Change of Course: A MM Professor/Student Novel (Change of Hearts Book 3) Read online

  I swallow thickly, forcing my eyes down to break the connection as he sits down again, and I will my thickening cock in my pants to stay put and stand down.

  Well, this is going to be a thoroughly distracting inconvenience this semester.

  “Thank you, Mr. Scott. It sounds like you’re a busy man.” I eye him squarely, my jaw ticking just a bit because I know just how busy he is with all his extra-curricular flings. And I can’t help the jealous intonation in my reply. “You must not have much time for a social life.”

  I don’t expect an answer, but he provides one anyway when he says, “Oh, you’d be surprised. I get around.”

  The little twerp.

  2

  Kyler

  I need to get out of this class as fast as possible because I can already taste blood from the spot where I’ve worried my lip so raw over the past fifty-five minutes as I’ve listened and watched Professor Lucas Mathiasson strut around the front of this lecture hall.

  And strut he did. As if to taunt me.

  Asshole.

  Hot asshole.

  My hands have turned white from how tightly I balled them into fists. I think the seat mate next to me thinks I have some nervous tick from the way she kept scowling at me every five minutes over the annoying leg jiggle I couldn’t keep under control.

  Over the past six weeks, I did my best to dodge the ever-persistent Luc – that’s the name he gave me the night we first met – and then as luck would have it, I ran into him at a kid’s birthday party of all places earlier this month.

  It was a party my friend Brooklyn hosted for Caleb, the boy she is nannying for, and who just happens to be the godson of Lucas. Why does the world have to be so small when I’m trying to avoid the one man who could do me in?

  That day at the birthday pool party, I stuck as close to Brooklyn and my roommate, Peyton, trying to avoid Lucas as best as possible but he eventually cornered me near the pool shed. Where he engaged me in a heated discussion over my ghosting game.

  “Why are you avoiding me? Was I that bad of a lay?” Lucas asks, with vulnerability running through his dreamy eyes, as he shoves a tense hand through his deliciously golden-brown hair. My own fingers twitch from the sensation like an invisible string is attached to my hand.

  “What? No. That’s not it at all. I thought I told you I’m not looking for seconds. We had fun and parted ways. It’s not you, Luc, it’s just the way it is.”

  I throw a hand in the air and gesture to him. And then because I’m a masochist, I take a longing perusal over his attire. He’s the quintessential pool party attendee, looking ever-so-stylish in his black knit Polo shirt, pressed linen chino shorts, Tom Ford sunglasses, and canvas slip-on sneakers. He could easily grace a Tommy Hilfiger ad campaign.

  Luc lifts his sunglasses to his head and stares at me with the same seriously green eyes that I locked onto the night at the bar, narrowing his brows together as if trying to figure out if it’s the truth or a lie as he inhales a breath stilted from frustration.

  And then all the worry seems to dissipate when he gives me a pointed look and crosses his arms at his chest. “And I told you, Kyler, I’m not looking for anything serious, either. I just…” he peels his gaze away from me and glances toward the crowd near the pool.

  From here, no one can hear what we’re talking about, but if anyone looks our way, they’ll see we’re in a heavy debate. In fact, Brooklyn glances over and gives us a small wave, her forehead pinching together in question, searching me for understanding.

  “Listen, here’s the deal. I work a lot. And travel during the summer and it gets lonely,” he flicks his chin in the direction of the crowd, who aren’t paying us any attention at this point. “It puts a damper on my dating life.”

  I can’t help but snort in mocking sarcasm. “Look at you. You could get any woman or man, straight or gay, to fuck you sideways while drowning. It wouldn’t be difficult for you at all to find someone who just wants to have fun.”

  It’s supposed to be a compliment, although said with a terse bite of condemnation. Lucas is a very handsome man who doesn’t come across as overly cocky, which makes him a diamond in the rough. I know a dozen gay men who would jump at a chance with Lucas.

  He shakes his head solemnly. “I don’t want to sleep around with a bunch of different lovers. That’s not how I operate.” Luc shrugs one shoulder and returns his eyes back to me. They’re now swimming with determination as he steps in closer to me, the edge of his mouth curling up, just daring me to resist. To refute and push back.

  But the only pushing I want to do is pushing him against the wall on the opposite side of this pool shed, where we’re protected from view, and take his cock in my mouth again. I shiver at the memory.

  No, I need to stand my ground. I can’t let my hormones get the best of me.

  “Well, then you should stick with women or come out in the open and find someone who wants to date your pretty ass.”

  Another twitch of his lips and goddammit, he knows he has me in the palm of his hand. I don’t want to be his secret boy toy, even though the intensity of our brief night together scared the shit out of me because it was just that good.

  Hell yes, I want that man on top of me every night, but I just can’t chance it again. One too many with him could be dangerous to my willpower.

  Because Lucas is too damn tempting. It could be so easy to get caught up in his sweet vulnerability, generous skills in bed, and intelligence that turned me on like nobody’s business. And yes, I got all of that in just one night with him. There is something to be said about older men because they know their shit. Lucas was the whole package and I knew unequivocally that I couldn’t do that again with him without sacrificing myself.

  I’ve played that game already and lost spectacularly bad.

  I take a step back, angling myself to the side and crossing my arms over my chest, a defense mechanism to keep myself from falling into him.

  “I don’t want to date. It’s complicated. My life and work schedule are complicated. But I did enjoy our night together.” He licks his lips and I feel my knees buckle. “I really liked our night together and I just want to see you again.”

  I sneer through gritted teeth to keep myself from collapsing into his arms and saying ‘Yes’. “You want a secret fuck buddy and booty call at your disposal. A little pet on a leash. Well, sorry to tell you, but that’s not me.”

  I’m about to step forward and walk away when he places a gentling hand on my forearm, similar to what he did the night at the bar. The warmth of his touch has me stopping in my tracks and glancing over my shoulder into his pleading eyes.

  Fuck me. The magnetism of this man is too much for me to resist.

  “Just one more time. Tonight. Please, Kyler.”

  I’m about to make a clean getaway, rushing past the three people in front of me up the lecture hall stairway until his voice stops me in my tracks.

  “Mr. Scott. Would you have a moment to stay behind? I need to speak with you about your schedule.”

  I stiffen, my mouth pinching together in annoyance. Why the hell would he need to speak with me about my schedule?

  Reluctantly, I move out of the aisle so the last remaining students can file past me, one girl even giving me an apologetic look, seemingly worried that I’m already in trouble on the first day. Doubling my hands over the strap of my book bag, I clench them in fists as I wait until the place empties completely.

  Finally, as the door latches shut, Lucas nods toward me in a gesture that says, “Come down here.”

  It pisses me off, honestly, because I didn’t want this. I don’t want to be in his classroom as his student. It’s the opposite of making a clean break.

  Grudgingly I amble down the stairs until I’m six feet from where he shuffles his papers into his leather bag and closes the pouch with a snap. He lifts his eyes to meet mine, and I see a flicker of excitement.

  “Listen, Professor,” I enunciate, each syllable out of my mouth
full of defiance. “I have ten minutes to get to my next session, which is an individual…”

  “Special Fields class with Professor Gershwin. Yes, I know.”

  I’m confused. “How would you know that?”

  His brows lift skyward, a hint of apology in the curved corners of his mouth. “Two days ago, the Director of the Arts department held a meeting to redistribute the class schedules this semester in light of Ron Gershwin’s sudden medical leave of absence, which will be for the entire semester. I gained two of his special fields students.”

  If these classes weren’t a requirement to finish my degree, I would march out of this hall this instant and drop the class. Both classes, actually. My skin prickles with a heat that drives up my arms and legs, straight to my face where it burns under my skin and floods my cheeks. It’s a mix of frustration and yearning, a conflicting reaction to this turn of events.

  “Are you freaking serious? Can’t you trade with another professor? Jesus Christ, Lucas. This can’t possibly work.”

  His eyes flash bright green before they darken exponentially, his tone turning cynical and full of censure.

  “I don’t see a problem with it,” he says, picking up the bag from the lecture table and flipping it over his shoulder. Peering back over his shoulder, he lifts a brow that I see just as he turns the corner. “Unless, of course, you don’t think you’ll be able to control yourself around me.”

  And then he winks.

  3

  Lucas

  I have to work hard to regulate my breath as I walk back to my office at the opposite end of the building. It’s not that it’s a strenuous jaunt, or that I’m out of shape, it’s simply the way Kyler’s presence in my classroom had me in a state of stimulated agitation the past fifty-five minutes.

  My body’s reaction was a chemical combustion fueled by the weight of his hazel-eyed gaze directed squarely on me while I lectured. Or tried to lecture, that is.

  Of all the students I’ve had in my classroom over my teaching career, never have I been so flustered – and fucking aroused – by any of them before. I nearly cursed out loud at my cock’s untimely response to Kyler’s swaggering reply to my question posed to the class. It was exactly the same kind of flirty brashness he had when we first met back in July.

  I throw the door to my office open to find Coach Garrett Parker sitting at my desk, reading something on his phone.

  Great, just what I need. The only other man in my life who has pushed me to the limits of my sanity and made me ache for him in ways not appropriate in friendship.

  “I’ve got a student coming for his first session. What’s up, G?” My brisk, unwelcoming tone is unnecessarily rude and when I see the dejected look on his face, I feel like the worst friend in history.

  “Well, good morning to you, too, Professor Asshole,” he says at the snub, handing me the coffee in his hand. “I simply wanted to wish you a good first day and give you some coffee I thought you could use. And by that greeting, you obviously could use something much stronger than coffee. Bad morning already?”

  My long-time friend, and men’s basketball coach, hands me the cup and arches a brow. “Thanks. That was very considerate and I’m sorry,” I apologize, accepting the gift he’s bestowed. “And I do really appreciate it.”

  I take a sip and sigh as the heat of the liquid calms my already frayed nerves. Garrett stands, moving toward the doorway, his tall, six-foot-six frame filling the space as he turns back to me. “I hope your day goes better. Just give me a holler if you’re free for lunch later this week. My schedule doesn’t get too crazy until October.”

  As the associate men’s basketball coach, Garrett is an integral part of the school’s ball program, who just accepted this role after retiring early from the NBA. He and I played college ball together in Indiana and then our careers took different paths. He turned pro and I finished grad school and my Ph.D. program to begin teaching.

  It was a necessity for Garrett to leave the world of the NBA after his world crashed down around him a year ago. It was then that I convinced him to move down to Arizona and accept the open coaching role for the university.

  We’ve been through a lot together – him more so than me – but I’d never turn my back on his friendship, even when I’ve struggled to keep my unrequited adoration for him bottled up and hidden. There have been times over the past ten years I’ve wanted so badly to tell him I loved him. And not just his friendship. But he’s straight and thinks I’m straight, so it’s been a moot point.

  It was in college when my confusing, but ever-present, thoughts and sexual desires for Garrett grew too strong for me to ignore the fact that I might be gay or bisexual. Although I wanted to desperately, I never tried to find out if Garrett was like me, and instead, found ways to hide my self-discovery.

  Over time, however, I got a handle on those feelings to avoid being outed unnecessarily, but my bi-curiosity only grew bigger, demanding that I learn more about this side of me.

  At the time, I considered myself bisexual, but my preference strongly leans toward the male gender. I’ve dated women – because that was what was expected – and with the added pressure of my grandmother to find a woman and settle down, I gave it a good try. I was even engaged to a woman for a short time due to an ultimatum my grandmother gave me, requiring that I get married in order to be considered worthy of her fortune.

  The engagement lasted all of six months. Her name was Daniella and she was a French flight attendant who I met on a trans-Atlantic flight to Paris several years back. She was beautiful, elegant, sophisticated, and loved to indulge me in my museum visits every time we were together in Paris. We dated for over two years and she was perfect for me because we were together only infrequently.

  My grandmother adored Daniella, who was cultured and chic. She was thrilled I found someone to marry. While I’ll admit, my heart wasn’t into it one hundred percent, I did care for Daniella deeply, and I popped the question with an elaborate proposal on bended knee outside the Louvre.

  Unfortunately, I quickly learned that once chemistry burns out and you’re left to find the foundation has crumbled, a long-distance relationship will fall just as easily as a house of cards. Our break-up wasn’t overly difficult for either of us, but it sure did burst my grandmother’s bubble, who was very displeased with my decision not to work it out.

  Sadly, I knew my heart wasn’t in it. I also knew my sexuality would become an issue long-term and that wasn’t fair to Daniella, who I eventually told out of respect for her. We’re still good friends and will occasionally have dinner together when we’re in town at the same time.

  But honestly, I was relieved to walk away knowing I wouldn’t have to commit to a lifetime in a loveless marriage. The tragedy, however, is that unless I come out, I may never have the love I truly want.

  And here we are, back at square one. Garrett has moved on his from his past trauma and has fallen for a bright and beautiful woman – his son, Caleb’s, nanny – with his attention now cast on how they will make it work between them. This leaves me trying to tame and tamp down these irritatingly lingering feelings I’ve had for him for years.

  Garrett turns back around to me, snapping his fingers as if he just now realized something.

  “Shit, that’s right. I knew there was another reason I stopped by.” He throws his head back and laughs and I know exactly what that means.

  “I knew there was a catch. You don’t just bring me coffee out of the kindness of your heart.”

  He scoffs, bringing a hand to cover his heart as if hurt. “Ouch, dude. That wounds me, brother. But, you’re right. I’d really like to take Brooklyn out on a grown-up date this weekend,” he uses air quotes with a shrug of his shoulder, and then gives me an apologetic smile. “And I was hoping you could watch Caleb for a few hours Saturday night.”

  I roll my eyes, slipping my glasses down my nose to check the calendar on my phone. “I knew you’d rope me in somehow and the coffee was simply a persuas
ion tactic to butter me up. Scheming asshole.”

  Garrett chuckles and I shake my head. “But you’re in luck, bro. It just so happens that I have no social life this weekend or ever, which means you have a built-in babysitter. I’m happy to take care of my godson while you go out and put the moves on Brooklyn.”

  With another chuckle and a waggle of his brows, he turns to leave, waving a hand in the air and calling out, “Be there at seven, sucker!”

  I can’t help but laugh at his exiting comment. Even if he did bribe me with coffee just to get me to agree, I’d have dropped everything to hang with Caleb. We have a special bond when it comes to playing Legos and making rockets that fly to the moon.

  With a smile on my face, I sit down at my desk and check the time. Five more minutes until Kyler is scheduled to arrive and I need to use this time to consider how I want to play things out between us.

  Now that he’s a student of mine, nothing more can happen between us this semester, regardless of my attraction to him. Not only has he made it abundantly clear in our previous interaction that he was a one-and-done kind of guy, but I also follow the rules and take my obligations as an educator at this university very seriously. I would never jeopardize my role for a hookup with a student.

  With that commitment in mind, I resolve to keep my hands off, my head screwed on tight and my dick firmly in my pants when it comes to Kyler.

  4