Between the desks

Chapter 91

Amren's POV

The next day arrived with an uneasy mix of nerves and excitement bubbling inside me. I had tried to distract myself, spending the morning with Lily over coffee, but my mind kept drifting back to Lizzie. Yesterday's encounter played over and over in my head—the heat, the tension, the way she left me hanging in a swirl of anticipation. I could barely focus on the conversation with Lily, my thoughts already leaping ahead to the classroom, to what might happen when I saw her again.

By the time I stepped into Lizzie's classroom, my heart was pounding. I took my seat in the front row, trying to calm the restlessness that had settled in my bones. The usual hum of the classroom surrounded me—students chatting, flipping through notes, some still half-asleep and others lost in their music. But none of it mattered. All I could think about was Lizzie. The charged look in her eyes, the way her words had teased me, leaving me both exhilarated and tormented.

But she wasn't here yet.

I glanced at the clock, my stomach twisting slightly. Lizzie was always on time, maybe a minute or two late at most. But today... there was no sign of her. My fingers twitched, and before I could think twice, I pulled out my phone, sending her a quick message.

Me: Professor, you're late.

The second I hit send, my nerves spiked. What was I doing? It wasn't exactly professional, but the tension between us had crossed that line long ago. I barely had time to regret my impulsiveness before the classroom door swung open, and Lizzie stepped inside.

My heart skipped. There she was—graceful, confident, as if nothing had changed. Her eyes swept over the room, but the second they found mine, a spark flared to life between us. For a split second, it was just the two of us, locked in that familiar, electric gaze. Then she moved forward, her face a little flushed, as if she'd been rushing or had just come from something intense. There was a slight breathlessness to her that didn't quite match her casual excuse.

"Good morning, class. Sorry I'm late—traffic was awful," she said, her voice carrying that natural authority I had come to know. But today, there was something else lurking beneath the surface.

She moved toward her desk, placing her bag down with a thud, and I couldn't help the flood of memories that rushed back. Yesterday, she had leaned against that very desk, her voice was low, driving me to the brink. The heat from that moment clung to me now, impossible to shake.

Lizzie shrugged off her coat, revealing a fitted grey suit that hugged her figure perfectly. The way the fabric skimmed her curves made it hard to breathe, especially when my gaze caught the teasing glimpse of skin just visible through the opening of her blouse. I swallowed hard, willing myself to focus, but every little movement, every glance from her sent my thoughts spiraling.

"Alright, class," she said, her voice firm, though her eyes flicked toward me briefly, a trace of amusement dancing in them. "Let's dive into today's lesson."

I tried—really tried—to listen as she began her lecture. She was talking about something—ethics, maybe, or critical theory—but the words blurred together, drowned out by the sound of my own heartbeat. I couldn't focus, not with her standing there, so close, her presence still vibrating with the tension we'd left unresolved.

Lizzie moved through the rows of desks, her gaze occasionally locking with mine, a fleeting moment that sent a thrill racing through me each time. It was like a game—a silent battle of control, where neither of us was willing to break first. But I was losing. My mind kept wandering, back to yesterday, to the subtle challenge in her voice, the way her touch had left me burning, the unspoken promise hanging between us.

I shifted in my seat, trying to shake the feeling, but it was impossible. The tension was there, crackling in the air between us, growing more unbearable with every passing second.

Then, out of nowhere, she turned her attention directly to me, her eyes locking onto mine with a pointed look. "Let's hear your thoughts, then," she said smoothly, her tone laced with something more than just curiosity.

My stomach flipped. I hadn't been paying attention. I opened my mouth to respond, hoping to say something coherent, but the words stuck in my throat. Her gaze stayed on me, waiting, unblinking, as if she knew I was struggling. There was a slow, teasing smile curving her lips, the same one that had driven me wild yesterday. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"I... well, I think—" I stammered, my brain scrambling to piece together something, anything.

Lizzie's eyes widened, but she didn't push me. She let the silence linger just a moment longer than necessary, her eyes twinkling with amusement before finally nodding, satisfied. "Good. Keep thinking.". She was sassy and teasing me. I heart Lily snort beside me. 

Her words were innocuous, but the way she said them—like she was playing with me, toying with the very tension I was desperate to release—made my pulse quicken. My skin felt too tight, my breath too shallow. This wasn't just a lecture anymore. This was something more.

The rest of the class passed in a haze. I couldn't tear my focus away from her, from the way she moved, the way her gaze seemed to linger on me just a fraction too long. Every time I tried to concentrate, my mind circled back to her, to the tension that coiled between us, taut and unbreakable.

Finally, the end of class came. Lizzie dismissed the students, her voice calm and collected, though her eyes flicked to mine one last time, a silent acknowledgment of what still hung between us. My heart pounded as I watched her gather her things, her movements unhurried, deliberate.

The tutoring session was next, just the two of us, and I wasn't sure what would happen. But the promise in her eyes told me that whatever it was, the tension between us wasn't going to dissolve anytime soon.

It was only going to build.