Obsessed with my lecturer

BELLA

I sat at one corner of the canteen while I patiently waited for Shantel and Jasmine to show up as promised. We had agreed to meet there and discuss our school final year project. But here I am, sitting my ass down and hoping to see anyone—but no one is coming.

They were taking longer than expected, and to make matters worse, they weren’t even picking up their phone calls.

I glared around the canteen, and then my eyes caught up with a young gentleman—the prince charming himself. He was drop-dead handsome, and better yet, the seat beside him was free. So I thought, maybe I would just say hello.

I made a beeline for the vacant seat, and since it looked like whoever he was waiting for was going to show up any moment now, I decided I should just spend a little time with him while we both waited for the people we were expecting.

“Hey,” I said, giving him a smug smile. “Do you mind if I join you?”

He glared at the entrance door, then nodded his head in approval.

“Sure.”

“Thanks,” I said, ignoring the look of surprise on his face.

I took a split second to look at the man sitting right before me. I practically fell into a pair of stomach-hazel eyes.

Sweet God, he had been worth stealing for.

With me sitting right before him, I gave him my most charming smile.

“I’m Bella.”

“Brian.” Amusement twisted his lips as I stretched my hand forward to him.

“I see you’re waiting for someone.”

“Yeah, a friend,” he replied frantically, more like in haste.

“That makes us even,” I said.

He smiled like he was finding everything—and possibly every word I said—funny.

He wouldn’t stop staring at the door side like whoever it was he was expecting was special to him.

“Maybe you should give her a call,” I suggested.

It was like his mind returned to his environment.

Slowly, he realized how long he’d been drumming his finger on that wine glass. Everything happening around him seemed off the board—like his mind and attention were fixed solely on his expected guest.

“It definitely won’t be possible. It’s raining already,” he said, then sipped on his drink.

“Yes, I had so much expectation for her to show up,” he added.

I felt the sadness and disappointment in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly.

“It’s nothing.”

He forced himself to smile.

Hell, I’d be lucky if I could think of anything other than Brian sitting across from me.

Honestly, I couldn’t remember ever having such an intense initial reaction to someone before.

What’s with you?

It’s just a guy I met a couple of minutes ago.

“Well… mind if I get to know you more?” I asked. “Like, what you do and stuff like that.”

I had nothing better to say, so raising a conversation like this would do.

He shrugged his shoulders, giving me the go-ahead.

“So… what do you do?”

He wrapped his fingers around the wine glass and sighed softly as he began to speak.

“I’m a graduate,” he said. “And I’m a lecturer too.”

My eyes lit up slightly. “What school do you currently teach at?”

“Uhm… Let’s just say I’ve got none for now. I recently graduated with my PhD.”

Wow. I couldn’t believe my ears.

He didn’t even look like a graduate. More like someone in his early thirties. Honestly, he looked like he had just walked out of college.

“So, you’re like… what? Thirty-one?”

He chuckled, the sound low and knowing.

“You don’t ask a man his age on the first day you meet him.”

I smiled. That wasn’t my intention, though. I just wanted to clear my thoughts, to keep the awkward silence from swallowing me whole.

“What about you?” he asked, shifting slightly. “What do you do for a living?”

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Well… I’m a student.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes studying me.

“High school or college?”

What do you think I said? I didn’t want to be too specific.

“College,” he guessed.

I shrugged, offering nothing more.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze lingering.

“You look way too mature to still be in college.”

“Seriously?” I laughed, and he tagged along, chuckling softly.

“Just kidding,” he said.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Those beautiful eyes—deep, dark, and curious—held me in a gaze I didn’t even realize I’d fallen into.

His smile? One in a million. One of those smiles that didn’t just curve lips but warmed something quiet inside me.

There were a thousand reasons why I couldn’t stop looking at him. His scent was another—subtle, masculine, and dangerously distracting.

It lingered in the air, teasing my senses, and making me want more than just a casual sniff.

And truthfully, I had no idea what my next move was supposed to be.

I was so lost in him that I didn’t even care how long I’d been staring. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice.

But just as quickly, his gaze shifted—his eyes landing on the entrance door. That sudden change pulled me back to reality.

For a second, I felt… off. Like my time with him wasn’t going as well as I’d hoped. Like something was slipping through the cracks.

I wanted to get his attention. I wanted to buy his time—to keep him there, with me—but it felt like I wasn’t giving it my best shot.

Whoever it was he seemed to be waiting for… they felt like more than just a friend. Maybe even a lover.

The thought stung a little.

I racked my brain for something to say, anything that might draw his attention back to me. It might be a stretch, but trying was better than sitting in silence.

“So… Do you have any school in mind to teach at?” I asked, my voice casual, but my heart thudded.

His gaze slowly drifted from the door and back to me.

“Not really,” he replied. “I’ve applied to several—high schools, colleges, even universities. Hopefully, whoever calls first… I’ll go for it.”

I already knew that in my head, but hearing it again felt like a small victory—like I was pulling him back into the conversation, back into me.

“So, what course do you specialize in?” I asked, tilting my head slightly.

“Petroleum Engineering.”

“Wow,” I breathed. “That’s my favorite subject.”

“Really?” he chuckled, his tone amused. “Well, every student loves engineering. It’s a good course.”

He smiled at me—that same easy, confident smile that had been playing on my mind since the moment we met.

And just like that, I lost track of the conversation.

What if I had a taste of those lips?

The thought slipped in, bold and uninvited. But once it entered, it refused to leave.

It would’ve felt like a dream come true, I thought.

Those lips looked like they were made for kissing—soft, sure, and slightly sinful. And if I was being honest with myself… I had wanted them for years now.

Damn, he was all over my head now, and I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off him—not even for a second.

I think he noticed.

He dropped his gaze almost instantly, now staring at the untouched wine before him.

“Probably a waste of time coming here,” he muttered under his breath. “Well, however… Thanks for keeping me company. I appreciate your presence.”

Well, I hadn’t even started.

If I had had every chance to make the day up to him—to be more than just a substitute for whoever he was waiting for—I’d have done more than just sit here, staring and asking questions.

“It’s nothing,” I said softly, shifting the wine glass to the side.

Then, casually, I added, “A friend of mine will be celebrating her mother’s birthday tonight.” I looked up at him again. “And I happen to know a few people who could help you land a job sooner.”

He was staring at me like his brain was busily working through my invitation.

I knew we had just met, but he didn’t feel like a stranger. And from the look he gave me, I wasn’t one to him either.

“That would be great,” he finally said.

I caught the shift in his tone, the slight lightness in his voice. I could smell his approval. Never thought it would be this simple.

“So I’ll talk to them,” I added, leaning forward a bit. “Probably before tonight. I’ll give you feedback. What do you think?”

He nodded, his expression soft.

“I’ll be waiting.”

A small silence lingered—not awkward, just charged. I smiled.

“So… should I give you my Snapchat or my number?” I asked, eyes locked with him. “Or do I get yours instead?”

I learned we shouldn’t ask a guy for his number on the first day,” I teased, “and most guys hate doing the calling first.”

He tilted his head slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Well… I’m not most guys,” he said, reaching into his bag.

He pulled out a card—sleek, clean, probably carrying more weight than it looked. He held it out to me.

I reached for it, sneaking the contact like it was something secret. As my fingers touched it, a cold feeling rushed through my veins—like ice meeting flame.

He paused.

His gaze held surprise, and maybe something else. I wondered if he felt it too—that strange shift, the moment that didn’t feel like just an exchange of contact information.

He slowly let go, leaving the card in my hand. My fingers curled around it, holding it tight like it meant more than it should.

I couldn’t explain what I felt. I wouldn’t even try.

And no, I wouldn’t blame myself for making things too obvious. It wasn’t me.

It was him—the gentleman sitting right in front of me.

He was stirring things inside me. Unleashing something I had long buried. Feelings I had promised myself I wouldn’t touch again.

And to make matters worse, he had taken over my mind.