My Professor's Secret

06|

six

When morning arrived and the realization of where Taylor and I had spent the night finally woke me, I jumped to my feet. The movement came before my mind had the chance to catch up with the memory. For a moment I simply stood there, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling and the faint scent of cologne clinging to the sheets before the events of last night came crashing back all at once. Eager to wake Taylor and get out of here before the situation could become any more humiliating than it already was, I turned toward the other side of the bed.

All that remained where she had slept was an indent.

My phone sat lifeless on the side table beside Professor Thornton's bed. It had barely survived last night's chaos and now it was completely dead and useless, which meant the one thing that could have distracted me long enough to ignore the circumstances had completely betrayed me.

Perfect.

The bedroom door was cracked open, so I paused and listened carefully for the slightest possibility of conversation between Taylor and Professor Thornton. There was nothing but silence. She was probably in the bathroom or playing with her niece in the other room. Whatever it might have been, it didn't change the fact that I had slept in my professor's bed last night, or that the only person connecting either of us enough to make the situation remotely acceptable seemed to have disappeared without a trace.

I rubbed the evidence of sleep from my eyes and puffed my morning breath into my palm, testing whether it was tolerable enough to survive a conversation before walking into his living room.

Professor Thornton stood with his back to the kitchen island, his focus fixed on a video playing from his phone. The glow from the screen lit the counter in front of him while the rest of the apartment remained quiet. I lingered there for a moment hoping he would notice me first and speak up, but the video on his phone seemed far more interesting than my quiet arrival to the room. Eventually the silence became unbearable and I cleared my throat to catch his attention.

"Alexandrea," he gasped, spinning around to meet my gaze. "I didn't hear you come in."

He seemed relieved to see me awake, which somehow made the situation feel even worse.

"I'm glad you're up," he continued. "My boss called this morning and needs me at work within the hour. I couldn't bring myself to wake you earlier considering the night you and Taylor had. It was obvious you needed the rest."

It was only then that I noticed the white apron tied around his waist. The realization connected itself quickly enough. Work, but he wasn't dressed in his signature white button-up dress shirt or his black dress pants. Something about that detail made the situation feel slightly less inappropriate, though not nearly enough to ease the embarrassment pooling in my stomach.

"I—sorry for holding you up. Where's Taylor?" I questioned, following him toward the door to slip on my shoes. "We can totally get out of your hair. I figured she'd wake me up when she got up for class today, but I guess not."

"Well, actually, she tried. We both did," he said, reaching for the hook beside the door where his keys were hanging. "But you were determined to keep sleeping."

That was unfortunate.

"She got up early to take care of the key situation," he continued, gesturing toward the coffee table where my dice keychain lay. "After dropping Emma off at daycare for me, she headed to class."

My jaw nearly hit the ground.

A humorless laugh escaped from my mouth before I could stop it, though there was nothing funny about the situation.