Page 16 of Lessons in Touch

I know what he’s referring to. But all I can think about is Rose Devereaux, her soft smile, and her deep eyes.

If I were ever to do something… wrong, she would be the wrong I was doing.

“Keep your nose clean, Gabriel. We’re close.”

“I understand, Alistair. My focus is the campaign.”

“Good. Because you’re surrounded by temptation here—beautiful students, young, eager, all in their twenties, practically at your command. Don’t do anything stupid, Gabriel. A misstep with one of them could end everything.”

“I know my responsibilities, and I won’t cross that line.”

Alistair looks like he doesn’t trust me. “You say that, Gabriel, but I know about Meg, the waitress from the cafe. She’s been telling everyone who’ll listen how she gave you a blow job behind the counter in the cafe.”

I try not to show it, but I do feel surprised that he’s even heard about that. “Meg’s exaggerating her story. It was a mere mistake.”

The fact that the waitress told people about the time we had sex surprises me. But I shouldn’t talk about it anymore with Alistair.

“Mistake or not, she’s loud about it. Imagine this situation with a student, Gabriel. Wolfswood would dismiss you in a heartbeat. And the Senate race would be over before it even began. Voters don’t forgive professors who sleep with their students.”

“I understand the stakes,” I say. “It won’t happen. My students are my priority, nothing more.”

“Make sure that it stays that way. We’re too close to a Senate seat to risk it.”

He stands up and gathers his portfolio, then leaves me alone with the weight of his warning. Evidently, this is all about Rose. A student I am not allowed to pursue.

If I fall for her, I risk it all. So, I have to decide. Is she worth it?

***

The question is still at the back of my mind, like a repetitive tune that you can’t shake. I’m waiting for Rose in the institute’s music hall, a cavernous space with polished wood floors and a grand piano at the center.

I’ve chosen this room for Rose’s second private lesson. The acoustics here are perfect for teaching public speaking. This is a skill she’ll need to wield the Devereaux legacy with confidence.

Feeling restless, I arrange a single chair on the small stage, with a podium beside it. I prepared a speech about her family’s history, and the thought of Rose standing there is exciting me. I want to be close to her again, like we were in my study.

I’m eager to see her progress, to command attention as effortlessly as she commands mine. But what I truly feel is beyond professional. It’s personal, intimate, and forbidden.

Rose walks in a few moments later, dressed in her pristine Wolfswood uniform. She’s also wearing a cream scarf draped loosely around her shoulders, perhaps because of the cold weather, or just because she knows how good this accessory makes her look.

“Good afternoon, Professor,” she smiles sweetly.

“Miss Devereaux,” I say, gesturing to the stage. “Today, we are going to focus on public speaking. The lesson you need to learn is that confidence is power. Are you ready?”

She nods, brushes her scarf with her fingers, and clasps them.

“I’m ready, Professor Thorn.”

Rose is clearly determined, but her posture also tells that she’s nervous.

“Please begin reciting this speech,” I say, handing her the pages. “It’s about the Devereaux legacy. Read it aloud, and project your voice. I want you to own the room.”

Rose steps onto the stage and takes the podium, scanning the text with her eyes. After clearing her throat, she starts to read the speech, but makes a few mistakes. In response, she hunches her shoulders a little and starts to fidget with the paper.

I approach and stand just below the stage.

“Stand straight, Rose. Pull back your shoulders, please.” My words are firm but gentle, and she adjusts immediately. She aligns her posture, looking more elegant yet vulnerable. “Now, again. From the top.”

She tries again. This time, her delivery is steadier but still hesitant. I climb the steps to the stage and position myself in front of her.