“I don’t think you’re going to move me.” I smiled, batting my eyelashes slowly, deliberately. “I think your wife is just going to have to wait.”
I didn’t move a muscle as he shook his head, and the way his lips pressed together annoyed me.
“Ryan, your antics aren’t normal.”
“Oh? Your professional opinion?”
“You’re clearly starved for male attention, maybe from your father, and now you’re mistaking mine for something it’s not. Somewhere along the line, you confused authority with desire.”
I bristled at his tone. It wasn’t even accusing, it was worse, it felt inevitable, like it was just a fact carved into stone. I swallowed something sharp, something that scratched going down.
I didn’t like the pity in his eyes. Who the hell did he think he was, looking at me like that?
“Authority,” I sneered, letting the word twist out of my mouth like it was rotten. “Do you think someone like you has any authority over me?” The laugh that came out was quick and sharp, almost ugly.
He straightened, shoulders going back. “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m your professor. This ismyclassroom.”
“Your classroom, huh? You can’t even get through the door.” My smile stretched wider, sharper. “C’mon, prof. Use that authority of yours to get me to move.”
I stayed planted in place.
He looked me over, slow, eyes dragging. “Youlittle—” he exhaled deeply, his hand rubbing his nose before looking at me again. “Clearly my assessment hurt your feelings. I apologize."
“I wasn’t hurt,” I go on, “I was offended that someone likeyouthinks they have authority over me.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“You’ve got authority over a bunch of undergrads too tired to care. Half of them will go on to make more money than you, live better than you, forget your name by next semester.” I tilted my head, smiling too widely. “But sure. Keep calling it authority if it makes you feel important.”
He studies me for a moment. I could tell he was trying his hardest not to snap at me.
“You’re a child, Ryan. One day you’ll understand there’s so much more to life than money and your idealized version of power.” His voice softened, but not in a way that made me feel better. “Like love, respect, and—.”
“Oh, so you’re in love? Really?”
“Of course I am. I’m married for a reason.”
Like that meant anything.
I bit back the urge to say it, something hot burned up under my skin.
Why do I care? I don’t. I don’t care. Not even a little bit.
“What do you even love about her?” The words slipped out quieter than I meant.
“She’s…mature.” He hesitated.
“That's it?” I scoffed, holding back a laugh.
“More than I could say about you, you're no better than a kid.” He snapped.
Asshole.
I felt hurt, and I shouldn’t. He’s married, in a committed relationship. I have no rights here. I barely know him. But I feelrobbed.
I still remember when my dad’s affection was stolen from me by the first woman he cheated with—Catherine. She took everything. Took something that didn’t belong to her.
Now it’s happening again. Mr. Thorne wasn’t mine, but I hate that he was stolen from me before I even had the chance to get him.
