Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
She looks different than she did in the summer, although a bikini shifts the focus. Still, it makes it tough to guess her age.
Her full lips thin as she rolls her shoulders back, sitting up straighter in her chair as she narrows her eyes at me.
“I should report you to the athletics department. Or your coach,” she whispers angrily.
I nod my agreement. “You absolutely have every right to do either or both of those things. And if you choose to, I will deal with whatever the consequences are.”
Her brow furrows, as if she’s confused by my response. I’m sure she expected me to come here and threaten to blackmail her again because we slept together.
“You could be expelled,” she adds.
“I know.” It’s one of the reasons I’m here, but not the reason, I realize. I nod to the chair beside her desk. “May I sit?”
I can practically feel her unease like another body in the room, and I wish I could do something to assuage that.
Eventually, she motions to the chair. Then she crosses her legs and her arms. Closed posture. Defensive. She also rolls her chair slightly toward the door. Maybe to get a better view of the hall, maybe so she has an easy escape route.
I set my backpack at my feet and clasp my hands together, propping my elbows on my knees.
I keep my eyes down and notice that her socks have little bunnies on them.
“I’m not here to plead my case with you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I say quietly. Before I walked in, I was, but now . . . not so much.
“Then what’s the purpose of you coming here? I’m aware of who your father is, and how much money has been donated to the school over the past four years. Are you here to tell me everyone is going to look the other way on this?”
“I sure as fuck hope they wouldn’t.”
Although I’m aware there’s a possibility that this could get swept under the rug, should she decide to bring it forward, the thought makes my blood boil. And honestly, there must be video footage of me going in there that some lazy security guard is too busy jerking it to internet porn to be bothered keeping up with. It pisses me off to think that if she did stand up for herself in this instance, she might very well be brushed off, and I could get no more than a slap on the wrist.
I look up at her a moment. “I’m actually here to make sure you’re okay.”
If she crosses her arms any tighter, she might crack like a walnut. “Make sure I’m okay? Why?”
I glance into the hallway as a pair of students walk by. I wait until their voices fade before I continue. “You were in a place where you should have felt comfortable, and I had no right to be there. At all. If I’d known you were in the locker room, I wouldn’t have stepped foot inside, Professor.”
“I still don’t understand how you got in there in the first place,” she whispers and fingers her collar, tugging it nervously.
“I found the key a while back, and since it was after hours, I thought it wouldn’t be an issue,” I admit, unable to stop myself from coming all the way clean. “And the sauna in the guys’ locker room had a funk. Women are better at keeping things clean, and I’m less likely to end up with plantar warts or a rash I can’t identify.”
She scoffs and looks away. “That’s a stereotype.”
“It smells a lot better in there.” I run my hands down my thighs. “Anyway, that’s not really the point. When I got home, I realized I might have made you feel vulnerable. And I shouldn’t have said I could report you for . . . what happened in the summer. That wasn’t right, especially under the circumstances. So if you want to report me, I completely understand, and I will corroborate your story.” I wait for the sinking feeling, the panic now that I’ve laid it all out for her, but it doesn’t come. I know I’m doing the right thing, regardless of the cost.
“Corroborate my story?” She fingers the buttons on her cardigan.
“If you want to tell them I was in the women’s sauna and shouldn’t have been, that you were alone and I made you feel unsafe, I won’t deny that it happened, and I will take full responsibility for my actions. Even if it means facing an expulsion.” Or losing my potential career.
She clasps and unclasps her hands. “You’re telling me you’re willing to risk an expulsion because you might have made me feel unsafe?” Skepticism laces her words.
I glance toward the door and blow out a breath. I don’t want her second-guessing my reasons for doing this. “I can imagine that having me in your class this semester hasn’t been easy for you.” I tap on the arm of the chair. The semester ends in five weeks. She’s a visiting professor. Whatever I tell her isn’t going to matter in the grand scheme of things.