look down at the time seeing as I only have 5 minutes to get to class.
As I approach the university, I feel a sense of relief that my class is not far from where I am. The large lecture room is already filling up with students as I arrive. I glance at the front and notice that the professor hasn't arrived yet, which gives me a moment to settle in. I find a seat in the middle of the room, taking out my laptop and notebook to prepare for the lecture.
I'm so engrossed in jotting down notes and reviewing my materials that I don't even notice when the new teacher enters the room. It's only when I hear a deep, rich voice addressing the class that I look up, my vision momentarily blurry.
"Good morning everyone. I am Professor Stanford, your new teacher," he announces, his voice echoing through the spacious classroom. I quickly rummage through my backpack for my glasses, feeling a sense of urgency to see clearly. As I put them on, my heart seems to stop for a moment, then races uncontrollably, feeling like it's dropped from my chest to the floor. It's him—the guy from Vanessa's party, the one who's been occupying my thoughts day and night, the one who's somehow made his way from my dreams into my reality.
My eyes widen in shock as he scans the room, familiarizing himself with the faces of his new students. I want to look away, to hide from his gaze, but I find myself frozen, unable to break eye contact. When his eyes finally meet mine, he furrows his brows in confusion, yet doesn't look away. Feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks, I finally manage to divert my eyes, feeling a warmth of embarrassment spreading through me.
The entire hour feels surreal as his voice fills the classroom. I'm frozen in my seat, distracted and unable to process the fact that the guy who gives me butterflies, the guy I shared a moment with at the party, is now standing before me as my professor.
I shake my head in disbelief, trying to convince myself that this isn't happening. The clock ticks away, and before I know it, the class is over. I realize I haven't written down a single note, too distracted by the presence of my new professor.
As students start to file out of the classroom, I hastily pack my things, avoiding any further eye contact with him. I can feel his gaze on me as I walk away, but I don't dare look back. My mind is racing with thoughts as I make my way out of the lecture hall.
