Dear Professor(13)

The door opened, and Jenna appeared. “You ready to go?” Her eyes combed over me. “You look like shit.”

“I feel it,” I answered honestly. I sat up and swung my legs off my bed. “I didn’t sleep well.”

“Are you getting sick?” She wrinkled her face up. “I don’t need a ride to class that badly.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, I’m not getting sick. It was just one of those nights. I couldn’t get comfortable.”

“Must be your period,” she summed up. “Week off for you.”

I nodded in agreement as I grabbed my oversized Coach purse and followed her out, but she was wrong. Not only because I was dreaming about fucking someone all night, but because my contraception meant I didn’t have periods.

Nobody ever made money by having to take a week off work every month, did they?

I dug my keys out of my purse and unlocked my car. Jenna got in the passenger’s side, throwing her own purse on the backseat. I set mine down next to hers and started the engine.

“Did you get all of your letters?”

I shook my head. “Keaton is still left.”

“Hmm. You think he’ll give it to you?”

Yeah, but not in the way you’re thinking.

I settled for shrugging and turned the radio up. She got the message, thankfully, and didn’t ask me any more questions. Thank God for that. I was going to go insane if I had to answer any more of her questions, and she’d only asked me a handful of them.#p#分页标题#e#

What could I say? I was a grumpy motherfucker if I didn’t get sleep.

I pulled into the campus parking lot and got out. I grabbed my purse from the backseat and locked the car as soon as Jenna was out. I had approximately two hours to go until my class with Keaton, which meant I had three and a half to make my decision.

I was ninety percent sure I’d already made it, but that other ten percent was one hell of a little bastard.





My law class passed as though someone had pushed the slow-mo button. It seemed to last for twelve hours instead of the one and a half.

Now, I was walking to history, and I had zero expectations for my output this particular day. I knew that it was all going to go to shit the second Professor Keaton walked through the door. I was ready for him though. My loins were girded, and my attitude was switched onto “fuck yeah, fuck you” mode. It was the only way I’d get through the lesson with my sanity intact.

Whatever was left of it, that was.

I dropped into my seat and slumped forward. I buried my face in my arms and didn’t move until I felt Jake hit me over the back of the head.

“What?” I muttered.

“Someone up too late?”

“Fuck off.” I forced myself to sit up and wiped the hair from my face. “What is it with everyone today? I slept badly. I do that, you know.”

“Really? The queen of beauty sleep has nights where insomnia strikes?”

I glared at him, but the grin on his face had me giving in instantly. I was sure that, if I hadn’t turned to being a brokenhearted cam girl freshman year, I would have dated him the second he’d asked. I loved the hell out of him, but not in the blood-flaring way. In the hey-this-guy-was-an-ass-go-beat-him-up way.

The door slammed shut, and Jake dropped his ass to the chair as though he’d been shot at and was dodging the bullet. The chill in the air that accompanied Professor Keaton’s arrival was prevalent, and it took every ounce of strength I had in my body to look up and to the front of the room the way he demanded.

Except my eyes had a mind of their own. They didn’t look front. No siree. They looked right at him. At his well-fitting suit that stretched across his broad shoulders, at the electrifying, blue eyes currently behind his black-framed glasses, and the dark stubble that lined his sharp jaw.

He was so handsome that he had to be the devil incarnate.

The evidence pointed to it, after all.

“I have to express my disappointment at the overall grades of this class.” His words were sharp, and there was no doubting that he was telling the truth. Each syllable he spoke sliced through the air with the precision of sniper’s bullet. “B-minus. I expected more.” His eyes swept over every single of us. “Only four of you succeeded in securing a grade higher than an A-minus. Miss Dawson, Mr. Lawrence, Miss Erins, and Miss Hamilton.” His eyes lingered on me a second longer than everyone else. “And Miss Hamilton was the only person to score an A-plus.” He slammed the stack of papers down on his desk and flattened his hands on either side of them. His arms bulged against his jacket as he leaned forward, and I wanted to slap myself silly for having noticed something so trivial. “Anyone have an excuse as to what went wrong?”