Steamy Night With My Professor

You Need My Help?

AURELIE

I'd been working at The Grind for two years. It was the one place I came to when I wanted to be invisible but right now, with my hands shaking and my brain still stuck on those green eyes, I couldn't remember how to steam milk.

"Aurelie!" Mario's voice cut through the cafe noise. "What is this? This is not foam. This is... I don't know what this is. This is sadness in a cup."

I looked down at the latte I'd been making. The milk had curdled. "Sorry. I'll remake it."

"You'll remake it? You'll remake it?" Mario threw his hands up. "You've been here two years. Two years and today you move like a zombie."

He was right. I needed to forget about Max... Oh my God... Would I have to start calling him professor max now?

Just then, the bell above rang.

Mario's head snapped toward the entrance. His whole demeanor shifted. Shoulders back with a big smile plastered on his face.

What a faker!

"Welcome to the Grind! What can I get for you today?"

I didn't look up. I already knew who it was from the voice alone. The voice I was forced to listen to for good two hours yesterday.

"Just black coffee," said the voice. "And maybe a private word with your barista."

Mario's smile flickered. "Aurelie is working right now, sir, but I can..."

"I'll wait."

Shit.

I heard him shift closer to the counter directly in front of my station.

Mario leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. "You know him?"

"No."

"Then why is he staring at you like you owe him money?"

"I don’t know."

"You're a terrible liar, Aurelie." Mario straightened up. "Finish the Zombie latte. Then take your break and if you get me fired because of whatever drama you've brought into the cafe, you're done here."

He stomped toward the back and swung the door shut.

I dumped the ruined latte and started a new one. My hands still shaking.

"You're going to burn yourself," he said.

"I've been doing this for two years."

"Doesn't mean you can't burn yourself."

I slammed the milk pitcher down and looked up. Max Hamilton... Professor Max Hamilton sat on the other side of the counter. Blazer off. Sleeves rolled.

The small scar above his eyebrow caught the light. I had touched every inch of this man and somehow missed that scar.

"We need to talk," he said.

"We really don't."

"The lecture hall..."

I shook my head. "It doesn't change anything."

I handed the latte to a customer, grabbed a rag, and started wiping the counter. If I kept my hands busy, maybe he wouldn't see them shaking.

"I loved our night together," he said, lowering his voice.

I froze.

"The way you laughed. The way you kissed me and the way you fell asleep on my chest and mumbled..."

Blood rushed to my cheeks. "You're not supposed to say things like that... You... "

"I don't want to forget," his jaw tightened. "I also don't want to lose my job."

I rolled my eyes. "Then pretend the bar never happened. Easy."

"Is this easy for you? You sleep with random men often?

My jaw tightened at his words. "Don’t insult me."

"Look at me," he whispered. " Aurelie. Look at me."

I sighed, looking into his eyes that were softer now than in the lecture hall.

"This isn't right," he said. "You're my student. If anyone finds out..."

"Then they don't find out."

"It's not that simple."

"Then make it simple." I tossed the rag into the sink. Gosh, I couldn't figure out if he wanted to be with me or not. It's like he couldn't even make up his mind. "Let's move on. Okay?"

His phone buzzed. He looked at it once and ignored it. "I need something from you."

I glared at him but said nothing.

"I am not even sure I should be..." He met my eyes. "I pulled your file. You're really failing. If you don't bring your grade up by midterms, you lose your scholarship."

My eyes narrowed. "You looked at my file?"

"I had to. You're in my class."

"That's not why you looked."

He didn't deny it. My heart pounded. My brain raced. An idea took shape. A terrible, stupid, probably-illegal idea.

"Tutor me," I said.

"What?"

"You said it yourself. I'm failing. You're the professor. It makes sense."

"It makes no sense. Private tutoring is a gray area. If anyone found out..."

I ran my tongue over my bottom lips and I watched as his eyes traced the motion.

"They won't," I said.

Before he could respond, his phone buzzed again. He looked at it. His expression shifted, something dark passing over his face.

"I have to take this," he said.

He walked to the corner. I couldn't hear the words, but I saw his shoulders tense. The way his fingers gripped the phone like he wanted to throw it.

When he came back, he looked colder. He started tapping the counter rhythmically. I wanted to ask him if he was okay but I decided otherwise.

"You need my help, don't you?" He asked, leaning across the counter. "My father's gala is Saturday. That is four days from now. If I show up alone, my brother Ethan wins. Everything I've worked for, gone."

"And?"

His voice dropped. "And if you don't help me, I'll have to drop you from my class. Conflict of interest. You'll fail by default. Your scholarship will be gone by Monday."

The air left my lungs. "You wouldn't."

"I don't want to. But I can't have you in my classroom every day knowing what happened between us. It's not fair to either of us."

"So you're threatening me?"

He raked his hand through his hair. "Not really."

I crossed my arms. "You want me to be your fake partner."

"For Saturday night. And maybe a few other events. Three months maximum." His hand covered mine on the counter. I sucked in a breath . "No feelings. Just a performance."

The bell rang again and I looked up.

A woman stood in the doorway. Tall. Platinum blonde hair. Red lips. She was wearing a cream blazer and her eyes scanned the café, then landed on Max... Then me.

She walked straight to the counter.

"Max?" She pushed his shoulders lightly. "Who's this?"

Max's jaw tightened. "Vanessa...Please, not here"

"Answer me."

"No one."

My brows narrowed.

The woman smiled. It didn't reach her eyes. "Funny. Because I have a photo of you two leaving a bar together three nights ago.”