Bewildered, I look up into Professor Sebastian’s face. He’s the man I snatched and kissed in the dark. My gaze lands on his mouth—his soft, plump mouth that touched mine as his fingers fondled the back of my head and lower back. It’s not just in my head. It’s real.
But how did he end up right next to me at that precise moment?
Stop it, Anya!He’s changed the suit and no longer wears the gold mask.
“Really?” Kristoff’s scowl transforms into a beam. “Why didn’t you say so?”
God, he shouldn’t be smiling right now.
“The professor’s right. I didn’t recognize him,” I clarify, my voice sounding like a sigh.
“Actually, I’d like to ask Ms. Scott to a dance,” the professor says.
No! “What?”
“Ms. Scott. May I?” He extends his hand to me.
“Go on,” Kristoff urges, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Maybe you could ask him.”
“About what?” He won’t say this if he realizes he is the man I kissed.
“What else? About school, of course.”
“How about you?”
“I’ll be here.”
Fine. It’ll only make my wariness obvious if I refuse now. Just one dance, so I can also apologize for my inappropriate behavior.
“Of course, it’s... It’s an honor, professor.”
In contrast to when we first kissed, when he was bold, he now cautiously touches my fingers and takes me to the dancefloor. The professor clasps my hand and slides it into my palm, lightly caressing it before gliding his free hand to my waist. The current music finishes, and a new song with a slow beat starts to play.
“You must be surprised. I didn’t introduce myself earlier,” he says, likely to start a conversation.
“It’s alright, professor. I wouldn’t expect it was you.” I try to avoid his eyes. I sense his blue eyes are still trying to assess me.
“Because I’m hiding.”
My curiosity sparks. “Why?”
“Because I’m sought by everyone at this party.”
“I’m sure it isn’t everyone.”
“I meant, everyone seems to like interviewing me,” he clarifies.
“Not me.” I nip my bottom lip. But I did agree to come here to meet him. “Well, sort of.”
“Which is it?”
“I can’t think of anything important to ask you if I were to interview you. Kristoff presumed I had anything, but it’d be random.”
“Like what?”
I would really like to ask him if he can help me with songwriting and tell him where I’m weak, but “I can just ask you in school, so I’m not asking them here. Not at a party, at any rate. I think it’s inappropriate—whoa!” He suddenly spins me around and brings me back into his arms.
“But you could come up with something else. Perhaps an impression,” he suggests.
“I really have nothing to say.” I chuckle nervously.
“Don’t think of me as someone who bites. Are you afraid of me, Ms. Scott?”
“I’m just a little tense.”
“Why is that?”
“Because.”
“Don’t be. I’m not your professor yet, so you can talk to me like any other dance partner. So, what are you thinking?”
I meet his mesmerizing blue eyes. “The entire school expects your arrival next term, yet I met you here. It’s fascinating.”
“I’m glad I fascinated you.” His eyes sparkle with curiosity. “So you came here to see me, huh?”
Butterflies fill my stomach. Why must he make it sound so personal? “Because you’re our new professor,” I simply say.
“I see.” He chuckles, and it’s deep and smooth, just like his voice, which makes my stomach churn. “How about you forget I’m your new professor tonight and finish two more songs?”
Our bodies move in perfect harmony with the music. But two more songs? Is that something I’m prepared to do? I just don’t understand his sudden, bewildering attention.
It’s the kiss. After all, we had a sensual, mind-blowing one.
“I’d like to apologize,” I say.
“For what, Ms. Scott?”
“Earlier, you know...”
His lips form a half-smile. “Please elaborate.”
“I kissed you,” I murmur.
“Correction. It’s a mutual thing. I kissed you back, but I won’t apologize.”
My belly clenches, and hot tingles trace down between my thighs. Oh, God.
“But it’s wrong.”
“Because I’m just a random stranger you met at the party? Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell a soul. We’re not even breaking any rules.”
I’m not sure I’ll be able to tell Kristoff Julian’s the guy I kissed. If I tell him, I’m afraid it will jeopardize their strong brotherly bond.
But I should! I should tell him.
“Let’s just forget about it, please. I deeply regret my actions—”
“Relax, it’s an accident. There’s no need to over analyze. And don’t worry. I don’t grade my students based on incidents like this that happen outside of school.”
“Yes, yes. I shouldn’t be worried. It could happen to anyone, and it could be someone else I kissed, right? It just so happened that you were nearby.”
“Is that so, Ms. Scott?”
“Yes, it could be someone else.”
His soft expression hardens as if he’s been hurt. “Like who?”
I’m not sure if the question is fitting, given the thickening atmosphere around us. But my cheeks are suddenly warm. Right now, my face is probably as red as a tomato. If someone overhears us, they might think we’re flirting.
That you are...“I don’t think I’ll be able to dance with you for the next song.” I jerk away from his arms.
Astonishment spread across his features. “I’m... I’m sorry, Ms. Scott. Am I behaving rudely?”
Okay, I have to admit that he is considerate. “No, I think it’s my fault too.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I was... Nothing.”
“Do you want to know what I think?”
“What?”
“Take my hand.” He extends his palm to me as he gazes thoughtfully and speaks softly, “Please, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to dance with you again.”
I swallow. He’s right.
I like dancing with him badly, so I shouldn’t be deceiving myself.
“Fine, I’ll dance with you, professor.”
“I’m not used to being addressed by that title. It makes me feel old. I’m not even that old. How about calling me by my given name in the next song?”
I can’t stop smiling. He is only thirty-three years old. “Alright, JulianJulian pulls me back into his arms, and our bodies become much closer. “Do you want to know what I think?” he repeats.
“Yes, please tell me.”
“I believe something else is bothering you by the way you’re acting. Do you have a boyfriend?”
“I have,” I admit outrightly.
“That’s it.” His face becomes somber. “Is that Kristoff?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s what complicates things, right? But I think you should tell him. He’ll understand.”
“I already told him, and yes, he understood. But now that I know it was you, I’m lost for words. This shouldn’t even be an issue.”
“It could be if you let your mind wander.”
Blood rises on my face.
“Tell him, Anya. Forget it’s because it’s me, and it’s complicated. If you keep this from him, the real issue will arise.”
Anya“I’ll tell him. You’re right. I shouldn’t be keeping this from him. That is what trust is all about.”
He beams. “Now you’re getting it.”
“Thank you. Can we now move on?” Because I already feel like passing out.
“As you wish.” His charming grin reappears.
“Do you communicate in this way with your other students too?”
“Let’s see. Do you know what my friends call me?”
“What?”
“That I’m eccentric, individualist, and someone who makes unpredictable decisions.” He beams once more. “I’m unbalanced.”
“Are they right?”
“It all depends on what people see. They think it’s strange if I do something they’re not used to. I’m an individualist if I fight for something they don’t believe in. They call it a lack of good decision-making because I decide based on what I believe is right. I don’t think all of my decisions are right, but they can’t all be wrong.”
“Perhaps your friends don’t really know you. At least, the real you.”
Like only Kristoff and Lora truly understand who I am.
“Well, you’re not wrong.”
“Did you try to explain?”
“I showed them, but they still don’t get it. I don’t try to please everyone. I just do whatever I want.”
“Then I believe you’re just a regular person like everyone else. It’s just that the social standards of your friends are different. People make false assumptions about what they are not, whereas I believe each individual is unique.”
“What a sensible statement. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but what does that have to do with my question?”
He laughs. “I speak to my students, but not this way—at parties while dancing with them, if you understand what I mean. I like to talk to you because I want to, and it’s entirely up to me. There’s nothing wrong with that. Maybe I’m really eccentric.”
I giggle. I can’t help myself. “Perhaps you are.”
“I enjoy dancing with you, Anya. You are brilliant. It’s been a pleasure to finally get to know you.”
“Finally?”
“I mean, we met on the porch, and then there was that accident“Of course.” I’m relieved to know who the mysterious man I kissed was rather than wondering for days or months. Perhaps he feels the same way.
“I’m glad it was you,” I mumble.
“Come again?” He leans in close, and his cheek brushes on mine. I’m not sure I can handle this magnetic pull any longer. Nothing like this has ever happened to me.
“I’m glad it’s you rather than someone else.”
“Are you sure you should say that?”
“Of course, it should have been my boyfriend. But I’m just saying that if it hadn’t been you, I might have met an asshole—”
“I understand, Anya,” he cut me off.
Our final song ends, as do his body movements. He lets go of me and takes a step back.
“Thank you for the dance, Ms. Scott.”
So I’m back to being just Ms. ScottThings will be different after tonight. He will be standing in front of the classroom, and I will be his student.
What a night to remember!
If this encounter were to inspire a song, it should be titled “A Dance with my Eccentric Professor.”