Page 4 of Tempt Me

I plastered on my fakest smile and agreed. “Yes, the luckiest in the whole world. That’s me, lucky.”

Glancing down at my watch, I saw the time…I was running late to my fucking class.

Great. Time for ‘Psychology: Into the mind.’

Stepping into the classroom, I tried to sneak toward the back while a voice droned on about introductions.

‘Blah…Blah…Blah…’

“Ah…class. Here is another example of one of the rules not tolerated in my classroom.” I halted. “Being punctual is required. If you are late to class, you can consider that your seal of failure.”

Rolling my eyes, I found an empty seat in the back. I dropped my bag on the floor with a loud thud, wincing at the sound, and slowly moved my gaze up to the front of the class. There was a female standing there. She was short and had dark, curly brownhair. Rummaging around in my bag, I pulled out the book for class and…I didn’t have a fucking pen.

“Late and unprepared? Naughty girl.”

My breath caught in my throat as I glanced at the pen extended toward me. That voice. The husky melodic tone.

Locking his eyes with mine beside me was the man from the cemetery—the dangerous stranger. His words swirled around in my ears, my body heating in the places he had touched me before when he pushed me against that gravestone.

Lucky for you, I enjoyed the show.

Glaring at his crystalline green eyes, I held back my sigh. “Uhh…what the hell are you doing here? Trying to learn how not to stalk twenty-year-olds in cemeteries?”

He smiled in response, a knowing glimmer in his eyes. I studied his desk. He wanted to call me out for being unprepared, yet he didn’t even have a bookbag.

The pretty teacher at the front turned her body to face us all, looking mostly at the man sitting beside me.

Did they know each other?

“And lastly, class. The most important thing about psychology is observation. Your real professor has been among you this whole time as I have read over your rules and expectations, observing all your reactions and mannerisms.”

Gasps and hushed whispers started around me, but that prick just kept smiling.

“Class, I would like you to meet your instructor for this course. Professor Masters.”

Everyone swiveled their heads around, searching for the snake in the class, but I laughed out loud when their eyes landed on me. That was…until the man beside me stood up, his giant form looming over my desk, creating a shadow.

He was my professor?

Slapping my mouth shut, I glanced around the room. Damn, you could catch flies with all the open mouths in the room. He walked to the front of the class and put on a lanyard with his smiling, smug face plastered on the front.

I glared at him. It figured that I would be forced to take a class with this weirdo.

An odd sense of foreboding washed over me as if I was in the graveyard. Catching his gaze, I smiled sweetly.

You want a show, Professor?Just wait.

Three

Coincidence: A remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparentcausalconnection.

Remarkable indeed…

“Ms. Summers, stay after class, please.” I cleared my throat, a few idiots already using my lapse in continued conversation to start chattering about mindless bullshit.

The fiery little strawberry blonde threw me a look over her shoulder but didn’t respond. I walked to the back of the class. Quiet murmurs followed me as I made my way through the desks. She did not notice me. She shoved her nose in my classroom textbook, jotting some scribbled notes on my syllabus.

Diligent little thing, isn’t she?