Educated in Love (A Student Teacher Romance)

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Summary

Rebecca Thomson is a college student who doesn't believe in love. Professor Keaton Henderson teaches about it for a living. So when Rebecca is tasked with writing a report detailing the origins of love, she does the only thing she can think of to pass his class: enlist the help of her irresistible professor. **This book is a first draft. While everything I upload is proof-read and grammar-checked, some of the plot points/scenes may be changed later on in the writing process.**

Genre:
Romance / Erotica
Author:
Amaya
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
25
Rating:
4.8 20 reviews
Age Rating:
18+

Chapter 1 (Beck)

“Come on Becks, you couldn’t find even one thing you liked about the guy?” The corners of Paige’s lips turn down as she pins me with her most disappointed stare, but she can’t hide the pity swimming in her eyes. We didn’t get ten minutes into our movie before she started prying about my date.

“I already told you. I’m not looking for a relationship. Between our classes starting and my job, I just don’t have the time.”

Paige huffs. “Look,” she says, pointing a finger at me. “Jeremy is a nice guy. If I knew you were so anti-dating, I wouldn’t have tried to set you up.” She hits pause on the remote and turns toward me fully, her pin-straight strawberry blonde hair tumbling over her shoulder. “Was ditching him halfway through dinner really necessary?”

Four years ago, I might have felt embarrassed by my actions. I never would have considered standing someone up, let alone use the guise of a bathroom break to escape the prospect of enduring a long, agonizing dining experience with a guy I didn’t even like. But it’s not four years ago. I’m a sophomore in college now, and I’ll be damned if I let another man into my life only to ruin it. Not when I’ve been making so much progress.

Paige might be my best friend, but she’s a hopeless romantic through and through. She doesn’t understand the kinds of evils that can lurk beneath a handsome smile and tempting body, and, honestly, I hope she never does. Her unwavering optimism is what makes her her brilliant self. It’s foolish and irrational, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I’m sorry, P, I thought I could handle it. I guess I’m just not ready.”

I can tell she wants to disagree, but instead she bites back her retort and purses her lips—for all of three seconds. “Kody is already giving me the silent treatment. He said he’s never seen Jeremy so upset. The whole team is giving him shit for it.”

Guilt settles heavily in my stomach. I don’t particularly care about Jeremy’s pride and social standing, but maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to flake on her boyfriend’s best friend. The last thing I intended was to drive a wedge between the two of them.

Paige Tillis, my best friend, and Kody Hughs, AU’s star football player, have been inseparable ever since their junior year at a small high school in Wyoming. When she chose to move out of state for college, he put aside his own plans to come along with her. Most people would take their relationship as proof that love exists, but I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.

No one is that perfect.

Still, Kody is important to her. I’m rooting for them, really, but I just wouldn’t be too surprised if Paige were to discover some nasty skeletons hiding in his closet. Everybody has them.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have agreed to it,” I tell her. She glares at me for a moment longer before her blue eyes soften with empathy.

“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have pressured you into going.” Paige reaches across the couch to grab my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “I promise I won’t rush you. I was just trying to find you love, but I’m starting to think that love has to find you.”

I roll my eyes and give her shoulder a nudge. “Just play the movie, P.”


Two weeks later and twenty minutes before my first class of the year and I already know I’m going to be late. I somehow managed to sleep through my alarm for the first time ever in my life, and Paige wasn’t home to make sure I was up. She spent the night in Kody’s dorm, all of the lingering drama with Jeremy totally forgotten.

And to make matters worse, it’s raining. Like full on torrential downpour that I have no choice but to walk through. All. the. way. across. campus. I can’t escape the feeling that all of this is some kind of bad omen.

I hastily comb through my long black hair before haphazardly tossing it up into a ponytail. I don’t have the time to do my makeup, but in a lame attempt to compensate for my bare face, I throw on the cutest outfit I can find—my black skinny jeans, brown wool sweater, and my favorite heeled ankle boots. It’s not ideal, but it will have to do. I grab a banana for breakfast and head outside, steeling myself for the trek to class.

I end up being ten minutes late, and whatever chance I had of getting away with it is ripped away from me the moment I slip through the door.

The entire room falls silent as I step inside and scan the area for an open seat. To my dismay, it seems that many of the other sophomores are enrolled in this class. The Psychology of Human Relationships. The only unoccupied seat is the one in the very front, closest to where the professor stands at his lectern.

I rush to get situated, a blush creeping up the back of my neck. God, the silence is so awkward. My shoes, soaked through from the rain, squeak against the linoleum, and strands of my wet hair lay plastered to my cheeks. I would love nothing more than to bury my head and hide from the curious stares.

The room is still hushed after I slump down in my seat and quickly set up my laptop for note taking. Frowning, I glance at the professor to see what’s going on. The moment I meet his eyes, the breath wooshes straight out from my lungs.

Professor Keaton Henderson. AU’s most feared instructor. He’s known all around campus for his unforgiving pop quizzes, impossible tests, and ... zero-tolerance-policy for tardiness. Shit, shit, shit!

His ebony eyes are locked onto mine, and I’m suddenly aware of the vein that’s threatening to bulge out of his neck. His muscular arms are crossed over his broad chest, and his cropped brown hair lays perfectly styled on his head. His handsomeness is unnerving.

Did I forget to mention that he’s also known around campus for his impossible good looks?

I swallow, my nerves skyrocketing even higher.

“Pop quiz,” Professor Henderson says, still holding my gaze. “First question. What’s my late policy?”

I can feel the stares of the other students searing my back, but my mouth is sealed shut. I couldn’t answer if I tried.

“If for some reason it wasn’t already clear, I was asking you,” He says, pointing a finger directly at me. “What’s my late policy?”

My eyes bug out and my throat dries. “I don’t,” I shake my head. “I don’t know, sir,“. Snickers ring out from across the room.

The professor shakes his head. “Not good enough ... ?”

“Rebecca,” I say. “Rebecca Thomson.”

Finally, he breaks eye contact with me and fixes his stare on a student laughing in the back row. The laughing immediately stops. “I don’t tolerate tardiness. Moving forward, you can expect to lose the privilege of having a seat if you choose to show up late.” He motions to the wall adjacent to the door. “You will stand there until an opportunity arises for you to claim a seat without disrupting my class.”

Anger bubbles up inside my chest and I clench my hands into fists underneath my desk. This could not be a more humiliating first day. Even so, I shove aside the last of my pride. “Yes, Professor. It won’t happen again.”

He nods, seeming satisfied with my response. Then he grabs the packets from off his desk and distributes them across the room. When he reaches my desk, he pauses, and I steal another look at his flawless appearance.

With eyes of the darkest of brown, and five o’ clock lining his angular jaw, I can finally understand what all the girls see in him. Professor Henderson is undeniably gorgeous, and at the age of 28, he’s renowned for his research on the sociocultural approach to relationship formation. His class is notoriously difficult, and I’ve heard numerous rumors of Henderson’s involvement with students looking to boost their grades.

Some claim his student’s are his favorite conquests, and others maintain that he would never sacrifice his reputation for a piece of college ass.

The sound of him clearing his throat drags me away from my thoughts. “Miss Thomson.” He levels me with a hard stare. “You have earned yourself an extra assignment. I would like a five page report, APA format, on the societal consequences of making special exceptions for established rules. You can turn it in first thing Friday morning.”

I can’t help it as my mouth drops open in shock. Am I hearing this correctly? All consuming fury ignites inside my chest, and I can’t help the bitter words that tumble from my lips.

God, men are such dicks!

“I have a better idea,” I say in a voice as sweet as honey. “How about we conduct an experiment? I’ll continue to show up late, and we can avoid having to guess at the consequences. In fact, I’m almost certain that you’ll realize that one person being tardy is only a disruption if you make a show of doling out punishments.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks, and I almost regret talking back to him. Almost. But I’m not scared of him, and I refuse to let anyone intimidate me. It’s a power people learn to abuse.

“Friday,” he says again. “And if you choose to be so blatantly disrespectful again, I’ll have to re-evaluate your position in my class.” With that, he tosses the syllabus on my desk and stalks back behind the podium.

Asshole.

He continues the rest of the class as if nothing had even happened, and it pisses me off more than it probably should. I’m so thrown off by this morning’s events that I can barely focus on anything he says.

I find it hard to believe that someone like him would get close to his students. Sure, half the girls in the class are currently drooling over him, but he’s been nothing short of professional since the start of his lecture. Not to mention the fact that he’s as unapproachable as an angry drunk.

After informing us about our upcoming assignments and giving a brief introduction to the subject of psychology, he dismisses us. I hesitate as the rest of the students file out of the classroom. Would it be worth trying to talk him out of the report? I have no doubt that I am going to be bogged down with work as it is, and I really don’t need an extra thing to worry about. With that in mind, I decide to approach his desk before I can talk myself out of it.

“Um, Professor?” I ask. He’s leaning back in his chair and scrolling through something on his phone. He doesn’t bother to look up as he responds.

“Hm?”

I find myself getting nervous. Maybe this was a mistake. I should just accept the stupid punishment and get out of here before he has the chance to make a fool out of me twice.

Except I don’t let people push me around. Not anymore.

“I wanted to know if you were serious about that essay.” I scramble for a reasonable excuse. “I understand that you have a strict late policy, and I really am sorry for disrupting the class, but I’m going to be really tied down with work this week. I was wondering if you’ll reconsider.”

That got his attention. He flicks his eyes up to mine, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. My heart is beating so thunderously loud that I worry he might hear it. I don’t know what it is about the guy, but he scares the absolute shit out of me.

“Miss Thomson,” he says in a voice that radiates authority. “You’ll come to learn that I’m always serious. While I’m sure your week will be busy, I have no doubt you can handle an extra assignment. I advise that you leave while you still have some dignity left.”

“Please.” I hate that I can’t let this go. “I think it’s a little ridiculous to punish me for being ten minutes late. Is there anything else I can do?”

I swear his eyes flash. “No,” he answers, leaving no room for debate. And in that moment, I know for certain that there is no getting out of this. I narrow my eyes on him, an idea forming in my head. After an awkward beat of silence, I turn around and march for the door.

He wants to make these ridiculous assignments? Fine. But if he thinks I’ll roll over like some obedient dog, he’s in for a rude awakening.

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