**Sara**
Tom's lips twitched, clearly fighting back a smile. "Of course, you're absolutely right. Professionalism is key."
I straightened my shoulders, trying to channel my inner businesswoman. "Exactly. So, from now on, we should maintain a strictly professional relationship. No more... um, extracurricular activities."
Oh God. Did I really just say "extracurricular activities"? Kill me now.
Tom nodded solemnly, but I could see the laughter in his eyes. "Absolutely. Strictly professional. Although I must say, your definition of 'professional' seems rather... intimate."
I blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"
He gestured between us, and I suddenly realized how close we were standing. In my attempt to be "professional," I had somehow moved closer to him, close enough to smell his cologne. It was the same scent he'd worn that night and was doing dangerous things to my concentration.
"Oh!" I yelped, jumping back like I'd been burned. "I didn't... I mean, I wasn't..."
"Relax, Sara. I'm just teasing you."
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. "Right. Teasing. Because that's what professors do with their students. Totally normal and professional."
He raised an eyebrow. "Would you prefer I treat you like any other student?"
"Yes!" I said quickly. Then, realizing how eager I sounded, I cleared my throat. "I mean, yes. That would be... appropriate."
"Very well, then. I noticed you seemed a bit distracted during today's lecture. Is everything alright? Do you need any additional assistance with the material?"
I stared at him, mouth agape. This was what I wanted, right? Professional distance. So why did it suddenly feel so... wrong?
"I... um... no, I'm fine," I stammered. "I'm just a bit overwhelmed with the new semester."
Tom nodded sympathetically. "I understand. The transition can be challenging. My office hours are posted on the syllabus if you need any help. And remember, your first assignment is due next week."
I nodded mutely, feeling like I was in some bizarre parallel universe. Was this the same man who had made me scream his name just a few nights ago?
"Well, if that's all, I should get going," Tom said, his voice suddenly all business. "Remember, office hours if you need help."
Before I could respond, Jessica materialized beside us, juggling three coffee cups. "I come bearing gifts!" she announced, too cheerfully for my liking.
She thrust a cup at Tom, who looked surprised but accepted it with a polite smile. "Oh, thank you. That's very kind."
"No problem, Professor Hottie," Jessica chirped, and I swear I saw Tom's eyes widen slightly. "I figured you could use a pick-me-up after that riveting lecture on... what was it again? The sexual tension of money?"
I choked on air. "Time value!" I wheezed. "Time value of money!"
Tom cleared his throat, looking caught between amusement and discomfort. "Yes, well, thank you again for the coffee. I should be going. I'll see you both in class."
As he walked away, I resisted the urge to throttle Jessica. Instead, I grabbed my coffee and took a long swig, burning my tongue.
Jessica watched Tom's retreating figure with undisguised appreciation. "So," she said, turning to me with a grin that could only be described as diabolical. "When's the next rendezvous? Are you two planning another steamy night of 'studying'?"
I nearly spat out my coffee. "Jessica!" I hissed, looking around frantically to make sure no one had overheard. "Would you keep your voice down? There is no 'next time'. There is no 'rendezvous'. There is nothing but a very awkward student-teacher relationship that I'm desperately trying to navigate without dying of embarrassment."
"Oh, please. I saw the way he was looking at you. That man wants to 'tutor' you in more than just finance, if you know what I mean."
"I'm begging you to stop," I groaned, feeling my face heat up for what felt like the millionth time that day. "This isn't funny, Jess. This is my academic career we're talking about."
"And what a way to advance it," she quipped, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "I bet he'd give you straight A's if you gave him some extra credit work."
"That's it. I'm transferring to another university. Maybe another country. Do you think Antarctica has a good MBA program?"
Jessica laughed, linking her arm through mine as we started walking. "Come on, it's not that bad. So you slept with your professor before he was your professor. Big deal. It's not like you knew he'd be teaching us."
"That's not the point, Jess. The fact is, I slept with him, and now he's our professor. It's awkward, it's unprofessional, and it's driving me crazy!"
Jessica sipped her coffee. "Well, who knows? Maybe by the end of the semester, you'll be back in his bed, naked as the day you were born."
"Jessica!" I sputtered, feeling my face turn beet red. "That is not going to happen. Ever. Again."
But even as I said it, a traitorous part of my brain couldn't help but wonder... what if it did happen again? What if I found myself back in Tom's luxurious apartment, his hands exploring my body, his lips trailing kisses down my neck...
No! I shook my head violently, trying to dislodge the thoughts. I couldn't think about this. I couldn't think about sex with Tom. With Professor Blackwood. Whatever, I was supposed to call him now.
"Earth to Sara," Jessica said, waving her hand in front of my face. "You okay there? You looked like you were having a pretty intense daydream."
I blinked, coming back to reality. "I wasn't daydreaming," I lied. "I was just... thinking about the assignment."
"Uh-huh," Jessica said, clearly not buying it. "And does this 'assignment' involve Professor Hottie and a distinct lack of clothing?"
"Can we please talk about something else? Anything else? I'll even listen to you gush about Brad for the millionth time if it means we can stop discussing my sex life."
Jessica laughed, patting my shoulder sympathetically. "Alright, alright. But just remember, if you ever need any tips on how to seduce a professor..."
"I'm not listening!" I sang, plugging my ears childishly as we walked towards our next class.
As we settled into our seats for our Marketing Strategy lecture, I tried to focus on the present. No more thoughts about Tom, or that night, or what might happen in the future. I was here to learn, to get my MBA, and to move on with my life.
But as the professor droned on about market segmentation and target audiences, my mind kept drifting back to Tom. To the way he looked at me during class, to the memory of his touch, to the impossible situation we now found ourselves in.
I sighed, resigning myself to what was clearly going to be a very long, very complicated semester.