The room is practically buzzing with excitement.

“Did you read his white paper on quantum mechanics?”

“I hear he sleeps with, like, twins, and stuff.”

“Dude, he doesn’t need twins. He has triplets.”

“And those electric cars? Like, he invented them?”

“Just the battery, dude.”

“I’d give my left nut to be him for, like, a day.”

“I’d give a blowjob to a porcupine.”

“I’d give a rimjob to a pig.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Whatever, dude. He’s amazing.”

Clara smiles to herself. The two douchey guys can’t stop gushing over their new professor, the famous tech billionaire, Jason Turner.

Every guy in this room wants to be him. He founded a mobile processing company before mobile was a thing and grew that company into a behemoth. He made so much money, he’s always on lists of the richest men in the world.

And now he’s teaching here, at a small college outside of Philadelphia called Monray.

We’re known for two things: having the best football team in the third division, and two bars across the street from each other that have the same exact name.

Basically, we’re just a tiny private college with not all that much going on. We’re in a suburb that’s too far from the city to make hanging out in Philly even possible, but not far enough away that people don’t try anyway.

I bite my lip and for the millionth time I wonder what Jason Turner is doing teaching at Monray. He could easily go to work at any big college in the freaking country. I mean, they’d line up to let him teach a computer science class like he is here.

But I guess it doesn’t matter why. All that matters is that I got into his class, which was a miracle in itself, since it filled up like two minutes after registration started.

I shift in my seat, glancing at the two guys again. One is heavyset with baggy sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt. His black laptop is on his little desk and he has Reddit open in a browser. Next to him, his bro-friend is skinny and is wearing a t-shirt and shorts, despite the chilly early spring weather.

“Seriously, though, the guy is brilliant.”

“I know, man. I feel lucky just to be in here.”

I can’t help but grin to myself. I agree that Jason Turner is absolutely brilliant. There’s no denying it. I read that white paper and I’ve followed his career.

But not for the reason these guys have. I don’t care that he’s rich and famous and a notorious playboy.

He’s the hottest freaking man I’ve ever seen in my life.

That’s why I’m here. I mean, I’m also here because I want to learn from him, and the guy definitely has something to teach. But I’m not excited to see him because he’s rich and famous.

I’m excited because I want to know if he’s as attractive in real life as he is on TV.

The room is buzzing for five minutes past start time. Jason’s running late, and I can tell everyone’s starting to wonder if he’ll actually show. I mean, nobody really expects this freaking billionaire to show up at our tiny college to teach a class on virtual reality.

But he proves us all wrong. A couple minutes later, he strolls into the room like it’s no big deal, and the whole place suddenly goes quiet.

He looks out at the room. There are maybe thirty or forty students packed into a small little lecture hall-style room. He frowns a little bit, runs a hand through his hair.

And I almost pass out.

He’s just as attractive as I thought he would be. Actually, he’s even hotter.

Rugged, square jaw, bright blue eyes, thick brown hair with slight gray highlights, almost like the gray was put in there professionally. He looks more like a model than a tech nerd.

He makes all the guys in this room look like little children.

“Sorry I’m late,” he barks, opening up his briefcase. He pulls out a stack of paper and holds it up. “We’re taking a test today.”

The room shifts. I look around again. I’m the only girl in the room, I realize after a second, but it’s not surprising. I think there are maybe two other female computer science majors in the whole college, so I’m used to being the only one in a class, but still. I figured the other two would’ve shown up for this.

Guess not. Maybe I’m the only one with a huge crush on this much older man.

Age is just a number though, right? I mean, I’m twenty-one, and he’s forty. He’s not even twice my age. That makes it fine, right?

Doesn’t matter. Not like it’s a real thing. I mean, it’s just a stupid crush. I can fantasize all I want.

“Take one, pass it on,” he grunts as he hands the stack to the person on the far right of the front row. The papers start moving through the crowd.

“This won’t count toward your grade,” he says, looking out over the crowd. His eyes linger when he spots me. For a second, we make direct eye contact. I swear, I think he raises an eyebrow.

But he continues on, leaving a shiver running down my spine.

“I’m working on a new project,” he says. “It’s related to this class, a new VR application. I’m looking for five interns to help. The top five performers on this test will be chosen.” He raises an eyebrow. “Any questions?”

At least ten hands shoot into the air. He frowns at them, but calls on a guy in the second row.

“Uh, so, uh, is this class basically just your way of getting interns?” he asks.

Jason smiles slightly. “Yes.”

He calls on someone else. “How long do we have?”

“However long we have in today’s class.”

He goes through each person, and they all ask stupid, mundane questions. He answers them all, but clearly looks impatient.

Finally, I get my copy of the test, and pass the stack on. I glance through it, biting my lip.

It looks like some other freaking language. It’s difficult math, programming puzzles, and on the back, some question about the philosophic nature of virtual reality systems.

It looks like a freaking mess.

When all the questions are answered, he sits down behind the table, takes out his phone, and glances at the group. I swear, his eyes linger on me again.

“Get started,” he says. “You’re going to need the time.”

He looks back down at his phone, and the room turns into a burst of hurried, intense energy as everyone dives into their test.

I sigh, bite my lip, click my pen, and get started.

Might as well give it my best effort, even if there’s no way I’ll win this contest. The test is clearly way beyond me.

But if it means I get to be closer to Jason Turner for a whole semester…

Well, maybe I can try and pull it off.

I finish just as Jason announces time. Everyone gets up, filing down toward him to hand in their test.

“Fuck, man,” the heavier guy ahead of me says. “Did you, like, get any of that?”

“Nah,” his shorts-wearing friend says. “Not a single fucking thing. I mean, it was insane. Who the hell knows this stuff?”

“Seriously man. There’s no way he’ll pick me.”

“And that question on the back? What did you even say?”

“Some shit about losing identity and crap. It was so broad.”

“Right? Fuck. Oh, well.”

We slowly file toward Jason. He takes each test personally, stacking them up. When it’s my turn, he takes it from my hand, but hesitates.

“Hold on a second,” he says. “I want a word with you.”

I frown. “Me?”

His eyes narrow. “You. Please, just a second.”

“Uh, okay.” I step aside and linger over near the desks. People shoot me glares.

As if being the only girl in a class like this is bad enough, I don’t need a reputation for being the teacher’s pet on top of it. I mean, I bet the rumors are already starting.

Clara Nelson, the slutty nerd, banging her professor.

Something like that. I’ve been hearing that sort of crap my whole time here. Turns out, computer nerds can be total dicks, just like anyone else.

Once the tests are collected and the room is mostly empty, Jason languidly walks over to me.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Clara,” I say.

He nods. “Thought so. You’re the only girl in this class, right?”

“Right.”

“Is that common here?”

“There are only three women in the CS major right now.”

He blinks. “No shit?”

I grin a little. “Seriously. Just three.”

“Wow. I mean, I knew Monray was a small school, but only three?”

“I know. I was surprised too.”

“Shit. So it’ll be a damn sausage fest.”

I blink and laugh despite myself. “Uh, I mean, yeah. I guess.”

He grins at me. “Sorry. Just making a stupid joke.”

“It’s okay.”

His eyes linger on me for a second. I feel a chill run down my spine again, my heart beating fast.

He’s so handsome. It’s crazy, actually. He’s like, my dad’s age, but he doesn’t look anything like the men my dad spends time with.

He’s wearing a simple dress shirt, thin navy stripes, a simple navy tie, and slim-fitting slacks. The outfit should make him look like an entry-level accountant or something like that, but he wears it like an Armani suit.

I have a feeling that Jason could wear anything he wants, and still look amazing.

“I hope you did well on that test, Clara,” he says. “Too many guys in the STEM fields as it is.”

“I don’t know how I did, honestly,” I say, laughing nervously.

“It wasn’t as hard as it looked,” he says. “No trick questions. Not even that open-ended last one.”

I hesitate. “What were you looking for there anyway?”

“Just something interesting. What did you write about?”

“Gender representation,” I say.

He laughs. “Appropriate.”

“Can’t help myself, I guess.”

He lingers again, eyes roaming me. I almost squirm under his gaze. I want him to touch me, pull me against him, wrap his powerful arms around my body.

It’s stupid. I feel like a little girl with a crush.

I haven’t had time for romance since coming to college. Keeping up with my studies has been hard enough, but trying to have a love life when you’re one of three girls in your major, well…

Honestly, guys are more likely to call me a slut than ask me out on a date. So I pretty much just ignore them.

It’s not all that bad. Mostly guys are just assholes in little ways, like assuming I don’t understand a question or an answer, or explaining things slowly for me, or something like that.

Mostly I’m treated like a cute little puppy dog.

Whatever. It’s fine. I haven’t needed romance. I’ve had my studies to keep up with, friends to spend time with. I don’t need to bother with immature assholes.

Jason, though…

He’s very, very mature.

Too mature, maybe.

But no, it doesn’t matter. He’s my professor.

It’s not like he’d ever have interest in a girl like me.

“Well, I look forward to reading it.” He smiles.

“Thanks, Professor Turner.”

He winces. “Call me Jason.”

“Uh, okay. Jason.”

“See you next class.”

I linger for a second as he walks back to the table and gathers his things before turning and hurrying out of there.

I swear I can feel his eyes on my ass as I head out the door, sharp and focused.