Lesson Learned {Student Teacher Romance}

Chapter 7

It's Sunday and the Green River Community College campus is pretty quiet, which suits me just fine. I came straight from my shift at the diner I'm still in my uniform, but it's not like anyone is around to notice. 

In fact, the lack of people means I can easily snag one of the Library's ancient desktop computers to work on my assignment in peace. 

I've even sprung for a latte from one of my favorite coffee carts, so I'm sufficiently buzzed and feeling good. 

Within a few hours, I have a solid argument for Mr. Benedict's essay question. I even threw in some references to Shakespeare's other works, citing the playwright's frequent use of a puckishly eloquent sidekick that influences the protagonist's fate.

"Hello." A low and gentle voice startled me enough to cry out.

I clenched the flimsy cup to my chest in fear (because, of course, I was also holding my latte) as the lid popped off and splashed a wave of brownish liquid down my front.

Thank you, Universe, so much.

To make matters worse, I looked up into Mr. Benedict's beautiful eyes, and my tongue tied itself into a slip knot, "Oh, crap! I mean, hi, Mr. Benedict!"

"I'm so sorry!" He started apologizing for my clumsiness. "Let me get you some paper towels."

As quickly as he appeared, Mr. Benedict took off for the bathrooms.

I shove my memory stick into the computer's tower to save my essay before focusing on the fact that I look like an utter disaster.

My hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail and I'm covered in brown splotches that are starting to settle into the fabric of my only uniform. 

When Mr. Benedict returns, I'm still trying to gather my things so I can make a speedy exit.

"I'm so sorry about that," he hands me a fistful of paper towels.

"It's fine," I try and avoid the depths of his oceanic gaze by concentrating on my messy front.

"What are you doing here on a Sunday?" He asks while I dab hopelessly at the milk stains on my chest.

"Writing my essay for your class actually," I blink up at him to find Mr. Benedic's cheeks reddening.

"Were you about to go to work?" He clears his throat. "If you need to go change, I could give you a ride?"

"No, thank you," I ball up the remaining towels. "I'm done with work. Why are you here?"

For a moment Mr. Benedict's dark blue eyes fixed on mine. I can't quite read the expression, but a curious smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

He looks as gorgeous as ever in brown corduroys and a sweater that shows the outlines of his muscular chest. 

"I work here," he answers.

Oh, yeah.

"Offer still stands. Can I give you a ride?" He asks. "I'd hate to take the bus all wet and sticky." 

A small surge of electricity tickles the nape of my neck. 

I probably shouldn't accept a ride from a teacher, but it's Sunday, so I doubt anyone will even notice us.

"OK," I answer cautiously. "That would be nice."

"Excellent," he grins and holds a hand offering me the lead.

"Why the College library?" He asks as we breeze out the front door into the crisp fall air. "Are things too noisy at home?"

"No," I answer while trying to work the buttons of my coat. "I don't have a computer."