To Professor, with Love (Forbidden Men #2)

“Hello. We’re in Illinois. I’m Bears, all the way.” I wrinkled my nose, but he was quick to add, “But my favorite quarterback in the league is Tom Brady.”


Nodding, I let him have that one. Brady wasn’t bad. Not bad at all. But... “I’m pretty partial to Alex Smith myself.”

This time, it was Philip’s turn to nod as if allowing me that concession before he added, “At least you didn’t say Manning.”

I grinned. “Which one?”

He pointed at me, a big grin spreading across his face. “Hell, you do know your quarterbacks. Very nice, Dr. Kavanagh.” He never did tell me whether he was talking about Eli or Peyton, but he seemed so impressed by my sports knowledge, I guess it didn’t matter.

Pleased I’d been able to impress him, I smiled back and reminded him, “It’s just Aspen.”

“Right. Aspen.” As his gaze heated in that interested-male way of his, I bit the inside of my lip, not sure what to do with all his attention.

Around us, the stadium went crazy. I wrenched my attention to the field just in time to see number twelve dodge a hulking defender and leap into the end zone, scoring a touchdown.

“Hey, what’re you doing next Saturday?” Phillip asked, distracting me again, and shocking the ever-loving crap out of me. “Because I’d love to take you out.”

My mouth fell open. “Umm...” I couldn’t believe this. I’d come here to ogle another man, and ended up getting asked out by a coworker. Shaking my head because I was still confounded by the fact that this was actually happening, I sputtered. “Doesn’t the administration look down on that type of thing? Coworkers...mingling?”

Philip shrugged. “I wouldn’t exactly call us coworkers. We work in totally different departments. Besides, there’re a couple faculty members on campus who’re actually married to each other. The only policy I’m certain they have about mingling is between teachers and students.”

I glanced toward number twelve on the field, who was currently getting mauled by his teammates as they congratulated him. The twinge in my chest told me I was disappointed to hear the teacher/student policy spoken aloud, though I already knew it existed. I was even more boggled about my reaction because even if we’d been free to date, Noel Gamble would never give me the time of day, and the last thing I needed was a man-whore like him. So why was I upset?

Turning back to Philip, I took a deep breath. My heart thudded fast in my chest, unable to believe I was actually going to do this. “Okay then,” I said. “Yes. I think I’d like that.”

He grinned back. “Really?” When I nodded, he drew in a deep breath and sent me a huge, relieved grin. “Great. It’s a date then.”

Wow. A date.

A cheer from the crowd had me jerking my attention to the field just as the defense intercepted the ball, and Gamble’s offense trotted back onto the field.

I shook my head in bewilderment. I couldn’t help but wonder what number twelve would do if he knew he’d just assisted me in setting up my first date in eighteen months. Since he hated me, I’m sure it’d annoy him, so I smiled even wider. Good. It served the guy right for making me think about him as inappropriately as I did.





CHAPTER SIX




“Men go to far greater lengths to avoid what they fear than to obtain what they desire.” - Dan Brown, The Da Vinci Code



NOEL



Tuesday morning, I entered Literature class cantankerous and on edge. After coming straight from the nearest print lab where I’d printed out an eight-page remake paper for Dr. Kavanagh, I felt cracked open and raw.

She had demanded I talk about my feelings. So I’d talked. I’d poured my soul into the dumb assignment. I had dug inside myself and laid it all on the line, uncovering things I hadn’t realized I’d even felt.

Without a word to the woman already seated behind the desk as she dug through an opened briefcase, I slapped the stapled pages onto a bare spot, facedown.

Her head jerked up, wide green eyes making her look way too young to have a PhD.

Narrowing my gaze, I spent a second to glare before I turned away and found a seat.

After settling into my chair, I glanced her way to see her eyeing the essay curiously. Then, without turning it over to read it, she slipped it gingerly off the desk and tucked it into the mesh pocket inside the lid of her briefcase. After clicking the latch shut, she lifted her attention and began class...as if nothing earth shattering had just happened.

I blew out a breath. There. It was finished. Done. I didn’t have to stress about that stupid, ridiculous thing again.