Page 13 of Broken Beauty (Beauty 3)
Okay, she was stalling. Because Blake was looking at her curiously and she couldn’t face him at this exact moment, not with the other students between them. His stare was a force pulling her toward him, a question she felt compelled to answer. Finally a new student entered, and he turned his attention away. She felt a corresponding chill at the loss.
She’d practically sprinted from meeting with her advisor, hoping she could make it here before anyone else and wish Blake luck. She’d skidded to a halt, out of breath, when she heard Professor Jenkins’s voice inside with him. It had sounded, in that smattering of words, as if she’d asked him to the faculty ball. And he’d accepted.
Even though she knew he wouldn’t do that to her.
Finding them together, she’d flashed back to that night she’d seen the woman at Blake’s house. And gotten a resurgence of that same old anger. Even after Professor Jenkins had stormed out, looking pretty angry in her own right, Erin had remained in the hallway. She didn’t want him to see her this way. She trusted that when she heard the full story, everything would be fine. But in the meantime, all she felt was sad.
Only when two other students went inside had she been able to stroll inside and pretend indifference.
Someone took the seat next to her. She glanced up. A smiling face.
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he said. “Good to see a familiar face, though.”
She smiled. “Jeremy. Didn’t I see you outside Dr. Miller’s office?”
“I meant to catch you after, but you left so quickly.”
She blushed, thinking of exactly who she’d been in such a rush to see. “Didn’t want to be late. First day and all.”
“What’s the deal with this guy?” he asked, and it took her a minute to register he was talking about Blake. Professor Morris, she reminded herself.
“What about him?”
“His face, for one thing.” When she scowled, he quickly continued. “And where did he come from? This is an advanced level class. I can’t believe they gave it to a new adjunct professor.”
“It probably means they have a lot of faith in him.” The defensiveness surprised her. She’d have to watch that if she didn’t want people guessing they had something going on.
Jeremy looked at her speculatively. “Sure. Whatever.” He pulled out a laptop and plugged in to the wall behi
nd them. “Besides, only one more semester and I’m out of here.”
She grinned. Now that she could relate to. “Me too.”
“Man, I can’t wait. I’m so done with this place.”
She was right there with him. With her degree, she would finally be able to support herself on more than loans. She’d finally be able to afford more than a shared, crappy apartment. Could she really blame Blake for speaking to Professor Jenkins or wanting to see her outside of work hours? She was his equal. Erin wanted that too.
She sneaked a glance at him. He’d gone back to his desk and opened his briefcase. The papers inside looked crumpled and disorganized. That was unlike him.
Distantly a buzz signaled the start of class. The newer buildings didn’t have bells, but this was one of the more historical buildings on campus, which meant the furniture was all scratched up and the A/C was constantly on the fritz. The low hum of conversation fell into silent expectation. Blake set down the papers and came around the desk empty-handed. He turned one of the chairs around and straddled it.
In a way, meeting them all as equals.
Her heart softened. It must have been hard for him to face everyone on the same level, without the shield or props that most professors used, even ones without scars. But he wasn’t showing any nervousness. He looked calm, competent. Like an experienced professor instead of a man who’d been ripped apart, physically and emotionally. Like a soldier.
He introduced himself as Professor Morris but call me Blake. She smiled at that. He’d said something similar to her at the beginning when she’d showed up to clean his house, though it had been Mr. Morris. Back then, she’d instinctively resisted, recognizing that intimacy between them could grow like wildfire. So he was always Mr. Morris to her…until they’d slept together.
Now he was Blake.
He spoke with a smooth baritone, easy to hear and understand as he went over the tenets of the class, the schedule and the research paper that would account for the bulk of their grade. Everyone, including Erin, scribbled down the information.
“Okay, let’s get down to business. I’m told the class textbook was listed with the enrollment information.”
She’d been the one to tell him that. In his day, they’d only gotten that information on the first day of class. That was how he’d said it too—in my day. She had laughed. As if he was ancient instead of just ten years older.
She pulled out her textbook along with the rest of the class. The books lay in a circle on the table, unopened.
He paused for a moment, as if thinking.
