Page 34 of Teach Me

The cold air hit me as soon as I stepped outside, a welcome chill against the heat lingering underneath my skin.

I drove home with the image of Cameron stroking his shaft carved in my mind’s eye, resurfacing at every stop light and stop sign.

Once at home, I stepped into a hot shower, as if I could sear away the intensity of my desire for him, wishing that every drop of water cascading over me might dilute the sense of longing. But it only seemed to exacerbate the memory of his electric gaze and the hard planes of his body, his goddamn smile and our teasing banter, how he’d bucked into my touch, and the open-mouthed moans as we’d come together outside the library.

I leaned against the tile, groaning as I ran my hands through my hair, pulling gently at the roots while I throbbed with unfulfilled wants that grew more difficult to ignore each day.

In frustration, I turned the cold tap on full blast and stood under the deluge until every thought in my mind evaporated beneath a shock of icy spray.

When I finally crawled into bed, I left my phone on my dresser, far out of reach of the temptation to reread our messages and watch his video over and over again.

17

GRADY

“The department really needs to get its act together,” Marina groused. “Ever since Loy was brought on, it’s been a mess.”

I murmured an agreement, my gaze straying across the quad to a trio of guys walking toward the social sciences building. The air was crisp but warm enough for the shorts Cameron was wearing along with a long-sleeved henley. The brilliant sunlight turned the blond of his hair to a molten white gold. The guys walking with him were dressed similarly, and the taller blond, Nate, reached behind Cameron to smack the ass of a dark-haired guy on the other side of him, who smirked before making the eyes-on-you gesture and peeling off to head toward the engineering building. Cameron and Nate laughed, his teeth flashing, smile achingly big and bright. Christ, I missed that smile aimed my way, missed how he’d lean against the booth at the cafe, coffeepot half-forgotten in his hands as we chattered.

The restless night I’d spent tossing and turning was already catching up to me. Levi Barkin jostled my elbow, sending a small splash of steaming coffee through the hole in the top, the sting yanking me from my daze.

“So what do you think?” Barkin asked, and I scrambled to put together the conversation I’d absorbed but hadn’t been paying attention to. I sucked the drip of coffee from my thumb. “I think someone should speak up, sure. But probably better for one of the longer tenures if we can get one on board. Marina and I are too new to go making waves.”

She nodded an agreement, and I ticked my head toward the building Cameron had disappeared into. “I’ve gotta run to class. Regroup and discuss more later?”

It was harderthan one would think to avoid looking at a specific section of the lecture hall. I managed, barely, and wasn’t sure whether I was imagining the sensation of Cameron’s stare boring into me or not. Even if it was, I was the one giving the lecture, after all. Still, I’d stumbled a couple of times and could only blame the low simmer of heat in my gut and the cloying reveries of him that had consumed me last night.

I was almost certain I spent more time watching the clock than the students, just to keep from straying to Cameron too often. After ending the lecture ten minutes early, I picked up the stack of essays that had been due the previous week. “Remember that your grade will also be posted on the online portal. Any questions, you know the drill: I’ve got office hours until 5:30 today. Come up when you hear your name called. Once you’ve got your essay, you’re free to leave.”

Despite the lurid message I’d received the night before, when Cameron approached to receive his essay, his “thanks” as I handed it to him was as casually polite as the rest of my students. Before I could consider saying more, he was striding out the door.

I watched him go with a frown, and once I was done handing out the essays and back in my office, I picked up my phone, opened our text thread, and sent him a message I had no idea whether he would respond to or ignore.

Grady:I’d like to speak to you. Could you come to my office around 6?

We needed to talk, needed to establish some sort of truce.

At 5:40, I began packing up my stuff for the day. I’d had three football players in who were dissatisfied with their grades, one weeper who’d wanted to know if there would be opportunities for extra credit and instantly perked up when I said it was likely, one trust-fund type who wanted to debate semantics over some of the comments left on his essay, and one student whose purpose in my office I’d not been able to definitively discern. I wanted a glass of whiskey, a comfy chair, and a book.

No, there were other things I wanted more, but I couldn’t have them.

I slid my laptop into my bag and sank back into my desk chair, kneading the spot between my eyebrows.

At 6:00 on the dot, a soft knock sounded on my door, and I bolted upright. “Come in.”

Cameron entered, shutting the door behind him and lingering there like he had the last time.

“Your essay was fantastic. Much improved.” It was a soft opening. One I was sure he could see through, but his lips twisted in a polite smile.

“Thanks.”

I cleared my throat and gestured toward the chairs. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Cameron approached my desk, letting his backpack slide from his shoulder to the floor, then fiddled with the wood lip of my desk, drawing my gaze to twitch of his thumb back and forth over it.

“You can sit.”

He glanced over his shoulder before shrugging. “I’m good here. I haven’t seen you at the cafe lately. Was my service that bad last time, or are you avoiding me?”