Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Low grunts escape through the thick wooden door. I can make out figures through the glass but no details because of the frost.
I take a few steps back from the door. I’m in the right place, but is this a bad time? Should I leave and come back later? I don’t want to interrupt whatever is happening in there…
I pull my phone from my purse and double-check Professor Boynton’s office hours. It’s right on his University webpage. Monday five to six p.m.; Thursday eight to nine a.m. Please make an appointment outside of these hours.
I check the time again. It’s only a quarter past eight. I’m within the time frame, so I have every right to be at Professor Boynton’s office right now. I could leave, but if I do, I’ll never come back. If I’m going to do this, it has to be right now.
Stepping forward again, I tentatively lift my knuckles and tap against the cool glass.
The sounds behind the door stop immediately. I hear a rustling sound, and then the door opens.
“Ms. Maple!” Professor Boynton exclaims, surprising me. I had no idea he knew my name because our class is pretty big. This is why I could never be a professor. I have a hard enough time remembering the names of my family members, let alone those of the hundred or so students who attend a lecture.
“Hi, Professor. Sorry if I’m interrupting something…”
Professor Boynton looks flushed, but that doesn’t take away from how damn hot the man looks.
I noticed his looks the first time I walked into the lecture hall. It was my second class of the day, and I was feeling overwhelmed. Luckily, I knew I had Jessica in my English class. Her calming presence was all that had kept me from bursting into tears.
She and I sat next to each other near the middle of the small lecture hall. Students filed in around us, but there was no sign of our professor. The time for class to start came and went. Still, no professor.
After five minutes, I was starting to worry we were in the wrong place. I don’t know what the probability of a hundred students ending up in the wrong classroom is, but it didn’t seem likely. Still, my anxiety had started to take over. Jessica did her best to stop my freak out.
Luckily, seven minutes after class was supposed to start, in walked our professor. He was the most attractive man I had ever seen. Then, just like now, I had to force my jaw closed. I’m pretty sure I started drooling.
I swipe at my face to make sure the drooling isn’t happening now. On the first day, Professor Boynton was dressed professionally in a button-up with a tie. He wore black slacks that were tight enough to make my mouth water. He tucks to the left.
Today, he’s dressed more casually. He’s still wearing a button-up shirt, but there’s no tie, and the top couple of buttons are undone. His shirt is a bit wrinkled, like he put it on in a rush. For pants, he’s wearing jeans instead of formal slacks. They, too, are wrinkled.
Professor Boynton’s dark black hair is a mess, too. It looks like he ran his fingers through it a few times before I got here. I loved how it looked on that first day of class, perfectly coifed and professional. However, today’s messy locks send a shiver down my spine too. I want to be the one to run my fingers through that hair…
Immediately, I force that thought from my mind. I should not be thinking sexual thoughts about my professor! It doesn’t matter how attractive he is; my mind should be on the paper in my purse, not his appearance. Though it is peculiar that he’s so un-put together. I wonder what caused it…
I’m not going to call him out on his disheveled look, though. It’s not my place to comment on my professor’s appearance.
On the flip side, he at least seems to appreciate my look for today. Professor Boynton’s piercing blue eyes rake up and down my body. At least I’m not the only one staring! It makes me feel better knowing he’s looking at me the way I was looking at him.
“You’re not interrupting anything,” he finally replies. How much time has passed? It feels like I’ve been standing in front of this door for at least six hours. In reality, only a couple of minutes have passed.
“Oh. Good,” I manage. I didn’t realize how intimidating it would be to stand before Professor Boynton with no one else around. I want to push him through the door and…
Before that bad thought can come to fruition, the door pushes itself open more.
No, not itself. A head peeks out from behind the door.
“Well, hello there, Ms. Maple! It’s good to see you.”