On the night of the presentations, a little more than halfway through the summer term, he arrived early. When she entered, he could sense her terror immediately. She had always asked questions. Always. But her nervousness around him was keeping her tongue far quieter than he liked, and she was petrified on this night. He nearly wished he could remove himself from the room so she would be more at ease. Ironically, he was the reason for all her fear, and he almost despised himself for it. He wanted her arousal, but he certainly didn’t want her skittish around him all the time.
When he called her name first, it was to allow her to get her presentation over with and relax for the evening, and when she rose, he took the seat next to hers, knowing he’d be allowed to sit next to her for the remainder of the evening without causing any suspicion from the rest of the room. She may suspect his intent, and he thought she likely would, but he didn’t hide his attraction from her, even if she struggled to believe it was possible. That was simply a manifestation of her own self-consciousness. She was beautiful, and he had no difficulty wanting her. But in truth, attraction was the least of his feelings. He loved her, and he knew her true feelings for him, the ones buried deep in her mind, were quite intense as well.
As she took her place and pulled up her PowerPoint presentation, he became as nervous as she was. He wanted her to do well, and he knew she had a good presentation, but he also knew her nervousness might just get the best of her. When she spoke, her voice was shaky and quiet, and he had to ask her to speak up. She looked to him in desperation, and he gave her a subtle, completely inappropriate wink. Her lips curled up slightly at that, and he encouraged her further. “Go ahead. You’re doing fine.”
She muddled through it as he watched. Her voice never stopped shaking, she lost her place a time or two, and he watched her painfully as she swallowed hard over lump after lump that popped up to her throat. When she stammered as she advanced too quickly through her slides and then panicked and couldn’t remember how to reverse to the previous ones, he had to clench his fists tight to keep from jumping up and rushing to her. She was in hell, and he hated that, but once she finally finished and exhaled a deep sigh, he smiled at her and thanked her for going first.
All in all, he had no reason to give her a bad grade. He didn’t grade on nerves, and the content was good. She was smart, always had been, and her approach had been thorough. When she sat beside him, he could still hear her heart pounding, but as the next student readied themselves for their own presentation, he listened as her heart rate slowed and eventually returned to normal—or as normal as her heart ever beat when she was in his presence.
They sat next to one another for the remainder of the class as one student after another took their turn. Not a one was as nervous as Ember, and he spent the entire time wanting to reach out to her, to hold her hand, stroke her skin, and calm her nerves. But he kept his hands to himself and only allowed his calf to touch hers, knowing it would appear inadvertent; it certainly wasn’t, but she didn’t pull away.
Once class was over, he was again aroused and desperate for her, and he once again went home alone and suffered without her.
“Hi.”
Looking up from her rag on the table, she stilled in recognition. Professor Solomon. He was just as beautiful today as he was on her first night of class. And here she was, without any makeup on and her hair plastered back in a ponytail, holding a dirty washrag. She was pathetic in his presence, and after her performance of the night before, she was feeling ridiculous. “Oh. Hi. Professor Solomon. Umm, how are you?”
“Please call me Truman. I’m well, and you?” His eyes smoldered and twinkled in their beautiful shade of hazel green, and as she held his gaze, her knees weakened and warmth and desire flooded her body. At that very moment, his jaw tightened, and he inhaled a deep and sensual breath that left his eyes fluttering for half a second before he met hers again, and a slight smirk passed his lips.
“I’m good. Thanks.” Her voice was shaking as she spoke, and try as she might, she couldn’t stop the flood of wetness from soaking her underwear.
“So, I haven’t asked you this before, but I’m curious, you’re a senior taking a liberal arts class. Seems unusual.”
“Uh … well, I struggled with Western Civilizations, so I just put off taking the second half of it.”
“I know. You apparently withdrew from this course twice already before now. Your records indicate you’re a great student, so what is it about Western Civilization, I wonder, that so disagrees with you? I mean, aside from your terrible stage fright, you did a great job on your presentation.” His eyes still smoldered, his expression remained intense, and his nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply.
“Oh … I don’t know. Guess history’s just not my subject. The professor who taught Western Civ, and who I thought was going to be teaching this section, is a curmudgeonly old man who has never liked me much.” Ember felt the heat of her blush rising to her cheeks at her unrestrained words. She was nervous speaking with him, but she recognized she sounded more herself speaking her mind. This was her—unrestrained mouth that couldn’t be stopped when it likely ought to, and at her words, he smiled. He apparently didn’t care too much she was driveling on.
“Ah, yes. The good professor died a week before the summer term started. That’s why I’m here, filling in for the summer session until they can hire a full-time replacement.” Ember’s mouth dropped open in mortification, and Professor Solomon chuckled at her response.
“Oh, God… I didn’t know… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. He wasn’t my kin, and I’m guessing if you call him curmudgeonly, he likely was exactly that.”
“So, how is it you came to take the position? I mean, you’re a Harvard professor in the history department, and this is just, you know, Portland.”
“Well, I happen to like Portland, and I spend a lot of time here. Seemed as good a place as any to spend my summer.”
“Do you have family here?”
“No.”
“So, why do you spend so much time here? I mean you have a house here. Just seems odd for a man with no family in town.” She was getting into that annoying incessant stage of her questioning, but having gotten through the terror of the night before, she was suddenly far calmer than she had been recently, and when she started asking questions, she couldn’t seem to stop until her mind was once again at ease. She had always hungered to know anything and everything she possibly could know about things that were often none of her business—such as why this complete stranger would spend his time in Portland.
But as he smiled, there wasn’t a trace of annoyance. “It’s a great place to people watch. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Umm. Sure. I guess. I … uh … better go. My shift’s over in fifteen, and I have to finish some things up before I can get out of here.” In truth, she could have asked him endless questions, but she was trying to stop herself before she annoyed the hell out of him. He had to put up with her for the remainder of the term, and as much as he seemed to enjoy being close to her, she’d rather hide her crazy from him at this point if at all possible.
As she turned from his table, she caught the view from the large window, and her face fell at the sight of the still-pounding rain that had been going from light drizzle to all-out deluge all morning long. It’s going to be one hell of a walk home in this.
The handsome professor continued to watch her with interest. “You drove, I assume?”