Chapter 30
**Tom**
I felt my face flush as I quickly adjusted the fabric, smoothing it back into place.
"Sorry about that," I said, though she was obviously in no state to hear me. "Gotta keep those assets covered, you know?"
I knelt down, slid her heels off her feet, and set them aside. Sara let out a contented sigh, snuggling deeper into the pillows. I pulled the soft comforter over her, tucking it around her.
"There we go. Nice and cozy."
I took a step back, surveying the scene. Sara looked utterly at peace, her features relaxed in sleep. A stray lock of hair had fallen across her face, and I resisted the urge to brush it aside.
"Sweet dreams, Sleeping Beauty," I murmured, reluctantly turning to leave the room. I paused as I reached the doorway and glanced back at her one last time. "This is definitely going to be an interesting semester."
With that, I quietly closed the door, hoping she would sleep off the alcohol in peace. I made my way to the kitchen, needing a strong cup of coffee to calm my nerves. My mind raced with questions and concerns, but I pushed them aside for the moment. Right now, the priority was ensuring Sara's safety and comfort.
I shuffled into the kitchen, my mind still reeling from the events of the night. The coffee maker beckoned like a beacon of hope in the darkness.
As the coffee began to percolate, filling the air with its rich aroma, I leaned against the counter and ran a hand through my disheveled hair. My eyes drifted towards the closed bedroom door where Sara lay sleeping.
"Well, this is quite the pickle you've gotten yourself into," I said to my reflection in the microwave. "Harboring an inebriated student in your apartment. Stellar career move."
The coffee maker gurgled its final notes, and I poured myself a steaming mug.
I sipped my coffee, wincing as it scalded my tongue. The bitter taste matched my mood as I contemplated the mess I'd gotten into.
As the caffeine began to work its magic, my mind wandered into dangerous territory. I couldn't help but remember our passionate encounter from before – the way Sara's skin felt under my fingertips, the soft sounds she made as we...
"Nope, nope, nope," I said aloud, shaking my head vigorously. "That's off-limits now, buddy. Student. Professor. Big no-no."
But the traitorous part of my brain whispered, "What if she wants to continue where we left off? What if she wakes up and decides our one-night stand deserves an encore?"
I groaned, setting my mug down with more force than necessary. "Great, now I'm arguing with myself. And losing."
I paced the kitchen, trying to banish the tempting thoughts from my mind. "She's your student," I reminded myself sternly. "Even if she wanted to—which she probably doesn't, by the way—it would be completely unethical, not to mention illegal. And stupid. So, so stupid."
But another part of me, the part that remembered the electricity between us that night, wasn't so easily silenced. "But what if..." it persisted.
"No!" I said firmly, then immediately lowered my voice, remembering Sara sleeping just a few feet away. "No," I repeated in a whisper. "That ship has sailed. It crashed and burned. It sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Pick your metaphor."
I glanced at the clock on the microwave. 12:37 AM. I sighed, realizing I needed to get some sleep myself. There was just one small problem – Sara was occupying my bed.
"Looks like you're bunking in the guest room tonight," I told myself, heading towards the spare bedroom.
As I passed by my bedroom door, I paused. For a moment, I entertained the wild idea of joining Sara in bed—not to do anything inappropriate, of course—just to sleep. Maybe cuddle a little...
"And that's quite enough of that," I said, giving myself a mental slap. "Guest room. Now."
I shuffled into the guest room, feeling like a stranger in my apartment. The room was sparsely decorated, with a bed, a small dresser, and a lamp. Compared to my bedroom, it felt cold and uninviting.
"Well, this is cozy," I muttered sarcastically, flopping onto the bed.
The mattress creaked in protest, reminding me why I rarely used this room. I stared at the ceiling, watching the shadows dance as cars passed outside.
"You know, Tom," I said to myself, "when you decided to become a professor, I bet you never imagined you'd end up in this situation."
I chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. "Nope, definitely didn't see this coming. 'Beware of beautiful students bearing tequila shots' should've been in the job description."
As I lay there, trying to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress, my mind wandered back to Sara. Was she sleeping peacefully? Would she freak out when she woke up in a strange bed? Should I leave her a note explaining things?
"Oh yeah, that'd go over real well," I snorted, rolling my eyes at my sarcasm. "'Dear Sara, please don't panic when you wake up. I swear I didn't kidnap you or anything nefarious like that. You just got spectacularly drunk, and since I had no clue where you lived, I brought you to my place for safekeeping. Sincerely, your definitely-not-creepy professor who's now questioning every life choice that led to this moment.'"
I rolled over, punching the pillow into a more comfortable shape. "Face it, buddy. There's no way this doesn't look bad."
Just then, I heard a thud from the other room, followed by a muffled groan.
"Uh oh," I said, sitting up quickly. "Sounds like Sleeping Beauty's awake. And probably not feeling too princely."
I debated whether to check on her or pretend I hadn't heard anything. After a moment's hesitation, I decided I couldn't just leave her to potentially hurt herself, stumbling around in the dark.
Cautiously, I made my way to my bedroom door and knocked softly. "Sara? Are you okay in there?"
Silence. Not even a peep. Great, she was either passed out again or... well, I didn't want to consider the alternatives.
"Sara?" I called again, a little louder this time. Still nothing.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever I might find on the other side of that door. "Alright, I'm coming in. Please don't be dead or... indecent."
I turned the knob and pushed the door open slowly, peeking around the edge like a cartoon character. The room was dark, but I could make out a shape on the floor near the bed.
"Oh, for crying out loud," I muttered, flicking on the light switch.
Sara was sprawled on the floor in a tangle of blankets, her hair a wild mess around her face. She looked like she'd lost a fight with my comforter.
I took a step into the room. "Sara? You alright down there?"
That's when all hell broke loose.
Sara's eyes snapped open, focusing on me with a mix of confusion and terror. And then she screamed. Not a dainty little yelp, mind you, but a full-on, horror-movie-worthy shriek that probably woke up half the building.
I jumped back, banging my elbow on the doorframe. "Ow! Sara, it's me! It's Tom! Professor Blackwood!"
She kept screaming, scrambling backward until she hit the nightstand, knocking over a lamp in the process.
"Stop screaming!" I yelled, which, in retrospect, probably wasn't the most comforting thing to say to a terrified woman.
Sara paused for a breath, then promptly resumed her ear-piercing wail.
"Oh, for the love of..." I clapped my hands over my ears. "Sara! You're safe! You're in my apartment!"
She finally stopped screaming, but the look she gave me suggested that being in my apartment wasn't exactly comforting news.
"What... what am I doing here?" she asked, her voice hoarse from all the screaming. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in her surroundings with confusion and dawning horror.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
