Periwinkle

28| MADEMOISELLE

Taking a deep breath and bracing myself, I knocked on the door before pushing it open. The familiar scent of old books and Mrs. Anderson's—now Professor Carver's—office washed over me as I stepped in.

The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the window, highlighting the stacks of dusty books lining the shelves and the worn leather armchair in the corner. Professor Carver sat behind his desk, a frown etched on his face as he scrolled through something on his computer. He looked up, his dark eyes meeting mine through his glasses, for a brief moment as silence stretched thick and heavy between us. But the fleeting moment was over just as soon when he quickly flickered his eyes back to his work.

"Miss Williams. What can I do for you?" His voice was formal, businesslike.

"Professor Carver," I said, forcing my voice to sound steady. "I was hoping to discuss my thesis."

"Of course." His voice was clipped in the typical Shane Carver way. "Come in and have a seat."

I entered the room and closed the door behind me, steeling myself for whatever was about to happen. I wasn't sure what to expect, but the atmosphere felt different somehow, the air in the room cackling with a tension that made my skin prickle.

I perched on the edge of the seat in front of the desk, careful not to put too much weight on my ass. The memory of just why I had to be careful with my ass and the fact that the reason was sitting right in front of me sent a heat flashing through me and made my cheeks burn.

I couldn't believe how unprofessional I'd been. How could I have let myself get carried away like that?

"Your thesis?" Professor Carver prompted, glancing up from his computer. His dark eyes bored into me, and I could see the muscle in his jaw tighten.

"Yes," I said, taking a deep breath and avoiding his gaze. "Just... some feedback on the direction I'm taking."

God, what I wouldn't have done to avoid talking to him or being alone in a room with him. But this was important, and I couldn't hold it off just because of... what happened. I needed to be professional here.

But fuck, the encounter in his office the other night played on repeat in my mind, a constant reminder of the things he did, the things he said, and the things he made me do. But even though I couldn't forget what happened, I tried my best not to let the memories show on my face.

"Of course," he said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. His eyes raked over me, and I could feel the flush rising to my cheeks. "What's the problem?"

"Well, the thing is..." I took a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts. "I'm not sure if I'm going in the right direction with my thesis. I'm just..."

Fuck, it was hard to focus when he was looking at me like that.

"Are you doubting yourself, Miss Williams?" He cocked an eyebrow, a hint of mockery in his voice. "Or are you just looking for a pat on the head and some reassurance?"

"N-no," I said, flustered. "Of course not."

I shifted in my seat, the burn in my ass suddenly a little too intense, and tried to ignore the heat in his gaze as he continued staring at me.

How the hell can he be so fucking calm after everything? How could he pretend that nothing had happened while it was hard for me to even look at him without my head going back to that night?

Was it really so common for him to do such things that it didn't affect him in the least?

I shook my head and pushed the thought aside, focusing on what I came here for.