Monday morning classes are fucking torturous. I don’t know why we even have them, same goes with Fridays. The students are fucking zombies on Mondays, and they try to skip Fridays. I’m kind of an ass, I always have big assignments due on Fridays to keep my attendance up.

Today I decide to lecture as I walk through the aisles of the auditorium. We’re only in week three of classes and I can already tell that these kids are zoning out. A few have already dropped out, and I anticipate about a quarter more won’t make it to midterms.

I’m climbing the stairs on the left side of the class when my eye catches a long sheet of black hair. My mouth continues to move as I lecture but my feet have frozen solid. I wonder if it’s the girl from the club? It’s been a few weeks, but that long dark, glossy hair I could never forget. She glances up at me and I hold back a groan.

It’s her, it has to be.

Her eyes are a little bloodshot, but other than that, she looks absolutely gorgeous. I watch as she bites her bottom lip and tips her head back a little more. Her eyes are a pretty dark caramel color and they widen as I continue to stare at her. I watch as her cheeks tint pink and I smirk. Forcing myself to continue on my path, I leave her.

I need to know her name. I need to get to my roster so I can check and see who sits in her seat. I can’t believe that I’ve never seen her before. Then a pang of sadness washes over me. It doesn’t matter what her name is because I can’t have her. My policy, as is the school’s policy, is that I cannot engage in a relationship with one of my own students.

I continue on with my lecture for another fifteen minutes, thankful when my watch alarm signals that it is now time for class to end. I dismiss the students and make my way back to my desk to gather my own materials.

Without even thinking, I glance down at my seating chart and count ten rows up, all the way to the left, the chair at the end. Ines Nazario. I close my eyes for just a moment and imagine her. She’s got dark olive skin, and black hair, pink cheeks, and caramel colored eyes. Even without having looked at her body today, I know from seeing her at the club that she’s got dangerous curves. She’s like no woman I’ve ever been attracted to before, and yet, I feel like she could consume me—she already has.

I throw my shit in my briefcase and head out of the classroom. I need some lunch, and to calm the fuck down. Nothing, absolutely nothing can happen between me and Ines. She’s my student. I hurry toward a little café right across from campus and order my favorite sandwich and potato salad to take back to my desk.

Once I’m settled in for my office hours, I eat and grade papers from one of my more advanced classes. I try as hard as I can to focus on the papers, on the math and words on the pages and yet, my mind keeps drifting back to that sable-haired beauty, who now has a name.

A knock on my office door breaks my train of thought, and I’m glad for it. I don’t need to obsess over some young girl, not when my life is such a fucking disaster. I call out for whoever is on the other side to come in. The door opens slowly, and my cock stands at attention.

Ines walks in. It’s like every vision I dreamed for the last few weeks. She’s wearing a skin-tight tank top that shows off every fucking inch of her full tits. My mouth waters at the sight of them, just the thought of putting my mouth on her there, makes it hard to sit in my seat. I have to have her.

“Can I help you?” I grind out.

I probably sound like an ass, but I clench my fists together trying with everything that I am not to stand up, walk around my desk, and make her mine. Right here. Right now. I’ve never felt this way about a stranger before in my entire life.

“I-I, I wanted to talk to you about my grade on this ancient astronomy assignment,” she whispers.

Her voice is deep and raspy, with a hint of an accent. Her cheeks turn pink and I lick my lips, trying to keep from jumping over my desk to get to her.

My cock presses against my pant zipper even harder. I clear my throat, and lift my chin, to the seat in front of me. She lays her paper down and I reach for it. I cringe at the grade I gave her, a sixty-percent. Fuck, that sucks. I glance over the words that she wrote and I shake my head.

“It’s not that the concept is necessarily off base,” I begin to explain. “It’s more that you don’t grasp the format of writing a paper, and your grammar is completely juvenile. You’ve missed commas, and then added commas where they don’t belong. You have run-on sentences and incomplete sentences.”

I hear what sounds like a sniffle, and I look up to her, surprised to see that she’s crying. Normally, I would tell a student to grow a thicker skin, but the sight of her pretty face stained with tears makes my heart ache. “Ines, maybe you should take an introductory English course?” I gently suggest.

She shakes her head. “I’m not an idiot. I swear I’m not. I’m just not very good at writing. I test well, and I’m okay with math, but I’m just not very good at writing assignments.”

I want to hold her, tell her that everything will be okay, but I know that I can’t. “I don’t offer help often, but how about this…” I begin, like a fucking idiot. “If you get your assignment done early enough. Say, you bring it to me on Wednesday when it’s due Friday, then I’ll edit it for you.”

Her eyes widen and her face lights up like a goddamn Christmas tree. Fuck. I would offer this for every single paper she has just to get this look of excitement from her again. “Seriously?” she breathes. I blink slowly, imagining that breathy, deep voice, sounding much the same if I were inside of her.

“Yeah,” I grunt, reopening my eyes.

I watch as she bounces slightly in her seat, her tits moving, and I can’t take my eyes off of them. Fuck, I’m an asshole. “Thank you so much. I just had the worst weekend of my life, and you made my day,” she announces.

I look at her, wanting to ask her about her terrible weekend, but I don’t. She stands and turns toward the door, her hand wrapped around the handle. She twists her neck around and looks right at me. “Thank you, Professor Jacobson,” she murmurs huskily.

I dip my chin, in acknowledgment but I’m afraid to speak. Afraid that I’ll tell her to stay here, to lock the door and come over to me. It would be wrong. So fucking wrong. I watch as she licks her plump lips. “I’ll be here after class on Wednesday with my paper.” She pulls the door open and without another word she slips into the hall and walks away.

“Fuck,” I groan.

Once I walk out of Professor Jacobson’s office, I let out an exhale. It took everything I had to go in there and ask for help, then what he offered me was more than I could have imagined. When his blue eyes met mine, I swear I melted a little. It was a wonder that I could concentrate at all while he was that close to me.

He’s so much hotter up close. I still can’t tell his age, he’s probably older than I would guess but he’s aging spectacularly. His voice is deep and sexy, his eyes piercing blue. It was hard to even form sentences around him, being that close to him. I’m not sure my heart will be able to take it Wednesday.

Yesterday, I slept the entire day. Jessa wasn’t anywhere around, or if she was, I didn’t hear her. I didn’t leave my bed until class this morning. When I woke up, this morning, I downed three bottles of water. I feel tired and lethargic, but I’m alive. I have a feeling Alison gave me X, the bitch. Caffeine pills, my ass.

Hurrying toward my next class, I arrive a little early, so I start to go through my calendar. Tomorrow I have my history class and health class. I usually don’t have a lot of homework with those, so I decide to work for a couple hours this afternoon on my physics paper, then finish it up tomorrow after classes so that I have it ready for Wednesday.

I still can’t believe Professor Jacobson offered to help edit my paper for his class. I smile to myself, just thinking about being alone with him again. He is one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. I’m sure at his age he’s married, or in a relationship but that doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy the view.

The rest of the day goes by quickly, and I’m thankful because I’m exhausted. Instead of going back to my dorm room after my last class, I head to the library. I need to focus for just a few hours and try to get as much as I can, completed.

“Hey,” a soft voice calls, across from me. I look up and see my roommate, Jessa sitting there.

Offering her a smile, I say hey, back. “Have a rough Saturday? You slept all day long yesterday,” she points out.

I press my lips together, not wishing to get into just how rough, exactly, my Saturday was. I like Jessa, a lot, but I don’t want to burden her with my shit. I’m pretty certain she has enough of her own to deal with. She doesn’t need mine too.

We spend the next hour studying together. I find it’s easy to forget about what happened Saturday night when I have my books, and Jessa, in front of me. There’s something extremely calming about her presence and I’m glad for it.

“Hey, you want to do dinner?” I ask when we’re packing everything up.

She shakes her head. “I have to work tonight,” she sighs.

“Okay, that’s cool. I’ll see you tomorrow then? Maybe we can do a study duo again?”

She nods. “I would love that,” she agrees.

I wave goodbye and head toward the dining hall. I’m starving. I don’t remember the last time I ate, Saturday afternoon maybe? It doesn’t take me long to gather all my items and I find a table away from everyone else. It’s not very busy in here, and I’m grateful for it. I just want to eat, and then take my tired ass to bed. Maybe my dreams will be nice to me tonight, and I’ll have visions of Professor Jacobson all night long.

My phone rings when I’m taking the last bite of my chocolate cookie and I groan at the name on the Caller ID.

“Hey Mama,” I mutter, gathering all my trash and throwing it away.

She makes a harrumph sound. “Kosmo says you’ve talked to him, but you haven’t called me, once.” I close my eyes and imagine my mom. She has dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes, but she’s tired—exhausted really.

“I’m sorry, Mama. I’ve been really busy with the beginning of my classes. I’m still trying to get used to everything,” I halfway lie.

She asks me how I’m doing with my studies, then asks me about meeting new people, then she turns the conversation toward boys. “No, I haven’t met anyone,” I giggle walking into my bedroom.

“Don’t settle for some asshole like your sister, and me, did. I want you to find a good boy, from a good family. Find your slice of happiness,” she urges.

When she speaks, only one man’s face flashes through my mind and he’s definitely a man, not a boy. Professor Jacobson. I shiver at the thought of him. I won’t see him tomorrow, but Wednesday I’ll be alone with him again in his office. I’ll be so close to him that I’ll be able to smell his cologne again—so damn sexy.

“I will, Mama,” I mutter.

She talks to me for a few more minutes, catching me up on the family. Apparently, my dad showed up last week asking for money. Kosmo wasn’t around, thank goodness. My brother, Rio, was home though. She said he called the police and had him taken away.

I haven’t seen my father since I was a little girl, but he comes by the house every couple of years and begs for money. Nobody will let me see him, and I’m grateful for that. I really have no desire to. He’s a dead-beat piece of shit as far as I’m concerned.

“I’m glad Rio took care of it,” I murmur when she’s finished talking about him.

She sighs. “I wish you would have known him when we were younger, sweetheart. God, he was so handsome and romantic. I gave him my heart the moment I laid eyes on him.”

Romance doesn’t equal a good person, and maybe I’m jaded, but her description of him doesn’t make me want to know him anymore than I already do. I know that he left when my mom was in the hospital having me and didn’t come back for years. When he did return, it wasn’t to see me, or anybody else, it was for money. That pattern hasn’t changed once in eighteen years.

I know that my mom has worked her fingers to the bone, and so have my siblings, while he’s been off doing… whatever. No, there’s nothing she could tell me about the man that would make me the slightest bit sad that he left. He can stay gone forever for all I’m concerned.

“I have to go, Mama,” I lie.

She clears her throat. “Okay, now don’t be a stranger. Call me, often, please. I worry about you, my baby.” I agree to call her more often, then I end the call.

Climbing up to my bed, I lie down. My mom’s talk of my father has upset me a little. I love her, and he wronged her. I wish that she would forget about him and move on. I wish that she would be stronger and find a man who loves her for her. Who could help her and grow old with her. We’re all grown, there’s no reason for her not to find her happiness.

Rolling to my side, I look over at Jessa’s made bed. Maybe that’s why I hate Jessa’s asshole boyfriend so much? He’s terrible to her, he doesn’t help her, and he is not her happiness. I think all people should be with someone who enriches their life. Nobody should have to suffer at the hand of someone who is supposed to love and protect them, no matter what—emotional or physical.

I fall asleep in the middle of my thought, my body too exhausted to stay awake a moment longer.