We Were Here: A New Adult Romance Prequel to Geoducks Are for Lovers (Modern Love Stories Book 1) (10 page)

Whose friends all called her Lolita.

Ever since puberty

She teased men with cruelty

Discovering her charms she’d shouted, eureka!
”

“I can read it myself. Thank you very much.” I slouched farther down in my chair, hoping to make myself invisible for the duration of class. I grew up near Alameda, but Maggie knew that. There was no way Jason could.

Jason flipped on the slide projector at the back of the room. “We’re going to discuss puberty today. I have slides. I know how exciting this is, but please try to remain awake. Miss Elmore, can you please dim the lights?”

I twisted to see him. He waved me toward the door.

With a small huff, I extracted myself from my slouch and dimmed the lights.

The projector’s fan hummed as he clicked the first slide. Droning on about the pituitary gland, he wandered up the aisle closest to Maggie and me.

“Hormones begin to take over at the approach of menses in girls.”

Menses. Not even sexy Jason Vincent could make the word hot. He paused next to my chair at the end of our row. A crumpled piece of paper fell to the ground, but he kept walking. In the dark, I don’t think anyone else noticed. Maggie focused on taking notes.

I kicked the note under my feet and brushed my pen off the desk, accidentally of course. Picking up the paper along with my pen, I tucked the ball into my bag.

The class dragged on forever. I wanted to create a drinking game over the word gland. Everyone would’ve been drunk by the end of class

Jason flipped on the lights, blinding us all. “Quiz on Thursday. Be sure to review the section on the role of the pituitary gland (drink). Yes, that’s a hint.”

While Maggie put away her notebook, I pulled out Jason’s note. His drop move was about as smooth as a high school student.

“Come to office hours today. 4:00 p.m. Sharp.”

Delightfully bossy.

I liked it . . . I disliked I liked it. What would my women’s studies professor have to say about all of this? She’d probably have made me burn my bra and stop shaving my armpits. Or write a letter of apology to Gloria Steinem herself. I’d heard a rumor they had been friends back at Smith.

Never had I ever been excited for office hours before. I wasted the afternoon lost in fantasies of him locking his door and doing naughty things to me. My still life in drawing class included a big phallic shape in the center, despite no bananas in the bowl of fruit.

At promptly four o’clock I stood outside Dr. Driscoll’s office. Quiet echoed in the hallway and the rest of the doors were closed. I lifted my hand to knock, but the door swung open before my knuckles made contact with the door.

Jason pulled me into the room by my wrist and closed the door behind me.

I didn’t hear the click of the lock. Too bad.

“So, Professor Vincent, you wanted to see me?” I felt breathless and dizzy.

“I think we’re beyond the professor formality.” His gruff voice scraped along my skin like sandpaper. Everything felt too much all at once.

Tall shelves lined three of the walls, books and files formed precarious stacks on the crowded desk and one of the chairs, leaving only one place to sit. I stood still, toying with a loose thread on my bag’s strap. My bravado faded away as realization swarmed over me.

Jason Vincent wasn’t any other cute guy, a slightly older cute guy. He really was a professor and an authority figure. He could fail me and throw off my GPA. Although, I wasn’t even sure how a fail in a pass/fail class would affect my transcript.

He brushed past me in the cramped room and flopped in his chair, sending it into a slow spin. “You asked about private tutoring last week.”

I nodded.

“You don’t really need extra help in this class, do you?”

I shook my head.

He ducked his chin and spun the chair to stare out the window. Outside, rain pelted the glass, washing the room in shadows.

I cleared my dry throat. “Was the limerick about me?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

With his fingers intertwined behind his head, he faced me again. “Because you’re driving me crazy. Kevin’s nickname for you is perfect.”

“I’m hardly twelve.” I felt like a kid in the principal’s office. “And you aren’t a dirty old married man. Wait, you aren’t married, are you?”

“No.”

“Engaged?”

“No.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Not at the moment, no.”

I exhaled with relief.

“But I can’t go out with you, Selah.”

“Why not?”

“The whole faculty student thing?”

“You’re not even a real professor.”

He flinched.

“Sorry. I mean, you’re almost a doctor, but you aren’t a professor here. What does it matter?”

“I need this class as a future reference for my CV.”

I stared at him.

“
Curriculum vitae
?”

“You should speak Latin more often.”

“Thank you, but that’s not the point.”

“I’m not going to go around broadcasting anything. I can be discreet.”

His gaze lowered to my outfit. “Hmm . . .” He let his eyes scan down my legs to my boots. “To clarify, this outfit wasn’t in reference to our conversation at the bar?”

I looked down. Okay, the low V-neck of my T-shirt showed off a lot of boob, and maybe the length of my skirt wouldn’t pass inspection at a Catholic school even though it was plaid.

“Probably not the best outfit for this conversation, is it?”

Again he shook his head no, but this time, his lips lifted in amusement. “It’s more than a little naughty school girl.”

“I’m not looking to be deflowered. The HMS Virginity sailed ages ago. Nor am I looking for a boyfriend. The whole going steady business isn’t really my thing.” I needed to stop talking and oversharing about things he probably wasn’t interested in hearing.

He ran his finger over his lips, contemplating me like he studied a strange animal out in the wild. “What is your thing, Miss Elmore?”

“I thought we were beyond the whole last name thing.” I mimicked his earlier words.

“Fine, Selah. Better?” He shifted in his chair, resting his ankle on the other knee.

I’d never had a guy be this direct with me. Usually we played the game of not interested unless the other person indicated they were interested. Or the other game of
I like hanging out with you, but we’re just friends
. Friends who have sex. Never had a boy, or in this case a man, asked me what I wanted like I had some control over the situation.

Yes, I instigated this, but I didn’t think my flirting would lead anywhere. Yet here we were in a dimly lit office, with the door closed.

“Cat got your tongue?” he whispered. The energy in the room shifted.

“I hadn’t really thought all this through.”

“Did you have a plan?”

“No. Not really.” My entire plan had consisted of three words: seduce Jason Vincent.

“Maybe if we met under different circumstances. And you weren’t my student.”

“That’s a no then?”

“I’m afraid so. Listen, it’s not a judgment on your looks. Or intelligence. Nor do I think any less of you.”

I stared at a ceiling tile in the corner and counted to five before exhaling. “Okay, got it.”

“You’re doing fine in the class. As far as I’m concerned, you’ll pass with no problem. In fact, you seem to have a knack for this subject.”

“You’re not going to fail me?”

He blinked up at me. “No.”

“You think I have a knack for biology?” I’d never done well in a science class in high school. Numbers and calculations always made me want to pull out my hair.

“No, I suspect you have a knack for the sexuality part.”

I snickered.

“Am I wrong?” His hands returned to the back of head, his biceps curving out to tighten his pale blue oxford distracted me.

“I’d say your hypothesis is correct.”

“Thought so. If I’m being honest with you, I’m flattered.”

“To be put in the awkward position of having a student try to seduce you?”

“Not the awkward part as much as my ego thanks you. Biology geeks who spend all their time in the lab and with their noses stuck in books aren’t usually the guys girls fall over themselves for.”

“Are you kidding me?” I gaped at him. “Do you own a mirror?”

He chuckled and his cheeks pinked a little.

“Every girl in the class has a crush on you and is thanking God, the Goddess, and probably Vishnu for Driscoll’s poor choice of footwear.”

He held up his hands in defense. “Okay, I get it. Thank you.”

“No problem. Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Sure. As long as it doesn’t cross our new professor-student diplomacy line.”

“What are you doing in April?”

His head jerked back a little in surprise. “That’s over a month from now. Probably spending it at UW doing research for my dissertation. Why?”

My hand wrapped around the door handle. “You said you thought I was pretty. And after March, you won’t be my professor anymore.”

His laughter followed me down the quiet hall. I resisted skipping like a promiscuous Red Riding Hood who wanted to do naughty things with the wolf.

I may have lost this battle, but I hadn’t surrendered the war.

“The Perfect Girl” ~ The Cure

“REMIND ME AGAIN
why I’m here?” Gil shifted on the floor, angling his legs to the left of Maggie.

“Experiencing new things?” I pulled out my drawing pad, pastels, charcoal, and several pencils.

“I wonder how much the models get paid?” Quinn stole one of my pencils, then taped several pieces of paper to his oversized masonite clipboard.

“I hope a lot.” Maggie crossed her legs. “Imagine standing there while a bunch of people draw you naked.”

“Would you do it?” Gil sounded interested in the idea of naked Maggie.

I swore the two of them were going to get together on our road trip last year before Quinn turned all chaperone and shut them down. Maybe she was over him, because of the whole roommate thing, but I didn’t think he was over her. He sat next to her whenever possible and watched her every move.

“No way!” Her blush extended down her neck.

“I’d do it,” Quinn replied, even though the question wasn’t asked of him.

“No one doubts you would, Q.” I settled myself and got ready for the session to begin.

A portly man in a blue terrycloth bathrobe entered the large room, walked to the center, and dropped his robe.

“Okay, one minute poses. Ready?” Tina, our hostess for this life drawing class at the art center, asked the group.

“I can’t even see his dick,” Quinn complained next to me.

“Are you seriously complaining about that?” My pastel flew over the page, outlining curves and more curves.

After a minute, Tina called for a new pose.

“Oh, there it is!”

“Quinn,” I muttered. “This isn’t a game of I Spy. You don’t win a prize.”

Tina called time again and the model shifted into a new pose.

“It’s more like hide and sneak.” Quinn gestured with his charcoal. “Now you see it, now you don’t.”

Maggie giggled and ducked her face behind her hair.

“Settle down you two. This is serious.” I refused to give into their immaturity.

Our model leaned back over his chair in a pose straight out of Flashdance.

“Oh, come on.” Gil put down his pencil.

Directly in front of us, we had a view of everything. Every little thing.

“Nope. I’m out of here.” Standing, Gil gathered his stuff.

“I’m with you.” Maggie pushed herself up off the floor.

“Shh,” Tina shushed from across the room. “Please wait until we break to leave.”

Trapped, Gil and Maggie shuffled around people to stand against the closest wall.

Another pose change and I nearly dropped my pencil.

“Is that an open sore?” Quinn leaned forward.

My morning coffee threatened a return. “Focus on his face for this one.”

I didn’t want to quit.

I wanted to be the cool girl who drew nudes and was all about the beauty of the human form, no matter the shape or size. But if I were being honest with myself, I signed up for the class hoping the model would be male and hot. Or even a hot woman.