Page 12 of Never Let Go (Forbidden #1)

Chapter Twelve

LAUREN

“ Y ou’re gonna be there, right?” Sydney asks nervously the next morning.

I smile at her. “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Sydney’s midterm showcase is coming up in a few weeks and I know how stressed out she’s been with it. I’ve never missed one of her shows, and I’m not about to start now.

We’re sitting in the front window of the Honey Pot, people-watching before class.

The place is a small outbuilding on campus, which tends to be more of a takeaway coffee shop than a sit-in one, so the seating’s minimal.

I love the atmosphere here, though, with its quirky décor and mismatched furniture. It makes the place feel warm and cozy.

“Do you want another one?” I nod towards Sydney’s nearly empty cup.

Draining the last of her drink, she holds it out to me. “Please. ”

Standing up, I take a slow walk over to the counter salivating at the sweet treats, sandwiches, and pasta. Forgoing those I wait for the barista to finish serving another customer when a stunning redhead, with curves to die for, and green eyes brighter than mine, comes and takes my order.

“Hi, what can I get you?”

“A large black coffee and a large, no fat latte, please.”

“No problem. Lauren, right?” she asks as she writes my name on the cup.

I smile at her and laugh. “Do I come here that often?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” she stutters, her eyes going wide at the thought I might think she’s stalking me. “I just meant I’ve seen you around, in a non-weird, nonsexual way,” she fumbles, her face going bright red from her embarrassment.

“It’s okay. I get what you mean,” I chuckle, and watch as her shoulders relax.

A small smile curves at her lips as she holds out her hand, and I eye it like it’s the beginning of the plague. “I’m Raven.”

I place my hand in hers as I reply, “Nice to meet you, Raven.”

We stand chatting for a few minutes while she makes the coffees—Raven’s a physio major working at the Honey Pot part time.

I hate talking to people, it’s why I don’t have many friends, but Raven has this gentle manner about her that has me talking to her like I’ve known her for years.

The last person that happened with was Sydney, so I take it as a good sign.

We’re just finishing exchanging numbers and promising to meet up when a voice from behind breaks in.

“Small macchiato, please.”

I freeze at the low tone, unmoving before coming to my senses and turning around .

“Ca—Professor Anderson.” I swallow, trying to dampen my suddenly dry mouth.

Caleb stands before me wearing a tight white T-shirt, jeans, and black sneakers.

He runs his tongue slowly over his bottom lip and I can’t help but track the movement, completely enthralled by such a small act.

My pussy decides to wake up at that point and I clench my thighs together to dampen down the need for him, but it doesn’t work, especially when the corner of his mouth quirks up in a small grin.

I feel like we’re in our own bubble, the outside world having faded away as we stand there drinking each other in.

“I’ll just get that for you, Professor Anderson,” I hear Raven say, but I still can’t take my eyes off the man in front of me.

Heaven help me—stop looking at him!

“Miss Taylor.” He nods as he reaches to pay for his drink. He’s close enough that I get a hint of his leather and cinnamon smell. Raven hands him his drink, pulling us out of our staring contest and I watch as he takes a sip, entranced by his Adam’s apple as he swallows.

Why is an Adam’s apple just as hot as the veins popping on a man’s hands and forearms? I need a new hobby.

My errant thoughts are interrupted by Sydney. “Woman, where’s my coffee? You’ve been—Dear god, who is this gorgeous man?” she gasps as she eyes Caleb. Even though Sydney’s into women, she’s always been able to appreciate a man when she thinks he’s good looking and, apparently, she thinks Caleb is.

“Erm, Syd, this is my English professor. Professor Anderson.”

Caleb grins and offers his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You didn’t tell me he was hot, Lo,” Sydney says out the side of her mouth, just loud enough for everyone to hear. Raven stifles a laugh behind her hand .

“Nice to see you, Professor. We need to get going.” I grab Sydney by her arm, abandoning the coffees, grabbing our bags and heading for the door, calling out to Raven that I’ll text her soon.

“What was that all about?” Sydney exclaims as I try to get us as far away from the shop as quickly as possible.

“Oh, nothing. I have a paper due, and I didn’t want him to remember and ask me for it,” I stumble out. Guilt for lying to Sydney starts churning in my gut, threatening to bring up my coffee.

I heave out a sigh. Seeing Caleb again is confusing.

I mean, he’s never far from my thoughts.

I have one class with him a week and now my extra lessons, but I can’t help how my body reacts to him.

It’s as if I’m the lighter fluid, and he’s the match, ready to burn me with a single look.

And even though my dating history is extremely short, I’ve never reacted this way to anyone before.

“I’m going to the library to study,” I tell Sydney. “I’ll meet you back at the dorm later.” I give her a quick kiss on the cheek and make a run for it before she can ask any more questions.

Getting to the library, I unpack my bag and place my books on the table. I’ve put myself in a corner by the window, rows of bookcases surrounding me and shutting me off from everyone.

Lost in my assignment, I jump when the chair in front of me moves, and someone sits down. I peer up, annoyed that someone would disturb me, only to find Caleb eyeing me.

I put my pen down and lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. “You shouldn’t be here,” I tell him .

He gives me a teasing smile. “I just came to check on how your assignment was coming along,” he replies.

I exhale slowly. “Caleb, we can’t be seen together. What if someone were to say something?” I sit forward, frantically searching the library to see if anyone’s looking our way.

“I’m a professor talking to my student, just as I would in my office, Lauren.” Caleb brings his hand to his mouth to hide his smirk. “Call it this week’s session.”

I sigh and run a hand through my hair, thinking better of it and putting it up in a ponytail. Caleb watches me, his gaze darkening with my movements and staring at my neck for far longer than he should.

He leans back, sprawling out in the chair, arms wide in a relaxed pose. “I read your file. You have a photographic memory.” He states this as fact, rather than asking. “Why didn’t you get through school earlier? I would have thought you’d have been fast tracked.”

Sighing, I place my head on my hand and gaze out the window. “They didn’t know. They knew I was good, but I kept it quiet. I didn’t want the hassle of people looking into my home life.”

“Why not?” he questions, his voice sounding genuinely confused as to why I’d kept it a secret. I glance back at him, his blue eyes drawing me in, begging me to spill my deepest, darkest secrets. But I can’t, so I go with vague.

“My home life was… less than desirable shall we say. I kept my ‘episodes’ to a minimum as best as I could and kept my head down.”

He looks thoughtful, before saying, “That must have been very lonely.”

“It is what it is.” I shrug. “What about you? How did you end up as a professor here?”

“I ended a relationship and needed a fresh start.” He shrugs, as if that’s answer enough .

I know I shouldn’t be interested. I know I shouldn’t ask my next question, but I do anyway. “What happened?”

“We weren’t right for each other.” Caleb shifts slightly in his chair and clears his throat. “I applied for the job and never looked back.”

“Would you ever go back? To where you’re originally from, I mean?” I’m curious about him. What makes him tick, what makes him… him .

“No, I have nothing there. My only real family are my friends, and they slowly followed me out here. Noah’s a high school teacher.

Theo’s a lawyer and James is… I don’t actually know what James does, I just know he’s a corporate douche.

” He smiles as he talks about them, his face lighting up, and causing flutters to appear in my stomach.

No, Lauren. Stop.

A comfortable silence descends around us when the librarian, Mrs. Rose, comes over, whispering, “Professor Anderson, I’m sorry to bother you but I’m having some trouble with the printer. Would you be able to help me?”

Mrs. Rose is an elderly woman who, from what I’ve heard, has been here since she left college. She’s as tall as I am—meaning not tall at all—with her greying hair pulled back into a severe looking bun, and her dress hanging off her thin frame.

Caleb stands up and turns toward Mrs. Rose. “Of course, Moira.” Tapping the table with his knuckles, he glances back at me and softly says, “I’ll see you same time next week?”

I nod, wanting him to stay, wanting to talk to him more but knowing we can’t. All I know is that no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to shake Caleb Anderson.