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12
Natalie
I watched Luke pack his things and get up, turning to make his way out of the theater with the rest of the class.
“Mr. Jones, a moment of your time, please. I believe you have something to say to me.” I did my best to sound bored, looking down at the stack of papers I was shuffling in front of me.
I looked up just as he turned slowly, making eye contact for the first time since he entered the room.
Holy shit.Yes, he looked like a deer in the headlights, as any student would on their first day of college if they feared they were about to get bawled out by their lecturer, but that look was the least of my worries. What was undoubtedly a concern—hopefully not an ongoing one—was everything else that was clearly visible there, to me, at least. Hurt. Anger. Desire. So much desire I was surprised my clothes didn’t burst into flames as he stared.
“Come down to the front please. I’d rather not bellow across the room.” The last thing I wanted or needed was him standing so close, but as I had said, I could hardly yell what I had to say to him across the echoey lecture hall, plus, having him walk toward me would buy us some time for the room to empty out without it appearing like I deliberately wanted to be alone with him. Which of course I didn’t.
Who was I kidding? I shouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere near him, but the truth was that what I shouldn’t want and what I actually wanted were two different things.
He made his way down toward me, never breaking eye contact once, and it was one of the hottest, most intense encounters of my entire life. Neither of us said a word, yet volumes were spoken. I wanted so badly to look away but found myself absolutely compelled to do the opposite. For anybody observing it would definitely have registered as strange or inappropriate, but thankfully, everyone had their backs to us, focused on leaving the room in the opposite direction.
As he got to the bottom of the stairs that cut through the rows of seats, I indicated a spot in the front row.
“Take a seat, please.”
He looked at me as though I was out of my mind, and he probably wasn’t too far from the truth, but on this point I was totally clear-minded. For all the world we were lecturer and student, formally acquainted for only a couple of hours, and our first interaction hadn’t been a positive one. It was totally fitting for him to sit there while I spoke to him. I climbed down from the podium, walked to the front of the stage, directly opposite where he sat, and rested my butt on the edge, legs crossed at the ankle and stretched in front of me.
I was aiming to give the impression of unruffled indifference, although I felt anything but.
As the door clicked closed behind the last student, Luke opened his mouth to speak. I silenced him with a raised and arched eyebrow.
“My house, my rules, kiddo.” Jesus. I knew I was being a bitch, but I also knew that for both of our sakes, I had to.
“This is going to be a one-sided conversation, and I’ll keep it short and to the point. Firstly, apology accepted.” With that out of the way we could skip to the real reason I’d held him back.
“Secondly, obviously this is a turn of events that nobody saw coming, but it’s here now. We’re here, so we’re just going to have to deal with it. And by deal with it, I mean brush it under the carpet as though it never happened. As far as anyone is concerned we’re just a new student and his lecturer, and in order to safeguard both our careers, that’s what we now are to each other. That night never happened. If we both keep to that version of events, or non-events, as it were, there’s no reason why we can’t make this work.”
“So we just pretend like there’s nothing between us?”
“Absolutely. It was a one-night stand. We were never supposed to see each other again. This is a huge coincidence, but that’s all it is. If you want to stay on the course, and I want to stay in my job, then we both get amnesia. Fast.”
“What if I don’t want to forget?”
What?Was he for real right now? “It’s not about what you want, it’s about what you have to do. This isn’t going to be more than it’s already been. If having me teach you is going to be a problem under those circumstances, then your film studies career is going to be short-lived.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning if you can’t stay on my terms, you’ll have to leave, because I’m sure as hell not going anywhere.”
