“Feeling better?” he asked. “From yesterday I mean…not sick, correct?”
He was relaxed, calm, so I stepped a little closer.
He noticed, but didn’t say anything. Leaned back slightly in his chair.
“Yeah. I'm fine. Thanks again.” I grinned. “Best ride of my life.”
He gave me a small, wry smile. His eyes assessed me. “Of course, forcing you to walk back to your dorms would be cruel, especially on your first day on campus.”
Cute.
“Totally. I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm Ryan and I always like getting to know all my professors...intimately.” My voice was as sweet as I could make it.
He furrowed his eyebrows for a millisecond, before giving a tight smile. “I'm happy to hear that,Ryan.”
God, even the way he said my name was hot. In his deep, rich voice.
“I'm glad to see your spirits are higher than—”
“Yeah! I'm usually a pretty easy person to get along with.” I grin, “Yesterday was just pretty rough.”
“Hm. The weather?” He probes, his eyes kind but very concentrated on my words.
Nope, my father.
“Yeah exactly. I hate the feeling of being cold. Sorry if I was kind of an asshole.”
I pretend not to notice him sweeping my outfit; hopefully he notices how tight my skinny jeans are, making my ass look great.
His eyes return to mine and he offers the barest curve of his lips.“Nonsense. All is forgiven. But Ryan, if there's anything more ever going on in your life, there are resources and…I'm not a therapist but I can offer my best advice with the credentials I have.”
I focused on not twitching or flinching. Did my behavior make him think I was unstable?
Okay, calm down, Ryan. Don't freak out or else you'll confirm to him that you need help.
I plastered a smile on so fast, it almost hurt.
I laughed, “Yeah, thanks I'll keep that in mind. But doing pretty good.”
He nodded, his face once again unreadable.
I don't like that. Not a big fan of how perceptive he was. At all.
He glanced around briefly, shoved some books into his bag, then stood, so close now I could almost feel the warmth from him.
Our eyes locked for a beat longer than necessary before he stepped back just enough to create space.
That’s fine.
“So, how are you liking the class? Have you taken a psych course before?” he asked, checking his watch.
I slid a few papers to the side and hopped up onto his desk, sitting cross-legged. His eyebrows rose a little, and although he started to say something, he stopped when I looked up, mouth tugging upward.
For the briefest moment it looked like his eye twitched.
“Yeah, I took one at my old university. But I already like you way more.”
He kept looking at me—me, sitting on his desk. Did he like the view? He was staring at my bottom so intensely.
