My Professor's Secret

10|

ten

Clothing seemed to be in short supply whenever there was somewhere requiring effort into your appearance. Half of the clothes I did have were either sprawled across the bed or crumbled in a pile of rejects. Nothing seemed to fit the occasion of hanging with your teacher after hours.

Maybe I'd been giving too much thought to the way I showed up at his house. Nothing would look worse than showing up in my pajamas, but any time an outfit seemed to be the one, it never was. It took five minutes of realization to decide a pair of jeans and T-shirt was the only outfit I had enough energy to prepare myself in. A soft knock broke my focus as I brushed half of my hair back into a ponytail. Despite my earlier objections to Taylor before she left, Shaylynn stood at the door once I opened it.

"Taylor texted me," she says with her arms held up in defense. "She wanted me to stop you from going to the library for the fiftieth time today. Her words, not mines."

Lynn pushes past me to get inside our dorm. Her face scrunches immediately once she spots the disastrous piles of clothing disrupting the rooms normal cleanliness. She doesn't comment on the mess, but pushes a spot clear of clothes on my bed before sitting down.

"Tell Taylor I said nice try. I was actually on my way out right now."

If there was one thing never failing about Lynn, it was her sense of style. For someone coming to stop me from heading to the library—her outfit surely had its own plans. She was dressed in a white skin tight long sleeve turtleneck with white knee high stockings held up by a garter belt. Her black pleated miniskirt stopped just before reaching the center of her thighs and she wore black glossy heels that looked impossible to walk in.

"Me too," she smiles, removing the mini backpack on her back. She pulls out a pair of flats and shoves her heels in the bag before sitting it on the floor. I watch her cross one leg over the other while typing a quick message on her phone. "Figured we could rent bikes together then head our separate ways. I have a hot hookup tonight that I don't want to be late for."

"Rent bikes? And you're planning on riding a bike to a hookup wearing that? Bold move."

Lynn laughs and readjusts her skirt.

"No one told you either? The student center has bikes we can rent. It costs a dollar to keep them every twelve hours. Besides, guys love a little sweat. It adds a dash flavor so I'm told," she laughs. "You down?"

Riding a bike definitely wasn't the plan, but it beat walking so I agreed and we were on our way. Despite the fact that it took fifteen extra minutes waiting for a bike lock, I made it to Professor's house in half the time it would've taken to walk.

He opened the door with a smile and soft hello before leading me towards the island. His Hinkhouse apron covered his bare chest and half of the grey sweatpants he was wearing. The smell of food and spices in the air demands the attention of my empty belly and tastebuds every step closer to the kitchen. Professor T heads towards the stove and slides an mitt over his hand to grab something inside out the oven.

"Thought you decided to change your mind," he sets the tray of rolls on the counter, coating each one with a thin layer of cinnamon butter. "I wouldn't have held it against you if you had. No disrespect but I was close to telling you not to come. We're coworkers but because I'm also your Professor, I should've never sent that text."