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Teaching is new. Sure, I want to do it, but all these students know about me is that I’m the T.A. who checks their attendance and takes their homework. After a deep breath, I dive in, talking all about the symbolism and rhetorical devices being used inDracula.
By the time I glance at Dr. Spence and see her motioning to her watch, I wrap up my lecture and start taking questions. I’ve tried to engage the class as much as possible because I don’t like monologuing. When no one has questions, I smile, go over the assignment due next class, then watch as others pack up.
Dr. Spence smiles. “A good writer and a good reader. You’d make an amazing professor.”
I smile slightly and incline my head. I haven’t really considered being a professor, but there are worse things.
Like being a lawyer and working sixty-hour weeks just to make my dad happy. I can’t imagine arguing in a courtroom without crying.
Shaking my head of the thought, I get half the papers from Dr. Spence so I can go through them and make her workload a little lighter.
As I’m walking out, someone catches my arm before I can trip over the stupid metal piece in the floor between the edges of the doorframe. I clutch the papers tighter to my chest. “That would have been bad.”
“You don’t need any additional Band-Aids, Emily,” a low, deep voice says gently.
I turn to look up at Adrian. He smiles very slightly and releases me. I clear my throat. “Thank you, Dr. Hayes.”
“I’m very impressed by your insights into a classic,” he murmurs. “Most people stop once they point out the homoerotic subtext in the piece.”
“I think that’s become a trend with vampire fiction. Everyone notes that consistent trend, but Anne Rice made it clear inInterview with a Vampire, so there’s no need to point out the obvious. It doesn’t serve anyone,” I mumble.
“Still, focusing onDraculaand saying it’s a war between religion and folklore versus industry and science is a nuanced view,” he continues while walking with me. “I look forward to your next paper.”
“I’m sure you do. I’ll have to work twice as hard to surprise you,” I say playfully.
He gives me a half smile. “Now I’m expecting a surprise.”
“I’ll rise to the occasion,” I promise. “Hopefully, you’ll surprise me in class.”
“Are you calling me a bad professor?”
“Nope,” I answer. I nod to him. “Have a good day, Dr. Hayes.”
“Emily,” he calls.
I turn and face him. He puts a Post It note on the top essay. “Every time you raise my standards, I start expecting more.”
“So I should fail your expectations so it’s easier to surprise you?” I sass.
His eyes sharpen. “I don’t think you’d be satisfied with a job half finished.”
“I guess we’ll have to find out,Professor.”
His jaw tightens. “Be careful, Emily.”
“I will be. No new Band-Aids,” I say with a quick wink and walk away before I do something stupid like suggest we continue this talk during his office hours.
As fun and intense as it is to skirt the rules or try to get away with breaking them, I don’t want us to fuck in the car again. I want us to have time. I want some foreplay, teasing, maybe his tie wrapped around my arms again, or his belt. I lick my bottom lip at the idea.
Once I get back to my dorm, I read the sticky note.
Don’t get too drunk Friday. I have plans for us Saturday, Kitten.
Tell your friends you have a date.
Since I can’t resist, I text him.
Oh? I have a date?
