Tease Me, Sir [Completed]

Chapter 3: Fractured Glances

The lecture hall buzzed with quiet murmurs as students filed in, settling into their usual seats. The early morning air was thick with the scent of coffee and freshly printed paper, the rustling of notebooks and the occasional scrape of chair legs filling the silence before class began. Maxine sat near the window, her fingers idly tapping against the edge of her desk, her eyes glued to the notebook in front of her.

She told herself she wouldn't look at him.

She had spent the entire night trying to convince herself that yesterday's encounter meant nothing. That the way her pulse had quickened, the way her skin had burned at his touch, was just a lingering ghost of an old wound, not a wound reopening. But now, sitting here, she was painfully aware of the footsteps approaching the front of the room.

Noah.

She kept her eyes trained on the notes in front of her, pretending to review last week's lecture. But the moment his voice filled the room—calm, steady, with that same deep tone that once whispered secrets against her skin—she knew she was doomed.

"Good morning, everyone." His voice cut through the low chatter, commanding instant attention. A few latecomers rushed in, finding their seats quickly as Noah set down his papers on the desk. "We'll be continuing our discussion from last week. I expect all of you to have reviewed the material."

Maxine bit her lower lip. She could feel the pull, the magnetic force urging her to look up. And then, as if compelled by some unseen force, she did.

Her eyes met his.

It was brief—so quick she could have convinced herself it was nothing—but in that fleeting second, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them. His gaze was unreadable, cold yet searching, as if trying to gauge something in her. Then, just as swiftly, he looked away, turning his attention to the whiteboard.

She exhaled shakily.

The lecture proceeded as usual. Noah spoke with the same composed authority he always carried, his tone smooth, deliberate. But Maxine noticed it—the slight hesitation before he turned toward her side of the room, the way his fingers tapped against his desk absentmindedly, the way he lingered just a second longer when his gaze swept over her row.

Some of their glances were accidental. Others were not.

She caught him once, mid-sentence, as he scanned the room. His gaze landed on her, just for a second too long, and she swore she saw something flicker in his eyes—something raw, something unspoken. But just as quickly, it was gone, masked beneath his usual indifference.

Damn him.

Maxine clenched her jaw, shifting in her seat. She shouldn't be affected. She shouldn't let him get to her. But every stolen glance, every accidental meeting of their eyes, sent her heart spiraling into chaos.

She hated it. She hated him.

And yet, when he turned away, she couldn't stop herself from stealing a glance of her own.

The lecture carried on, but Maxine barely heard a word of it. She sat stiffly in her seat, fingers gripping her pen so tightly that the ink threatened to smudge across her notebook. Every time she willed herself to focus, her thoughts drifted—back to him, to the weight of his stare, to the silent tension that crackled between them like an exposed wire.

Damn him.

Damn herself.

"Max?"

She startled slightly at the whisper, her head snapping to the side. Ashley sat beside her, brow furrowed in concern. She had leaned in closer, her voice low enough so they wouldn't draw attention, but her sharp eyes missed nothing.

"You okay?"

Maxine forced a quick nod, too quick. "Yeah. Just tired."

Ashley didn't buy it. She never did. They had been friends long enough for her to read between the lines, to catch the smallest cracks in Maxine's carefully constructed armor.

"You've been spacing out all morning," Ashley pressed, voice soft but insistent. "And don't try to tell me it's just lack of sleep. I know you."

Maxine swallowed hard, shifting her gaze back to the front of the room where Noah continued his lecture. He looked the same as always—collected, professional, completely in control. No one else in the room would have suspected that the air between them had been thick with something unspeakable just minutes ago.

But Ashley noticed *her.* And that was dangerous.

"I'm fine," Maxine murmured, feigning disinterest as she doodled in the margins of her notes.

Ashley wasn't convinced.

"Is it... something to do with *him*?" Her voice dropped even lower, careful, but weighted with meaning.

Maxine's grip on her pen tightened.

Of course, Ashley had noticed. Maybe she hadn't pieced everything together—she didn't know the full truth, didn't know what Noah had been to her *before.* But she knew there was something. She had picked up on the tension, the way Maxine's posture went rigid whenever he was near, the way she avoided looking at him when possible—and the way she sometimes failed to.

Maxine let out a slow breath, forcing her expression into something neutral. "It's nothing."

Ashley gave her a look. "Max—"

"I said it's nothing." The words came out sharper than intended, cutting the conversation off before it could go any deeper.

Ashley hesitated, studying her carefully, then leaned back in her chair with a sigh. "Okay," she relented, though it was clear she didn't believe her. "But if you ever 'do' want to talk, you know I'm here, right?"

A pang of guilt twisted in Maxine's stomach. Ashley had always been there for her—through thick and thin, through stress and heartbreak. And yet, there were things Maxine could never tell her. Not about Noah. Not about the past.

Because some things were too complicated. Too painful. Too 'dangerous' to say out loud.

So instead of answering, Maxine simply forced a small smile and nodded.

Ashley didn't press any further. But as the class continued, Maxine could still feel her best friend's worried glances, hovering just at the edge of her vision.

And across the room, she could feel 'his' too.

The air inside the coffee shop was warm, filled with the rich scent of freshly brewed espresso and the faint chatter of students winding down after class. The space buzzed with life, but Maxine felt detached from it, her thoughts trapped elsewhere—with him.

She should have said no when Ashley insisted they come out. She wasn't in the mood for company, much less for meaningless chatter. But she hadn't wanted to raise suspicion either, so here she was, sitting in a circle of laughter and conversation she barely heard.

Ashley and a few of their classmates had crowded into one of the booths, their drinks scattered across the wooden table, the remains of pastries sitting half-eaten on crumpled napkins. The conversation was effortless—jokes thrown around, stories told with exaggerated gestures. Maxine, however, stayed quiet, stirring her iced coffee with the straw, her fingers gripping the cup a little too tightly.

"Max, are you even listening?" Ashley nudged her with an elbow, pulling her back to reality.

She blinked. "Huh?"

Ashley rolled her eyes. "God, you've been out of it all day."

"Sorry," Maxine muttered, taking a sip of her drink just to have something to do.

"She's probably thinking about a guy," one of the girls, Bea, teased, grinning. "Who is it, Max? Spill."

Maxine shook her head, forcing a laugh. "No one."

"Are you sure?" another friend, Lianne, smirked. "Because you looked *way* too tense in class today. And we all know why."

Maxine's stomach twisted, but she kept her expression neutral. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Ashley exchanged a glance with Lianne, then leaned in dramatically. "We're talking about him." she whispered in her ears.

Maxine didn't have to ask who.

"Sir Noah," Bea sighed dreamily, propping her chin in her hands. "God, how is it even legal to be that good-looking? Like, seriously? It's distracting."

Lianne laughed. "Right? The way he just 'stares' when he talks? I swear, I'd fail on purpose just to have him tutor me one-on-one."

Ashley snorted. "You would."

"Come on, don't tell me you guys haven't thought about it," Bea continued, eyes twinkling mischievously. "He's got that whole mysterious, cold-hearted, rich-guy vibe going on. But instead of running some massive company like he probably should be, he's just... *teaching* at our university? There has to be a story there."

Maxine clenched her fingers around her cup, heart hammering.

There is.

"Maybe he's a secret mafia heir or something," Lianne joked.

"Or maybe he had a tragic love story," Bea said dramatically, sighing. "Like, I don't know, maybe he lost the love of his life and now he's just wandering through life, cold and unattached—"

Maxine flinched. If only they knew.

Ashley, perceptive as ever, shot her a quick glance before steering the conversation away. "Or maybe he just hates corporate life and prefers bullying university students instead."

That earned a round of laughter, but Maxine barely heard it over the roaring in her ears. She forced a tight smile, looking down at her coffee as if it held all the answers she desperately needed.

She had spent years trying to erase Noah from her life. But it seemed that no matter where she went, no matter how much she tried to bury the past—his name would always find her.

The conversation carried on without her, but Maxine felt suffocated by it. Each word about *him*—every joke, every sigh of admiration—scraped against her like a raw wound that refused to heal.

She wanted to leave.

She wanted to forget.

But instead, she sat there, her fingers tightening around her iced coffee, her stomach a tangled mess of unease.

Ashley nudged her again, her voice quieter this time, just for her. "Are you okay?"

Maxine hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Just tired."

Ashley didn't buy it. Her eyes softened with concern. "You sure?"

No. She wasn't.

She wasn't okay at all.

But she couldn't say that. She couldn't tell Ashley that the man they were all fantasizing about was the same man who had shattered her. That she knew the real Noah—the one behind the cold stares and sharp words. The one who once held her in his arms like she was his entire world.

And the one who had left her to drown in the wreckage of what they once were.

"I'm fine," she lied, forcing a small smile. "Just spacing out."

Ashley gave her a long look before finally nodding. "Alright. But if you ever need to talk..."

Maxine exhaled. "I know. Thanks."

She appreciated Ashley's concern, but there were things she could never tell her. Things she didn't even know how to put into words.

Lianne suddenly gasped, leaning forward excitedly. "Oh my God, guys, speak of the devil—look who just walked in."

Maxine stiffened.

She already knew.

Before she even turned her head, she felt his presence—the weight of it, the pull of it.

Noah.

He had just stepped inside, his posture relaxed yet commanding. His dark eyes scanned the café absently, as if he wasn't really seeing anyone. Dressed in his usual crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the strong lines of his forearms, he was effortlessly composed.

He hadn't seen them yet.

But she couldn't not look at him.

Her eyes betrayed her, flickering toward him for just a second—just long enough for their gazes to collide.

A sharp jolt ran through her, like static electricity snapping against her skin.

Noah's expression didn't change, but she saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes, the brief pause in his step before he continued toward the counter.

She quickly looked away, her breath catching in her throat.

Bea giggled. "Ugh, how is he so attractive? It's unfair."

Lianne smirked. "Maxine, you were so staring."

Maxine's heart stopped. "What? No, I wasn't."

"You totally were," Ashley teased.

Maxine shook her head, forcing a laugh that felt hollow. "I was not."

She felt Noah's presence like a storm in the background, looming and unavoidable. She willed herself to focus on anything but him, but the air felt thick, charged with something she didn't want to acknowledge.

And she hated that, even now—after everything—he still had this effect on her.

Ashley nudged her lightly. "You okay?"

Maxine blinked, pulling herself back. "Yeah," she said, too quickly.

Ashley didn't look convinced but let it slide.

The conversation drifted from their professors to upcoming exams, then, inevitably, back to Noah.

"I swear, Professor Castellano looks at people like he's deciding if they're worth his time," Lianne mused, grinning. "It's kind of hot, not gonna lie."

"He's cold," Bea agreed, "but in a deliciously rich, emotionally unavailable way."

Jerome scoffed, he was just passing by when he saw them gossiping "You girls and your thing for brooding men."

"Like you're any better," Lianne shot back. "Didn't you say you wanted to be 'mentored' by Miss Alcantara just because she's hot?"

"That's different," Jerome smirked. "She's single. Castellano? He looks like a guy with a history."

Maxine's fingers tightened around her cup.

A history.

If only they knew.

Before she could dwell on it, the café door swung open, and three figures stepped inside.

Ashley brightened immediately. "Hey, there they are!"

Maxine turned just as the newcomers approached—three guys, all tall, loud, and radiating easy confidence.

"Finally, we found you," one of them said, dropping into the seat beside Ashley.

"Didn't you say you'd text us when you got here?" another added, shaking his head.

Ashley rolled her eyes. "I did. You guys are just slow."

The last one, a guy with tousled hair and a mischievous smirk, leaned on the table, glancing between them. "So, what were you girls talking about? Gossip? Boys?" His gaze flickered to Maxine. "Oh, wait, lemme guess—Professor Castellano?"

Lianne laughed. "How'd you know?"

"Because half the campus is obsessed with him," he teased, nudging Maxine slightly. "What about you, quiet one? Do you have crush on him too?."

She didn't flinch. Didn't react.

Instead, she took a slow sip of her coffee, her expression unreadable. "No."

There was a brief pause before the boy whistled, grinning. "Damn. Cold."

"You're way too quiet. Don't tell me you're the type who just nods along?" he added.

Maxine met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "I listen."

Josh chuckled. "A woman of mystery, huh?" He pulled out a chair and sat down, his eyes studying her like she was some kind of puzzle. "So, do you listen when guys like me flirt with you, or do I have to try harder?"

Laughter erupted from the group, but Maxine remained still, her gaze cool and distant. "I don't listen to noise."

A chorus of "Ooooh!" followed, and Josh clutched his chest dramatically. "Damn, she's brutal."

Ashley grinned. "That's why we love her."

Josh's friends joined in on the teasing, throwing playful remarks back and forth.

The moment should have been harmless, just another typical scene of college camaraderie.

But what none of them noticed was the man sitting near the back of the coffee shop, a book open in his hand, though he hadn't turned a page in minutes.

Noah Castellano's grip on his cup was tight.

His eyes, sharp and unreadable, remained fixed on the table where Maxine sat, his gaze darkening with each passing second.

She was surrounded—laughing voices, easy touches, the kind of casual teasing that meant nothing but looked like everything. And yet, there she was, unmoved, untouchable, as if the chaos around her didn't even reach her.

But Josh's voice grated on him.

The way he leaned in.

The way he talked to her.

The way he tried.

Noah's jaw tightened. His fingers twitched against the paper of his book. It was ridiculous—childish, even. He knew that.

And yet, a quiet, simmering anger burned beneath his skin.

Because no one else in that café could see the flicker in Maxine's eyes, the brief, almost imperceptible shift when the conversation had turned to him.

No one else noticed that despite her silence, her mind was far from absent.

No one else knew how much she was still his.

Even if she didn't realize it yet.