Page 55 of She’s Worth the Risk

“Wow,” Poppy says, eyes wide. “Just out of nowhere?”

I cringe. “No. I kind of… asked him about it last week, and he said he felt nothing. Then, when I tried to apologize for it now, he told me I was right. That he feels it too.”

I cradle my wineglass, replaying his words. I can’t get you out of my fucking head. If anything, it’s good to know I’m not alone in this, even if he won’t act on it.

“He also reminded me I’m his student,” I add.

Iris’s eyes twinkle over her wineglass. “Only for another week, right?”

“Yes,” I say, thinking of that look in his eye when I reminded him of that fact.

“So, wait.” Iris grins, shrugging. “And when class is over, go for it.”

I laugh. What am I going to do, follow him back to his office the minute class ends? Strip on his desk and demand he take me right there? As much as I like the thought of that, I know it wouldn’t be right.

But maybe Iris is right. Knowing he feels this as intensely as I do… I can’t do nothing.

I just need to wait until he’s no longer my professor.

23

NICK

Idon’t want to wake up on Wednesday morning. Not because it’s the last day of class, but because I’m deep in a dream about Zinnia, her clothes on the floor, her hands all over me, and her mouth—

My alarm breaks into the reverie, and when I blink awake, I’m breathless, grinding my stiff cock into the mattress.

Fuck.

I haul myself out of bed before I blow my load all over the sheets, and finish myself off in the shower. As ashamed as I am to admit it, I’ve woken with morning wood every day this week.

God, the look on Zinnia’s face when I told her the truth in that bar. Not satisfied that I’d finally confessed. Not pleased. Just pure hunger. And that breathless note in her voice as she said my name, the way she tugged my arm…

I try to push the memories away as I step from the shower. Maybe I should regret how honest I was with her, but as hard as I try, I can’t. I could blame it on the alcohol, on the things my brother said to me, but I know that wasn’t it.

It was the truth.

And now she knows.

I won’t be your student in a week.

Her words echo through my head as I dress and walk the short distance to campus. She’s not wrong, but even after today I can’t touch her. Not after she’s already been in my class. I shouldn’t have even been in that bar with her.

But fuck, I want her so badly I ache. It physically hurts to be around her and not be able to touch her. Kiss her.

I laugh bitterly as I enter my office. The me of two months ago would be appalled by who I’ve become. Infatuated with a student, barely able to sleep for thinking about her. Waking up hard every day, wishing she was beside me.

But I’ve lost the ability to care. The more I think about what Marcus said at his bachelor party, the more I realize he wasn’t only talking about himself. He was talking about me.

All these years I thought I’d been living, but I was kidding myself.

As painful as it is to want a woman I can’t have, it’s good to feel something for once. To no longer sleepwalk through my life.

I just don’t know what to do with it after this class ends.

It’s bittersweet, I realize, as I take my laptop and notes to the lecture hall for our final class. As much as Zinnia has surprised me with her own knowledge, I’ve enjoyed teaching her. Guiding her through the course material, talking about the artwork, reading her assignments.

Her final assignment was, as expected, brilliant. She compared Titian’s Venus of Urbino to Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus, contrasting their depiction of the female form through composition, color, and perspective, drawing particular attention to the gaze and hand placement. I gave her an A+, and had to repeatedly check myself to make sure I was being impartial, but I couldn’t think of anything she could have done differently. Done better. She’s my top student, and as I watch the class file into the tiered seating, I realize I’m sad to lose that. Sad she’s not studying further.