Chapter 7: Seven

Ping!

I groaned, rolling over in my bed as I fumbled to find my phone without opening my eyes. Who the hell was texting me so early?

I peeked through one eye, the light from the open blinds temporarily blinding me.

"*Good morning. Hope you slept well.*" Six simple words and I was suddenly wide awake. I pushed myself up on my elbows so I could text him back.

"*Good morning. I did, thank you. You sure are up early*." It was 6:30 am. I had never heard of a college student waking up before eight. His reply came quickly.

"*I like to go running before work.*" Of course he does. That must be how he maintains that killer body. Maybe I could start running… The thought made me cringe in disgust. I would look like a wounded duck.

"*You have a job*?"

"*Lol. Of course I do. I'm a grown man, Jen.*" I pursed my lips. Okay, Mr. Sass. I didn't know you also worked during college. "*Don't you*?"

"*Yes, of course I do, Joel. I'm a grown woman. I work as a florist.*" It took him a little longer to answer, so I decided I might as well get up and dressed for the day. I didn't have my first class til nine, but I liked to have breakfast at the diner across the street beforehand and they could be busy in the mornings.

"*That's wonderful. It sounds very fitting for you*." Wait, what did that mean?

"*Is this your way of calling me delicate or beautiful?*"

"*Both*."

This guy. I couldn't even be mad at him for the delicate comment this time. He was both being sweet and an ass at the same time. What was I supposed to do with that?

"*I'm not delicate, but thank you. I'm not much of a flower. Maybe Angel's Breath.*"

"*Why Angel's Breath*?"

"*It's mostly filler. It's bland by itself, and blends into the background when surrounded by prettier flowers. Very utilitarian*."

"*I disagree. I don't think we see you as the same flower at all*." I bit my lip, rereading his text a few times before finally responding.

"*What do you see*?"

"*I see a cherry blossom*."

"*That's a tree.*"

"*Yes. And you never see it's blossoms in a bouquet with other flowers, because the others would dull in comparison. They are beautiful, but only when they let themselves be. Otherwise, they hide in their buds, waiting for the right time to bloom.*" I blushed. I hadn't expected such a poetic and deep answer. If anything, I expected the standard 'rose' or 'tulip'. Certainly not that.

What was he even saying? Was I hiding in a bud? Yes. I knew the answer to that was yes. But I wasn't as beautiful as a cherry blossom. If I bloomed, I would only disappoint everyone.

Geez, what nonsense was I spouting? He somehow got me thinking about myself as a flower. I needed to get dressed, already.

"*That was… deep. Maybe too deep for 7am*?"

"*Haha. Fair point. I'm going to need to get showered and dressed for work. I'll ttyl*."

I tried to hide my disappointment, but it was no use. Damn, I needed to get ready, too, so why was I so annoyed?

"*Okay. Have a good day at work. I'll talk to you later*."

With a sigh, I moved to the bathroom. Another shower would be good. I could use a little freshening up. After blow drying my mop of hair, I moved to my dresser. I should probably invest in some sexier underwear if I plan on sleeping with Joel again. Hell, I'm sure he would enjoy something a little more wild. Maybe a thong?

But I had never worn something like that before. I usually stuck to cotton bikini cuts. Wouldn't it be uncomfortable to have a string in my ass? With a sigh I slid on a pair of red cotton panties and a black bra with a red bow in the middle. It was the closest I would get to something sexy. Not that I would even be seeing Joel today. Hell, I didn't know his work schedule. Besides, seeing someone during the middle of the week for hot sex seemed wildly irresponsible.

After that, I pulled out a pair of faded jeans and an MU t-shirt. I knew it was probably lame to wear a school shirt on the first day of class, but I honestly didn't care. Nobody I knew would even see me. Not even the girls would be crossing paths with me today. After slipping on a pair of black converse and sliding a hair tie on my wrist, just in case, I grabbed my satchel and headed out the door. Rarely did anyone require books on the first day of class, so I was safe without my backpack. I could fit two Syllabi in my bag, no problem.

Breakfast was fast and simple, and I was glad to get my stomach full after eating next to nothing the day before. Damn, I was starving. Who knew that having three orgasms in 24 hours would make you so tired? I grinned at the reminder.

As if he knew what I was thinking, a ping sounded from my phone.

"*Could we talk again tonight? I'll behave, I promise*."

What if I didn't want him to behave?

I tucked my phone away, not wanting to try to text and walk at the same time. I had to walk clear across campus to my damn art class and I didn't like being late.

The art building was massive, with all-glass architecture and a large sign above that proudly declared it as the "Jim Robinson Center for Art & Design". God, I hoped their rooms were easy to find. I'd never been in this building before and was not looking forward to it.

"302." I mumbled aloud to myself, surprised when I heard someone respond.

"Are you looking for Intro to Painting?" I jumped, clutching my chest before my heart could fly out. A young man's chuckle rang out. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you. I just overheard you and I think we're headed to the same place."

I finally looked up into the brightest blue eyes I'd ever seen. He looked a little younger than me, but was still incredibly handsome, with a clean shaven face, light skin, and light blonde hair. He was not exceptionally tall, probably only 5'9 at max, but had a lean, fit figure. He was well dressed in brand names with a soft smile as he regarded me respectfully.

"Oh, yea. Hi, I'm Jen." I held my hand out to shake, but he didn't think twice before accepting it, his smile growing.

"June. Are you an art major, Jen?" I snorted, clutching my bag strap as I followed him down the hall.

"Hell, no. And you'll see why in class. I'm a senior in Econ." He laughed, a lighthearted and kind laugh, one that's nice and easy on the ears.

"So the practical type. I like it. Im a sophomore in Civil Engineering. We both work with numbers, mine are just behind the scenes." He said with a flirty nod and wink. He was charming, that was for sure. And something told me he knew it. "Well, here we are. After you, milady." He gestured for me to go first, and I smiled.

The room was relatively big, but I guess it had to be to accommodate fifteen easels. There were no desks, but instead eight high top tables with steel stools and wooden easels neatly folded atop them. The professors desk was small and out of the way, but there was a platform in front of the room that held an end table with various cans holding paint brushes. The whole place smelled like a Michael's explosion, and I swore I would get high just off the scent alone. Two entire walls were made of glass showing off the vast expanse of our bustling campus below.

This was nothing like the Econ classrooms. It was unorganized, chaotic, and full of bright colors, old paint spills showing the years of use.

"Front or back?" June asked, snapping me out of my daze. Fortunately, we were early enough to have our pick.

"Back. I don't want anyone else seeing my pathetic attempts at art." I joked, but it was only partly in jest. I was genuinely terrified, my nerves strung out across the floor with each step I took into the room.

He took the inside and I took the out.

Shit, I forgot to text Joel back!

I took out my phone, smiling when I reread his text.

"*I'd love to. An appropriate conversation could be fun. ;)*" My face flushed at my use of a winky face. It was so flirty, and so very much not me.

"Talking to your boyfriend?" June poked, nodding to my phone.

"Oh, no. Just a friend. I don't have a boyfriend at the moment." Hopefully soon, I would. My stomach fluttered at the thought. He did say he would ask me on an official date soon. Would he ask tonight?

June's face lit up and he leaned his elbows onto the table.

"Surprising. You seem like someone who would have men racing to make you theirs." I snorted again.

"Yea, no. Nothing of the sort." I assured him, but he merely chuckled, shaking his head.

Ping!

"*Great! I'll have to pull out all my charms. As we've established, I'm a lot less likable without my face to help me out. ;)*" I giggled, pulling my bottom lip in as I responded.

"*You can be an ass, but I sort of like it. Sometimes. Just don't let it get to your head*."

Immediately after hitting send, I heard an sudden ping coming from behind me. Huh, that was ironic timing, I thought. But just as I went to lean my head on the table, I saw him.

Oh God.

What the hell is he doing here?

He was dressed in black slacks and a rolled white dress shirt, crossing to the front tables with his phone in hand, eyes glued to it.

Shit, he's in this class?

But he didn't stop at a table. He kept walking to the front of the room, onto the platform, before stopping to type in his message.

I couldn't breathe.

No way.

Fates a bitch.

He was my… my… professor.

With a smile, he hit send, and my phone rang out, drowning out the sound of everything in the room besides it. At the noise, he glanced up, doing a double take as his eyes met mine.

His phone clambered from his hands, but he managed to snap out of it enough to snatch it from midair, quickly shoving it in his pocket before meeting my gaze once again.

"Hey, Professor Becker!" A young blonde girl wearing a little too much make up and not enough clothes bounded over to him, drawing his attention away from me. He offered her a kind but distracted smile. She was rambling on about how she just HAD to take another one of his classes, since he had inspired her so much last semester.

Yea, I bet he 'inspired' you, thirsty bitch.

I flinched back at my own hostile thoughts. Why was I getting so jealous? Damn it, how could this be happening? I finally manage to find a nice man, one that makes me feel like nobody else ever has, and he's my fucking professor.

Life is so damn cruel.

That's when I remembered my text from earlier. He had responded to me. I lifted my phone, gasping when I read the screen.

"*I would never. If my head got any bigger, it wouldn't be able to fit between those pretty legs of yours*."

He was sending me dirty things. In front of his students.

Ah! I could just scream! It was even worse knowing that he was my teacher. Yet, it also made it more exciting somehow…

No. Control your hormones. This is so wrong.

By the time I lifted my head again, the blonde bimbo was perched in the front row and he was back to watching me. Judging by the slight pink hue to his cheeks, he was just as flustered as I was over his risque text. He offered an apologetic smile, before clearing his throat, getting the attention of the class.

"Why don't we begin? My name is Professor Becker and this is Introduction to Painting."