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Story: Falling for the Quarterback (Clearview Falls University)
Chapter Five
C harlotte
That little shit.
That goddamn cocky little shit!
Okay, he’s not little at all, but damn him! Damn the whole universe!
I look down at the books now scattered across my office floor and heave a dramatic sigh. I have never let my anger get the best of me or let it get physical. I am, after all, my father’s daughter. We British are notoriously and stereotypically stoic in nature.
Why am I letting this man…this student get to me?
Oh yeah, because I let his penis get inside me.
“Unknowingly,” I mutter to myself, as if I’m trying to explain it all away. I begin picking up and restacking the books I threw on the corner of my desk. A curse rips from under my breath as I notice a page ripped from one.
After placing the last book on my desk, I walk over to my chair, slumping into it and dropping my head in my hands. Half of me wants to believe this is all a bad dream, that when I uncover my eyes, I’ll be back in my bed and none of this would have ever happened.
The other half of me…my traitorous body…well, it’s happy as hell that the man who gave me the best night of sex ever just showed back up in my life.
“You’re going to get us sacked, you cunt,” I grumble, glancing down at myself to see the skin of my chest still splattered with red blotches. It’s my telltale sign that, as a redhead, I can never hide my feelings when I’m frustrated or angry.
Now that I’m a professor, I need to do a better job of controlling those feelings, especially where Hendy is involved.
Involved . That word could easily be used if anyone ever finds out about us. They’d assume we’re involved now, even though that’s farthest from the truth.
It will never happen again, despite the erotic images Joel painted for me about what he’d be thinking during every class. Despite not knowing who I was when we slept together, now that he knows I’m his professor, Joel now probably sees me as a challenge. Like some kind of conquest, trying to bang his older professor again.
His words come streaming back to me.
Jesus, that was so hot. Logically, I know I shouldn’t have liked it. It should’ve been offensive that he used such inappropriate language, and I should have admonished him.
But I wasn’t offended at all. Something about his suggestion of control turned me on. The thing is, I hate being controlled. It’s the reason why I left England.
Yet, here I am, my pussy throbbing in that needy way because of how Joel described his fantasy of me dropping to my knees and using my mouth again to get himself off.
I run a frustrated hand through the hair in my bun and yank it undone with a tiny growl, letting my hair cascade loosely over my shoulders.
What is wrong with me? It’s my first day in my new academic role and I’m getting overheated by the demanding and direct words of my student.
My mind drifts back unbidden to my ex-boyfriend, Oliver. He was everything my family thought was boyfriend material. Slightly older, well-established, and the soon-to-be head of a financial consulting firm in London. He was also a favorite lecturer at the Sa?d Business School at the University of Oxford, which was seen as a highly respectable position to my parents.
But behind closed doors, Oliver was controlling and verbally abusive. After a childhood with my father, who was similar in nature, I’d become thick-skinned and adept at letting his verbal insults go. But after an event one night where he drank too much and forcefully grabbed my arm during an argument, I left him. I went to Poppy’s flat and applied to four PhD programs in the United States. I was accepted within three months and left a few months after that.
I have learned through exerting my independence that I don’t ever want to be treated disrespectfully or in a controlling manner ever again.
An inner rage begins to bubble to the surface once more. I won’t be seen as weak. Especially weak over a man. Never again.
A knock at my door startles me and breaks me away from my convoluted thoughts. I quickly straighten my blouse and glance at the handheld mirror in my desk drawer, wiping away a smudge of mascara before answering. Did Joel return to apologize? To tell me he’s dropping the class after all?
“Come in,” I state authoritatively.
The door opens and I’m shocked to see Hubert Collingsworth, a colleague of my father’s and an old family friend back in England.
“Hubert?” I say, completely surprised by his out-of-the-blue appearance in my office. Apparently, today is the day of reconnecting with unexpected acquaintances.
Hubert is one of the good ones. He’s kind and generous with his time, and nearing retirement age. His wife passed away a few years ago, leaving him widowed with time on his hands that he now spends traveling the world visiting family and friends, as well as guest lecturing at prestigious universities. Hubert reminds me of my own grandfather who died when I was young, and I have a soft spot for him in my heart.
“Hello, Charlotte darling. How is my favorite new professor?” he asks exuberantly as he walks over to where I now stand in shock, offering me a fatherly kiss on my cheek.
I throw my arms around him in a big hug and when I step back, I look at him in confusion. “What in the world are you doing here?”
He gives a small chuckle. “I was speaking with your father and he told me you recently joined the faculty at Clearview Falls. I just happened to have a speaking engagement not far from here this week, so why not pop by and see if I could steal you away for a pint?” he explains, giving me his mustached, warm smile.
“Oh, of course, I’d love to,” I offer, peeking at my watch to check the time. “But I do have other classes and a faculty meeting today. Could we meet up tomorrow evening?”
“Wonderful,” he replies, clasping his hands together firmly. “I’ll look forward to it. I’ve been told there’s a good pub just off campus called The Bear Paw. Shall we say six tomorrow evening?”
“That would be lovely. Do you know your way around campus or do you need directions?”
Hubert waves me off with a gesture toward the door as I grab my materials for my next class. “I’ll get directions from the hotel concierge. Don’t you worry about me.”
I open the door and Hubert follows me out of the office and down the hallway. Students trickle by on their way to their next classes or other activities, and it gives me a renewed rush of excitement for the term ahead.
As we reach my classroom door, I say my goodbyes.
“Now off you go and have a good class, Professor.” Hubert gives me another peck on my cheek and then turns to head off in the direction of the student union.
I watch him amble off and shake my head at the strange morning I’ve had already. First Hendy and now Hubert.
Two blasts from my past and one of them an unwelcome one.
* * *
The next day my two lectures go rather smoothly and I use the remaining time to focus on my lecture notes for tomorrow. In a blink of an eye, the day is over and I meet up with Hubert at the Bear Paw pub just a block off campus.
We’d decided on two pints of lager and toast to one another. A sense of homesickness washes over me as I sit across from my family friend. The beer, the pub, the accent all remind me of home.
“So tell me all about your courses, my darling Charlotte.”
I take my first sip, toss away that blue feeling, and begin to tell him about my courses and curriculum.
“I’ve been tasked with teaching a small seminar on Mondays and Wednesdays and two lectures on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I’m also currently working on a paper that I’d like to finish writing and have published in the spring.”
“Sounds lovely. You’ve always been such an overachiever that I have no doubt you will do what you say you’ll do.” I blush under Hubert’s compliment.
It’s so rare that I hear high praise from senior figures. My father has never complimented me for my achievements. Overachieving was simply a nonnegotiable with him. Yet even earning the highest marks were still never enough to make him proud of me.
As if reading my thoughts, Hubert continues.
“I haven’t seen your father since before the holidays.” He scratches the bald spot on his head, as if puzzling out an invisible calendar in his brain. Then he shakes off the thought. “We keep missing one another. Andrew continues to be at the top of his game. There’s no slowing him down. I think the apple doesn’t fall from the tree.” He raises his bushy eyebrows dubiously.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I say, thinking how vastly different I am from my father. “From what I hear, my father is doing fine.”
Our conversation continues as Hubert shares news from home and I fill him in on my recent life updates and we order and finish our dinners, including a second round of drinks.
Finally, a waitress returns to our table to check on us.
“Another round for either of you?”
“None for this old man. How about you, Charlotte?” Hubert replies, glancing over at me.
I shake my head and pat my very full stomach. “I’m stuffed, thank you. Just a box for takeaway, please.” I motion to my unfinished burger, and she nods and walks off toward the bar.
It’s been nice to catch up with Hubert, but our conversation has made me a tad antsy. I want to be home to mentally prep for the fact that I’ll be seeing Hendy in class tomorrow. That is, if he stays true to his firm commitment to remain in my class. When I checked the enrollment system earlier today, his name was still listed on the roster.
Just my luck. My one-night stand that won’t leave.
We chitchat a bit more until Hubert calls it a night. He places some bills on the table and we stand to give each other hugs.
“Thank you so much for dinner and the company. It was so nice to see you.”
“The pleasure was all mine, pet.” He boops me on the tip of my nose as if I’m still a little girl. And just as he grabs his hat to place it on his head, he brings up the one subject I didn’t want to discuss.
“By the way, I just ran into Oliver at a reception I attended a fortnight ago. He inquired about you and your whereabouts.” I step back, wobbling a bit on my heels and grab the back of the chair to remain upright. Here we go.
“Oh?” I try to keep the disdain out of my voice. “What did you tell him?”
“He asked if I’d heard from you lately. I told him no but that I might be over in the States and would see you. He prattled on and on about you and asked that I pass on his regards. Oliver sure does seem to miss you.” He eyes up my reaction and I think he wants to know how I am post-breakup, even though it feels like a lifetime ago. I know my parents still hope I’ll forgive Oliver and come back home someday. That will never happen.
I shrug. “Well, I’m sure he’ll find someone new soon. I’ve found that I enjoy being on my own for once.”
And not being controlled by a man who thinks he owns me , I think to myself.
He nods. “Good for you, pet. I need to get going, but it was such a pleasure to spend time with you. Thanks for indulging this old man with your lovely conversation.”
I smile and lean in for a proper hug, wishing my parents were more like Hubert. He clearly saw I didn’t want to talk about Oliver and dropped the questions.
He kisses my cheek. “Right, then. Good night, Charlotte.”
I smile as he leaves and then sit back down to wait for the waitress to return with my box, using the time to think through the last part of our conversation.
I thought I was doing well and had come so far in getting over Oliver. But his name dredges up all those old feelings I’ve tried to bury and move on from.
That incredible one-night with Joel had given me the morale boost I needed to push forward in my life and forget about the messy breakup with Oliver.
In fact, that one-night stand made me realize something I never knew about myself when I was with Oliver: I can orgasm with a man and I like being told what to do in bed.
I flush at the thought just as two beers and a box are set down on my table. I blink and stare up at the waitress.
“I didn’t order any more beer. I only wanted the box,” I insist, but she throws a look over her shoulder toward the bar and then shoots me a grin.
“They’re from Hendy.”