To Professor, with Love (Forbidden Men #2)(91)

I tapped my fingers against my chin, unable to concentrate on my work as I stared longingly at the cell phone I’d set on the corner of my desk. When I started to reach for it, thinking I could send him one little text, just to say hello, I mentally slapped myself and snapped my fingers back to my keyboard.

No. Bad Aspen.

I turned my attention to the screen of my computer where I was entering scores into the campus’s grading system, and couldn’t focus on a single thing. I hated entering scores. I might have to go completely paperless just to bypass the monotony of score entering.

The only class so far where I’d decided to go paperless was Noel’s. And it was going surprisingly well. After we’d started our relationship, I’d had the students in his class turn in their next essay electronically. That way, I didn’t see a name when I read their papers. I just read them as fairly as possible, assigned the score when I was done, and that was that, they were instantly in the system. That part, I loved.

The scary part came when I realized I’d had no idea what letter I’d given my own boyfriend, because I hadn’t been able to discern which paper had been his. After I’d finished with everyone in the class, Noel and I had checked his score together. I think I nearly squeezed his fingers off I was so nervous by the time we saw he’d gotten a B.

I almost bawled because I hadn’t given him an A like I’d hoped I would. He was the one who’d laughed and pulled me into a hug, telling me it was okay. He was making an overall high C in the class. All he had to do was pull another B in the last essay, and he’d be fine. He’d sounded so sure of himself I had relaxed. But, God, I’d had no idea dating one of my students would put this much stress on my job. When we’d begun this thing, I’d been confident I could separate school and personal life. Except I couldn’t. I wanted to give Noel the biggest A possible.

A throat cleared, jerking me from my daydreaming. “Dr. Kavanagh?”

I lifted my face from my computer screen to find a pretty redhead standing in the doorway of my office. She looked familiar, but I wasn’t sure where I’d seen her before. Swiveling my chair to face her, I pasted on a smile, always thrilled when a student sought me out. “Yes?”

She bit her lip, looking a little nervous. “I’m Marci Bennett. I’d really like to talk to you about my grade.”

“Okay. Come on in.” Since I was already in the system, I quickly typed in her name to pull up her file. “You’re in World Masterpieces, right?”

“That’s right.” She stepped inside and shut the door behind her. It caught me off guard because students typically didn’t do that when I met with them. Usually, we kept the door open, or I was the one to close it. Only Noel had ever done that to me, which only made me more uneasy about Marci doing it. But I shrugged off my apprehensions and continued to smile.

As soon as she seated herself, her demeanor changed. Her coyness melted away to be replaced by a smug little smirk. Confused by the transformation, I skimmed my gaze over her, taking in the entire picture. Her hair was her one shining feature, but it was so brilliant a red I wondered if she dyed it. Her boobs looked big, but again, they were nothing help from a good bra couldn’t make. Most everything about her seemed fake and enhanced.

“So, how can I help you?”

She folded her hands precisely in her lap, reminding me of one of my mother’s moves. “Well, for starters, I’d really like an A.”

To keep from rolling my eyes, I gave a serious nod. “I see. Well, it looks like you have a C now.” I flickered my gaze briefly to my computer, and yep, she was so rocking a C, a C minus at that. “All you have to do is attend all your classes, turn in all your papers, work really hard and raise it two grades, and you’ll be set.”

Okay, that might’ve been a bit smarmy of me, but she was giving me a pretty smarmy look herself. The spoiled brat.

“Actually,” she said, twirling a piece of a hair around her finger. “That’s doesn’t work for me, ‘cause I’m not planning to attend another one of your classes for the rest of the semester. And I’m sure as hell not writing another one of your damn essays.”

Hmm, I’d been wrong. Spoiled brat was actually too mild of a term for this one. I was beginning to think raging bitch might work better. Continuing to smile, I lifted an eyebrow. “And you expect an A for that?”

She flashed me a grin. “Exactly.” Then her gaze went serious as she leaned forward. “Oh, and one more thing. I’m going to need you to stop f*cking Noel Gamble while you’re at it.”

I bolted upright in my chair as the blood rushed from my head. “Excuse me?”

With a little sniff, she rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to play stupid with me, honey. I know everything. You see, Noel turned me down the other week.” An aggravated sound gurgled from the back of her throat as she tossed her red locks over her shoulder. “And no one turns me down. I knew something was up then. So...I followed him until I got my proof. And tada!”

She drew up her cell phone, turning it to show me the screen. Noel and I were in my car, cozied up in the passenger seat. We hadn’t reached the part yet where he’d ripped off my bra, thank God, but it was more than obvious what kind of relationship we had.

Wondering how the heck she’d gotten such a good shot, as dark as it had been and as close up as it was, I zipped my gaze up.