Professor Cline: Redeemed (Professor #2)

I looked at Brian, who had stopped alongside me, and he gave me a reassuring smile.

“I’ll see you Wednesday,” he said softly, looking over my shoulder at Mason before turning and walking out the door.

The last of the students had already departed, so it was just him and me. I turned to meet his gaze, and a feeling of apprehension flowed through me.

“Would you mind closing the door?” He gestured with his hand.

I crossed my arms over my chest in a sign of defiance. In my mind, I was trying to show that I had some kind of control. I highly doubted it worked, but I had to try.

“I’d rather keep it open.”

He smirked as he leaned against his desk, copying my stance by crossing his arms over his chest.

He averted his eyes and stared at his feet. It was an action I’d never seen him do, like he was shy and needed a moment to gather his thoughts. It confused me and threw me off-kilter for a moment. I wasn’t sure if that was what he’d intended, but it was working and I didn’t have time to play any games.

“You needed to speak to me?”

He looked up and unfolded his arms to rest his hands on the desk.

“Yes,” he said as he cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you about the other night.”

I bit the inside of my cheek as he spoke. The other night. As if it was just another night. A night that will forever be imprinted in my mind. My overly active brain was no longer turning.

“There’s really nothing to say,” I finally managed to squeak out. “What happened between us was nothing. There’s no reason for you to explain anything to me. It happened, and now it’s done.”

I could feel the heat rush to my cheeks as I spoke.

He moved away from his desk and slowly walked toward me as I watched every step he took. I had so many feelings flowing through me that my heart was racing in my chest. I was excited and frightened all at the same time; excited that he was talking to me again, but also frightened that he was, too. I didn’t know how to feel about it. The only thing that kept looping in my mind was: what would Mel say?

He stopped a few feet away from me. Close enough where I could smell the cologne drifting off his skin. He took over my senses completely.

“I wanted to apologize to you, Emma. What you saw…” he said, furrowing his brow. “That should never have happened.”

I tilted my head to the side, curious as to what he meant. “Are you referring to your behavior or you cutting yourself?”

The words flew out of my mouth before I could censor them, and I averted my eyes from his before I could see his brow furrow more.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, you’re right,” he said, cutting me off. “I know what you think you saw—”

I scoffed, interrupting him in return. “I know what I saw, but that’s not the point.” I shrugged, but none of it really mattered. “Look, I appreciate the apology,” I stated as I took a few steps back, “but I need to go.”

I turned and walked out of the room, and it took everything I had not to turn to see his face. I knew I was being rude. Mason didn’t seem like the kind of guy who dished out apologies often, but I knew he was going to lie to me. I didn’t want to stand there and listen to it.

I was glad he finally spoke to me—the smile I was trying to contain was evidence—but I couldn’t focus on that. We needed to keep a student-teacher relationship.

It was a shame, too, because I really liked the Mason I saw the night of the fundraiser.





Four


Mason



I smirked as Emma walked out of my classroom. She was quick on her feet and spirited, things I never thought I’d be attracted to. But with her, it sparked something within me. I needed more of it.

The week before was a challenge for me as I ignored her completely. I needed the distance to figure out what the fuck was going on in my head. I knew I couldn’t distance myself from her in class, so I pretended she wasn’t there.

It was easy at first. I convinced myself that she was disgusted with me, which she should have been after what she’d seen. But I knew she wasn’t.

I could feel the intensity of her stare earlier in class, and even though I tried to abstain from looking at her, I’d caved. When our eyes met, it was like she was trying to see through me, trying to break down my walls. I both hated and relished the way it made me feel.

I was in unexplored terrain. Not one to drop my walls for anyone, my mask was always in place. But Emma? She was different. I didn’t understand it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to understand it. How could one person I’d just met make me want to change years of consistent behavior?

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