Hot For Teacher(143)

“Hi. Welcome to History 1700, American Civilizations. I’m Dr. Anderson. I have an exciting year planned for all of you as we discuss some of the greatest moments in our nation’s history.”

A dainty hand shot up in the front row, drawing his gaze. Jake’s eyes followed the hand to its owner and almost dropped his notes. Damn. Since when did college coeds look like that? He was a teacher. He was a professional. But he wasn’t dead. And when the stunning brunette, with big doe-like eyes and long, flowing tresses, smiled at him with the most kissable lips he’d ever seen, it was his professionalism that became history.

He cleared his throat in an effort to mask his reaction and nodded in her direction with a tight-lipped smile. “Yes, Miss…?”

He would’ve sworn the brunette’s eyes danced with laughter at his discomfort.

“Bradshaw, Savannah Bradshaw.”

Jake’s heart stalled in his chest at the name. Savannah Bradshaw.

No way. Surely he’d recognize her. After all, his ex-best friend’s kid sister had followed the two of them around like a puppy dog for years. Hell, she’d practically been a sister to him. With a shitty excuse for a home life, he’d spent more time at their house than his own. The Bradshaws had welcomed him with open arms and given him the childhood he’d never dared imagine. Until the accident changed everything. Until Preston told him to go away and never come back.

The stunning young woman in front of him couldn’t possibly be Savannah. The Savannah he remembered was gangly and awkward, a tomboy with braided hair and scraped up knees. Playing the part of big brother, he’d kissed those knees countless times. One look at those long, smooth limbs, crossed primly beneath the skirt of her sundress, made it clear those knees could not be kissed so innocently anymore. And the thoughts running through his mind were far from brotherly. More importantly, they were far from teacherly. If he hoped to claim one of the coveted tenure-track positions, he needed to get his head on straight. And not that head.

He swallowed hard in an attempt to clear the tightness from his throat. He struggled to focus on her words as she questioned the necessity of the recommended supplementary texts. Jake mentally clapped himself on the back when he successfully formulated a coherent answer and managed to dive into the syllabus without missing a step.

An attractive coed was an irrelevant distraction, one easily overcome with as little as an ounce of professionalism. But a constant reminder of a past life lost, of sins long forgotten, was not so easily dismissed. It seemed fate had a cruel sense of humor. And some history was meant to be revisited, no matter how painful.

***

Dropping her weighted backpack onto the floor next to the small built-in desk, Savannah snagged the cordless phone from the cradle and punched in the all-too-familiar number before she could change her mind. Already bone-tired from a long first day of classes, the idea of phoning home was beyond exhausting. But, she needed to make the obligatory call, so she could focus on her assigned reading without the distracting guilt not calling would surely cause.

“Hey, Mom,” Savannah greeted flatly when her mother picked up on the sixth ring.

“Hey, Vanna. How was your first day?” Her mother’s voice sounded strained and distracted, as always. No surprise there. Yet, Savannah would get an earful the next time she called if she dared skip a week. Go figure.

“It was great,” she answered half-heartedly. Not that it wasn’t. She actually enjoyed all her classes. One in particular a bit more than expected. But her mom didn’t really care. It was small talk, nothing more. No point in throwing unnecessary enthusiasm around.

“That’s nice, honey,” her mother responded absently. Savannah would bet her entire undergraduate tuition that her mother would’ve replied the same way if she’d told her she’d burnt the math building down. Nothing.

“Um… do you remember Preston’s old friend, Jake?”

Silence on the other end. No more rustling as her mother multitasked. Not even the sound of her breathing. Nothing. Now her mother was listening. Odd.

Savannah opened her mouth to press the subject, but thought better of it. It was the first time her mother had shown any interest in anyone other than Preston since the accident. Best let her take the lead.

Her mother finally exhaled a long, ragged breath.

“Yes.” The word was spoken with caution, slow and drawn out, with a question mark at the end, as though her mother was about to tiptoe through a mine field blindfolded and wanted to know if she really had to.

Curiosity piqued, Savannah pressed on. “Well, he’s my history professor.”