Chapter 22
**Sara**
I took a deep breath, weighing my options. On one hand, it could be a great distraction. On the other...
Me: I appreciate the offer, but I'll pass it on for now. Maybe some other time?
James: Your loss. Let me know if you change your mind.
Me: Will do. Thanks for the chat.
I put my phone down, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Part of me wanted to take him up on his offer, to lose myself in someone new and forget about Tom. But another part knew it wouldn't solve anything.
"Well, that was... something," I muttered, running a hand through my hair.
I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the night sky. The stars twinkled back at me, indifferent to my inner turmoil. My mind drifted back to Tom – his intense gaze, confident smile, and how he made me feel when we were together.
"Stop it, Sara," I scolded myself. "He's your professor now. It can't happen again."
But try as I might, I couldn't shake the memories of our night together. The way his hands felt on my skin, his voice whispering in my ear, the electricity that sparked between us with every touch.
I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "This is ridiculous. I'm acting like a lovesick teenager."
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I had to face Tom – Professor Blackwood – every day until I finished my MBA. Which, by the way, felt like it would take approximately a million years.
"Great job, Sara," I muttered to myself. "You've really outdone yourself this time."
I stood up, pacing back and forth on my balcony. My mind raced through all the awkward scenarios that awaited me. Would he call on me in class? Would I stutter like an idiot every time I had to speak? Would I accidentally call him Tom instead of Professor Blackwood?
"Maybe I could transfer to another school," I mused. "Or fake my own death. That's totally normal, right?"
I snorted at my own ridiculous thoughts. "Yeah, because running away from your problems always works out so well."
With a sigh, I flopped back into my chair. The city lights twinkled below, oblivious to my ridiculous predicament. I mean, who accidentally sleeps with their future professor? It's not like they put that in the student handbook.
"Welcome to MBA 101: How to Avoid Awkward Eye Contact with the Guy You've Seen Naked."
I snorted at my imaginary course title. Maybe I should suggest it to the dean. It'd probably be more useful than half the classes I was taking.
My phone buzzed again, and I glanced at it warily. Was it another message from James? Nope, it was just Jessica.
Jessica: Hey, girl! How are you holding up after today's shock?
I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Jessica to check in on my mental state while simultaneously reminding me of my embarrassment.
Me: Oh, you know. Just peachy. Thinking about changing my name and moving to Antarctica. You?
Jessica: LOL. Don't be dramatic. It's not that bad.
Me: That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to look him in the eye every day, knowing what his O-face looks like.
Jessica: OMG Sara! TMI!
Me: You asked!
Jessica: Fair point. So what's the plan?
I stared at her message, my mind blank. Plan? What plan? My only plan so far involved hiding under my desk whenever Tom entered the room.
Me: Plan? Uh... survive? Not spontaneously combust from embarrassment? Avoid all eye contact for the next two years?
Jessica: Solid plan. Very mature.
Me: Thanks. I thought so, too.
I could practically hear Jessica's exasperated sigh through the phone.
Jessica: Look, why don't we go out tomorrow night? Take your mind off things?
I hesitated. On one hand, drowning my sorrows in tequila sounded pretty good right about now. On the other hand, the last time I went out with her to drink, I ended up in this mess.
Me: I don't know... What if we run into him?
I stared at my phone, waiting for Jessica's response. When it came, I nearly dropped the device in shock.
Jessica: Girl, you need to loosen up! Why don't you just swing by his place and rock his world again?
"Oh my god, Jessica!" I exclaimed out loud. My fingers flew across the screen as I typed out a response.
Me: Are you insane?! He's our PROFESSOR now!
Jessica: So? Live a little! Besides, I bet he'd give you an A+ for... extracurricular activities.
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "I need new friends," I muttered to myself. After a moment, I picked up my phone again and dialed Jessica's number. This conversation was too ridiculous for texting.
She picked up on the second ring. "Hey, hot stuff! Ready to go professor-hunting?"
"Jessica!" I hissed into the phone. "Will you please stop? I'm not going to sleep with him again!"
"Aw, come on," she whined. "Where's your sense of adventure?"
"Thank you very much, but my sense of adventure doesn't extend to potentially ruining my academic career."
"But think about it," Jessica persisted. "The thrill, the danger, the hot, steamy-"
"Stop!" I interrupted. "I don't want to think about it. I want to forget it ever happened."
Jessica snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that. Especially when you have to see him every day, looking all sexy and professorial."
I groaned again. "You're not helping."
"I'm totally helping," she argued. "I'm trying to get you to embrace this amazing opportunity!"
"Amazing opportunity for what? Getting expelled?"
"For having the best sex of your life with a hot professor who just happens to be brilliant and successful!"
"I appreciate your... enthusiasm, but I don't think this is a good idea."
"Fine," she huffed. "But when you're sitting in class, daydreaming about ripping his clothes off, don't come crying to me."
"Trust me, I won't," I said dryly.
"So, what are you going to do then? Just ignore the elephant in the room?"
"I don't know. Act professional, I guess? Pretend nothing ever happened?"
Jessica laughed. "Oh, honey. Good luck with that."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I grumbled.
"Anytime, babe. Now, are you sure you don't want to go out tomorrow night? We could find you a nice, non-professor rebound."
I considered it for a moment. "Maybe. I'll let you know."
"Alright, but don't wait too long. Your lady parts might shrivel up and die from lack of use."
"Goodbye, Jessica," I said firmly, hanging up before she could say anything else outrageous.
I tossed my phone aside and stared at the ceiling, wondering how on earth I would survive this semester. One thing was for sure – it would be anything but boring.
I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling and weighing my options. Should I go out or stay in? Should I risk another embarrassing encounter or wallow in self-pity?
"Ugh, when did my life become a bad rom-com?" I groaned, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to my chest.
The thought of going out and potentially meeting someone new was both thrilling and terrifying. On one hand, it could be a great distraction from the whole Tom... I mean, Professor Blackwood's situation. On the other hand, my track record with one-night stands wasn't exactly stellar.
I mean, look where the last one got me – fantasizing about my professor and contemplating a life of celibacy and cats.
"Maybe I should just become a nun," I muttered. "Do nuns have to worry about accidentally sleeping with their professors?"
I snorted at my own ridiculous thoughts. "Get it together, Sara. You're not joining a convent because of one awkward situation."
I rolled over and grabbed my phone, scrolling through my contacts. My thumb hovered over Jessica's name. She'd be thrilled if I agreed to go out, but did I want to deal with her not-so-subtle attempts to set me up with every guy in sight?
"It's not like I need her help to make bad decisions," I grumbled. "I'm perfectly capable of doing that on my own."
Still, the idea of sitting at home alone seemed pretty pathetic. And who knows? Maybe I would meet a nice, normal guy who wasn't my professor or a cheating ex.
"Ha!" I laughed out loud. "Nice, normal guy. In this city? Good one, Sara."
I hesitated, but the more I considered it, the more appealing the notion became. I could dress up in something alluring, have a few cocktails, and dance a little. It didn't have to lead anywhere. Just a night out to momentarily forget my troubles. The prospect of letting loose and indulging in some harmless fun was increasingly tempting.
Perhaps I could even meet someone intriguing, someone who might make me forget my ex and all the baggage that came with him. My body ached with loneliness, and the idea of having a strong, masculine presence to satisfy my most intimate needs was tantalizing.
Would this be the night I finally found the connection I'd been craving?
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