Landon sat at the small dining room table, his music theory textbook and notes strewn about. His head lay on the text, as though he could absorb the information through osmosis. Royce stood at the stove, stirring the simmering Alfredo sauce.
Landon gave a moan. His head hurt and his stomach growled.
“Landon, just put it away,” Royce said. “You can talk to Carson about it tomorrow. Or go see your professor during his office hours. The assignment isn’t due until Friday, right?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Landon mumbled, lifting his head and closing the book. He packed his things into his backpack. “Who assigns homework the first day of class? I should have been a biology major like you. That way you could help me with my homework.”
“Ha,” Royce said, amused. “You would have hated every minute of it.”
“Yeah,” Landon said with a grin. “But I would have an A.”
“Dinner is almost ready. Go put your stuff away.”
“Yes, dad,” Landon said. He carried his backpack to the bedroom furthest down the hall.
They had lucked out with the two bedroom, two bathroom apartment they found two years ago. Royce had refused to share a bathroom with Landon, being the neat-freak that he was. It had made apartment hunting a bit more difficult than they had anticipated. But they had found one with a on-suite master bath and a full bath in the hallway. Royce let Landon have the master, preferring the full bathroom. It was a bonus that Royce always kept that bathroom clean, just in case unexpected guests stopped by. Landon’s tended to become a disaster zone toward the end of a semester.
Right now, Landon’s room was the cleanest it had been in a while. Not surprising since he came back into town only a week ago. His double-sized bed was donned with rumpled blue sheets and an orange comforter. A large painting of a jazz ensemble in a smoky club hung above his bed. The trumpet player bore a striking resemblance to Landon. His friend, Sam, a graduated Art major, had painted it for an art final the previous semester. Landon had fallen in love with it the moment he saw it. Sam had the painting framed and surprised Landon with it as a gift after that semester was over. Landon had hung it above his bed that night.
Landon smiled at the painting as he tossed his backpack on his bed. Seeing the ensemble performing their music always gave him a boost of motivation. He believed that could be him one day. Turning around, Landon headed back to the dining room.
Royce placed two heaping plates of fettuccine on the table as Landon walked in.
“Smells delicious,” Landon said, taking the seat opposite Royce. They found the small four-person table at a garage sale with only three chairs, but couldn’t pass it up for the price. Royce had proclaimed it perfect and it sat against the wall, the three chairs surrounding it.
“Thanks!” Royce took his own seat and began to twirl the pasta on his fork. “Now, talk.”
Landon gave a grunt, his mouth already full of food. He pointed at his mouth and made a funny face. Royce laughed.
“At your convenience, of course,” he said, taking a bite.
Landon took his time, wondering how to begin.
Begin at the beginning, right?
“So,” he said, swallowing his mouthful. “As you know, I met the most gorgeous guy at Grinder’s this morning. Totally the tall, dark and handsome type. His name is Derek.”
Royce eyes widened, a grin emerging on his face. He pumped a fist into the air. “Yes! What’s his major? How old is he? When are you guys hooking up? Is it too soon to invite him over so I can meet him?”
Landon rolled his eyes. “You know I don’t date. I’m too busy for all that drama. Besides,” Landon rolled more pasta onto his fork. “He’s also my new Music Theory professor.” Landon stuffed the pasta into his mouth.
“What?” Landon winced at Royce’s shout. “Professor-I’m-Going-To-Assign-Homework-on-the-first-day-of-classes? That guy?”
Landon nodded, mouth still full.
“You know, only you would fall for your professor,” Royce said. “Always did go for the unattainable ones.”
“I’m not falling for anybody, especially my professor,” Landon said, swallowing his food.
“Uh huh,” Royce said, his tone dry and disbelieving. “Tell me how hot he was again?”
Landon threw a piece of chicken at Royce. Then he leaned his elbows against the table, resting his head in his hands. He gave a huge, frustrated sigh.
“You should see him, Royce. Easy ten out of ten. He has black hair and these huge dark eyes. They might be brown, but I can’t tell. He has the palest skin I’ve ever seen. Tall, thin, but not scary-thin. Muscular-thin. His clothes even fit him perfectly. His ass…” Landon sighed again at the memory. “He flirted with me at the coffee shop, too.”
“He flirted with you?” Royce asked, his eyebrows raised. “He didn’t know you were a student?”
Landon shrugged as he leaned back and picked his fork up. “No idea. If he did, he probably thought I wouldn’t be his student. Guess we were both in for a surprise today.”
Royce reached across the table and grabbed Landon’s hand, stilling the fork.
“Landon,” he said, then paused. Waiting. Landon looked up and met his friend’s green eyes. “Seriously. You’re not going to do anything with this guy, right? I don’t want you getting in trouble.”
“No,” Landon said, shaking his head. “No way. I still have three years left. I’d be an idiot to ruin my academic career now just because I find my professor good looking.”
Royce nodded, pulling his hand back.
“Good. You’re not an idiot, despite what you may look like.”
“Hey!”
Royce laughed and stood from the table.
“It’s your turn to do dishes. Hurry up or I’m starting the next episode of Top Gear without you.”
The next morning found Landon in the music lobby. He was once again trying complete his Theory homework. He had cornered Carson, asking if he had a few minutes to try to help him.
“This isn’t making any sense to me,” Landon said on a groan. His head fell back against the couch cushions. Looking to his left, he watched as Carson continue to work.
Carson frowned. “What’s confusing you?” he asked without looking up.
Landon rolled his head back up and looked at the ceiling. He pitched his voice low, a mocking representation of Derek’s. “You can use this chord in this specific set of circumstances, except when you can’t. And oh, don’t forget about this rule and that rule.” He gave a small smile as Carson snickered. “I don’t understand why these rules are in place to begin with. Who decided it had to be this way?”
“Bach,” came Carson’s deadpan answer.
“That was rhetorical,” Landon shot back.
Laughter met Landon’s ears. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. But really, try to not overthink it. I don’t think about the reasons, I just follow the rules. It’s like algebra or geometry to me.”
Landon winced and shut his eyes. He had never been that great at math either. A headache was beginning to form behind his left eye.
“Seriously, man,” Carson continued. “You know Derek has office hours in fifteen minutes. You should go ask him for help.”
Landon tensed. He kept his eyes shut, hoping Carson wouldn’t notice.
He knew he needed help with the class. But he also needed to avoid being alone with Derek. Especially after yesterday’s rehearsal and its aftermath. Landon could admit that everything about Derek appealed to him. If Derek hadn’t been his professor, Landon could see himself risking everything for a chance with him.
It was just as well Derek was his professor. Landon didn’t want to expose himself to that kind of pain ever again.
“Just go, man,” Carson said, interrupting Landon’s thoughts. “What’s it going to hurt? He seems nice enough.”
Everything. It’s going to hurt everything.
Landon gritted his teeth together. He needed to pass this class. And if he was already struggling by the second day of the semester, he was going to need all the help he could get.
“Alright, alright. I’ll go see him.”
This is a bad idea.
Landon gathered his books and stuffed them into his backpack. His stomach clenched with anticipation at seeing Derek again. He ignored the feeling as he stood and headed toward the stairs.
“Good luck,” Carson said from behind him. He waved in response.
The walk up the stairs and down the hall went by too fast. Landon found himself staring at Derek’s office door, a small paper plaque boasting:
Derek Serrano
Director of Bands and Orchestra
Oboe Instruction
The lights were on, indicating Derek was in his office. There were still a few minutes until his office hours began. Landon stared at the name. He flushing as he remembered how rude he had been to Derek yesterday after rehearsals.
He should probably start with an apology. He still thought Derek had been too hard on the trumpet section. But his grades in Theory mattered more than his opinion.
The door opened, startling Landon back a couple of steps. Wide dark eyes looked at him in surprise. Several beats passed in stunned silence, the two of them staring at one another. Landon couldn’t help but admire the way Derek’s hair fell against his forehead. He wondered what that hair would feel like against his fingers.
Derek cleared his throat, bringing Landon’s attention back to the present.
“Landon,” Derek said. “Sorry if I startled you. I was just going to get some water before I started office hours.” Derek lifted a hard plastic water bottle.
“Oh, right,” Landon said, lifting a hand to the back of his head. “Um, I wanted to apologize for the things I said after band yesterday. And I need some help with the Theory homework, please. When you get back.”
Derek stared at Landon for a few moments. Then he nodded and took a step back. He held the door open and gestured for Landon to step inside.
“Sure. You’re welcome to wait inside. Don’t snoop around,” Derek said with a slight smirk.
Landon flushed. That smirk was going to kill him. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel better knowing Derek was willing to tease him. And help with his homework. Landon forced a smile on his face and walked into the office.
“I’ll be right back,” Derek said. He left, leaving the door open.
The scent of old books and dusk enveloped Landon. There also seemed to be a warm hint of sandalwood and sweet vanilla on the air. Was that Derek’s scent? Landon inhaled deeply, committing it to memory.
The space was small. Landon marveled at how someone had squeezed an upright piano into the room. Music scores and text books stood organized in a bookcase on the adjacent wall. Derek’s desk was also clear and tidy. The only items visible were his laptop, the Theory textbook and a binder filled with lesson plans.
Landon made his way to the piano bench, the only other available seat in the room. He slid his backpack off his shoulders and placed it between his legs, pulling out his text and notebook. Hearing footsteps approaching, Landon glanced up as Derek reentered the office.
The light gray slacks and dark purple button-up clung to all the right places. Landon’s eyes lowered to Derek’s trim hips and waist. Landon envisioned sliding his hands over Derek’s waist. He wanted to grip those hips and haul him close. Landon blinked and looked back down to his notes. He hoped Derek hadn’t noticed his distraction.
Derek moved to his office chair, leaving the door open. Landon quietly released a relieved breath.
“Alright. What can I help you with?” Derek asked.
Landon’s eyes met Derek’s. Landon licked his lips before he realized what he was doing. A blush rushed up his neck and he quickly looked away.
“Ah, sorry. I mean, I’m sorry for the words I said yesterday afternoon. It was just frustration talking, but really, that’s a poor excuse for being rude. You would know what the band sounds like better than I,” he finished, feeling pretty lame.
“Apology accepted. I hope you realize that the band works together as a whole. I’m not focusing on any one individual section out of malicious intent.”
“No, of course not,” Landon said, his flush deepening. Landon knew this. He was a musician. He knew what it meant to be a part of a team.
“Good. Now that we’ve buried the hatchet, what can I help you with?”
That was easier than I thought it would be.
Derek’s professional demeanor put Landon at ease. It also was incredibly attractive. Landon wanted nothing more than to ruffle Derek’s perfect feathers. Just for a moment. Biting his tongue, Landon told himself to stop and be grateful.
“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but his is my second time taking the class. Theory doesn’t come easy for me,” Landon said.
Derek nodded. “I can understand that. No shame in it. Some of the best musicians can’t even read music.”
Landon smiled, appreciating the sentiment. “Wish that could be me, but alas. I need to figure this out or else I’m not going to graduate on time. I thought taking the class again would be easier. I even studied over the summer when I could. You’d think I would have remembered some of the material, but this just isn’t making any sense to me.”
“It probably doesn’t help that you have a new professor,” Derek said, giving a sympathetic smile. Landon couldn’t help but stare at his perfect lips. A slight hint of stubble made Landon’s heart give a hard thud.
Get a grip!
Derek was still talking, but Landon hadn’t been listening.
“What?” he asked, a new flush rushing up his neck. At this rate, he was going to pass out in Derek’s office.
Derek’s smile turned into a knowing smirk. His eyes filled with the secrets between them. In the next instant, Derek cleared his throat and glanced away. Landon felt the world spin around him. When Derek turned back, his face was a blank mask once again.
What was that?
“I was saying, even though I’m following Cindy’s lesson plans, I do have a different style of teaching than she does. That may be why you’re struggling.”
Landon nodded, unable to speak. He wanted that look back.
No. No, he didn’t.
God, this was such a mess. Couldn’t his Theory professor be anybody else?
He should leave. Being in the same room with Derek was too much of a distraction.
But he needed to pass this class.
“Landon?” Derek asked, rousing Landon from his internal melt down. “Are you alright?”
Landon knew Derek was asking more than the simple question. He wanted to make sure Landon was going to be alright with him as the professor.
Landon looked down at the notebook clenched between his hands. His education was the most important thing to him. His attraction to Derek was only a stumbling block. One he needed to overcome.
“Yeah,” Landon said. “I’m fine. Sorry, it’s been a long week already.”
“Tell me about it,” Derek said with a soft laugh. Landon tensed, his hands wringing against the notebook.
Focus.
“I was saying, you’re not the only one struggling. I’ll let you in on a secret. I know Theory very well, but I’m teaching a brand new class with less than a week’s notice. None of the lesson plans are mine and I’m playing the world’s worst game of catch up. It’s proving to be quite a challenge.”
Landon gaped up at Derek. “Really? Man, that sucks.”
“Tell me about it. Now,” Derek said, rolling his chair closer. “What are you struggling with?”
The next half hour turned into an exercise in will power for Landon. Derek leaned close at almost every opportunity, pointing to Landon’s notes or textbook. At one point, Derek even took Landon’s pencil out of his hands and wrote a few notes in his notebook. Landon couldn’t stop staring at Derek’s neat, small handwriting. Their hands brushed more than a few times. Each time, Landon found himself wishing for longer contact.
But somehow, despite all the distraction, Landon found himself finally understanding.
“Oh!” Landon jotted down a couple more notes of his own. “I see! Thank you!” Relief filled him and his face broke out into a wide grin as he looked up to Derek.
Tension spiked between them. Landon’s grin slowly fell as Derek leaned forward. Anticipation buzzed through Landon as the distance between them disappeared. Up close, Landon realized Derek’s eyes were an incredibly dark shade of brown. Landon wanted to lose himself in them for hours. Unable to hold back any longer, Landon leaned forward to meet Derek halfway.
Landon gently brushed his lips against Derek’s, reveling in their soft, smooth texture. He could feel Derek’s lips moving in response. Sparks shot through Landon, making him gasp. The sweet scent of vanilla and sandalwood grew sharper. The scent was Derek’s. Landon felt Derek’s strong, thin fingers thread into his hair, pulling him closer. Then the kiss changed. Hot pressure from Derek’s lips pushed Landon’s mouth open, his tongue already seeking Landon’s. Landon lifted his own hands to grip Derek’s trim waist.
A sharp slam of a locker and boisterous laughter echoed down the hall and into the office. Landon froze, eyes shooting wide open. Derek reared back, rolling his chair as far back as it would go. He pressed his lips together into a thin line and stared out the small window.
Landon picked up the notebook that had fallen to the floor. He tucked it and his textbook back into his backpack. Standing, he cleared his throat. Derek wouldn’t look at him.
“Uh, thanks again for the help. I’ll catch you later.” Landon headed to the door, needing to get out. Needing fresh air. He needed to get away from the man before he did something he regretted.