Page 29 of Secret Obsession
He sets his things down on his desk and pulls a folded envelope from his briefcase. “I request changes to my roster be printed because I’m dreadful with technology. But I received this today with your name on it from your academic advisor.”
He hands it to me.
I open it, my brow furrowing. It’s a notice of a class change. And sure enough, when I pull up my schedule in the portal, it’s registered there, too.
New class?
Drawing 101, right down the hall. And it started ten minutes ago.
“Professor, with all due respect, I had no idea about this. Can I just—”
“Stay?” He tuts. “Unfortunately, this class is pretty competitive. Your spot has already been filled. I’m sorry, Ms. Reed.”
My chest tightens. I was looking forward to painting a stupid bowl of fruit. And now I’m late to a class that I’m ill prepared for.
“Gather your stuff, I’ll walk you there,” he says. Still sympathetic—or maybe just plain pitying.
I mean, he kind of blindsided me here.
I nod, trying to ignore the lump in my throat, and collect my charcoal, the paints that I luckily hadn’t opened yet, my untouched palette. I stuff it all into my bag and follow him out the door. The drawing class is literally right around the corner, and he steps in with me right behind him.
This class seems similarly set up, everyone’s easels at an angle so they can see the center.
The professor spots her colleague and approaches. Her steel-gray hair is loose and curling around her face, and her skin is flawless. The gray is either an intentional choice or premature, because she doesn’t look older than forty.
“Willow Reed?” she asks me.
I nod once.
“Ms. Reed seemed to have forgotten about the switch,” my painting professor says. “Perhaps the registrar didn’t confirm the change.”
“No matter. Welcome, Willow. I’m Professor Hixby.”
“Nice to meet you,” I murmur.
She guides me in. “We’re working on capturing motion today. The class was about to pair up and draw their partner. I had planned on working with a student due to the odd number, but you can take my spot.” She stops at an easel. “Here you are. I have an extra syllabus printed, as well as materials you’ll be required to have for class.”
“Great.” I take a seat on the stool, eyeing the work on the paper that Professor Hixby must’ve done to demonstrate, then turn my attention to my partner.
And almost fall off the stool.
Miles tilts his head. “Surprised to see me?”
“You take a drawing class?”
My jaw works, and my mind races to put two and two together. He has an elective—obviously. He knew my schedule, since he forced me to give it to him at the beginning of the week. Of course, I crammed it with as much shit that I could in an effort to keep myself looking busy. It was almost too perfect how he managed to switch my classes. But he wouldn’t have been able to do that without someone signing off on it.
“Did you bribe my advisor?” I hiss.
He grins. “Me? Now, why would I do that?”
“This,” I motion between us, “is forcing me to spend time with you.”
“No, if I wanted to force you to spend time with me, I’d tie you up and keep you in my room like a good little pet.” He leans in, his eyes gleaming. “I’d cut off your clothes and make you kneel at my feet as I did my homework, with a gag in your mouth and your wrists bound behind your back. Maybe I’d put a vibrator in your pussy and watch you squirm and see how far I could push you before you begged for just a little more…pressure.”
My mouth is hanging open.
Not because I didn’t expect Miles Whiteshaw to be filthy-mouthed.
