His Forbidden Obsession

The Anatomy of Our bodies

(Clara)

The lecture hall emptied faster than I expected as voices faded into distant echoes as I rushed out, desperate for fresh air. My lungs burned like I hadn’t been breathing properly all morning………because I hadn’t.

Professor Callum Hart….not the man that had taken my virginity in the backseat of his car.

I needed to get that straight into my head before my mouth betrays me in front of everyone.

“Hey, you up for the anatomy lab?”

I flinched as I turned. Roxie stood behind me like she had just popped out of thin air, her arms were crossed and she looked perfectly put together as always.

“Yeah… I just need a second,” I muttered, unzipping my bag and slipping my iPad inside.

“Come on,” she said, already turning. “We’re not late on the first day.”

I followed her, my feet moving automatically even though my mind was miles away.

Every step toward the lab felt heavier like my body knew exactly who was waiting for me inside.

The smell of formaldehyde hit me before I even walked in. It was sharp, chemical and sterile.

Then I saw him.

When he turned, his gaze swept across the room. It was calm and assessing. It paused on me for the briefest second before moving on like I was just another student.

“Stone. Cliff. Seats,” he said. “Gloves and coats on. We begin in five.”

That was it, no reaction or recognition. Something in my heart twisted…..maybe he chose to forgot or I was just another girl he had slept with.

I quickly pulled on my lab coat, trying to ignore the way my hands trembled.

“Focus,” I said to myself. “This is why you’re here.”

“Just to be clear,” he continued, his voice heard across the room, “this session is restricted to the top ten students selected for the mentorship program. If you are not on that list, you can leave.”

No one moved.

His eyes moved across the room again before settling on me.

“Did you hear what I said?” He asked with a frown.

My spine stiffened. “Yes, sir.”

“And?” He continued.

“I ranked seventh. I’m supposed to be here sir.” I replied.

He held my gaze for a second longer than necessary before nodding once. “Okay then.”

I turned away quickly, my heart racing.

What was that?

I slipped on my gloves, forcing myself to steady my breathing.

“Need a hand?” I heard someone say from behind me.

I looked up to see a guy beside me. He was tall with a sharp jaw. He looked confident, like he knew what he was doing and completely at ease. His posture was even relaxed, like none of this intimidated him.

“I’m good,” I said, even though my grip on the scalpel said otherwise.

He glanced at my hand and smiled slightly. “You’re holding it too tight. Just relax your wrist.”

Before I could protest, his hand covered mine, adjusting my grip.

“Just like this, with controlled pressure,” he said as he helped me adjust my grip.

I exhaled slowly, trying to focus on what he was saying instead of how close he was.

“Stone.”

My entire body went rigid as I heard him call my name.

Professor Hart.

The guy beside me stepped back immediately, his hand slipping away from mine.

“Sorry, sir,” he said. “I was just helping.”

“Observe first,” Professor Hart replied evenly. “Then assist.”

His attention then shifted to me.

“Again.” He ordered.

I adjusted my grip, trying to ignore how close he was now.

His fingers brushed mine….it was brief and controlled but it was enough to send heat racing up my arm.

“Steady,” he said.

I nodded, forcing myself to focus.

A few minutes later, the guy leaned closer again, his voice was low enough that only I could hear.

“By the way,” he said, glancing at me with a small grin, “I’m Ethan.”

I hesitated for a second before replying, “Clara Stone.”

“I figured the Stone part,” he said, eyes flicking briefly toward the front of the room. “He seems to like saying your name.”

My breath hitched in my throat. I didn’t know how to respond because he wasn’t wrong.

I forced my attention back to the cadaver in front of me, steadying my hands as I followed the instructions. Muscle layers. Precision. Control. That was what mattered…..not him and not the way my body reacted every time he came within a few feet of me.

“Careful,” Ethan murmured beside me. “You’re drifting again.”

“I’m fine,” I said, a little too quickly.

He didn’t push, just watched me for a second longer before returning to his own work.

Across the room, Professor Hart moved between tables, correcting posture, adjusting grips, his voice calm and measured. He didn’t linger anywhere for too long.

He stopped at the table beside mine, explaining something to another student, his tone patient but firm. I kept my head down, pretending to be completely absorbed in my work.

If I didn’t look at him, maybe he wouldn’t….

“Stone.”

Too late.

I straightened immediately. “Yes, sir?”

He stepped closer, his presence wrapping around me before I could prepare for it.

“Identify the structure you’re working on.” He said in a serious tone.

My mind blanked completely.

I stared at the cadaver, the words just… gone.

“Uh… the superficial fascia,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t give me away.

“Incorrect.” He replied rather quickly.

Heat flooded my face in embarrassment.

“It’s the underlying muscle layer,” he continued, his tone still even, but sharper now. “You would know that if you were paying attention.”

“I am,” I said quietly.

“Then demonstrate it.”

My grip tightened on the scalpel as I adjusted, forcing myself to ignore how close he was. I could feel him watching me, assessing every movement.

I made the incision carefully this time, slower, more deliberate.

“Better,” he said.

He moved on without another glance like that was all I was worth. A correction or just a passing comment.

I exhaled slowly, only then realizing I had been holding my breath.

“Tough crowd,” Ethan muttered under his breath.

I huffed out a quiet laugh despite myself. “You have no idea.”

“Oh, I think I do,” he said lightly. “I heard he’s intense with everyone. Don’t take it personally.”

If only it felt that simple.

The rest of the session passed in a blur of instructions and forced concentration. I answered when called, corrected my mistakes, kept my head down but no matter how hard I tried, I was aware of him.

When the class finally ended, relief washed over me.

Students began packing up, voices rising again as the tension eased.

Ethan nudged my arm lightly. “You survived.”

“Barely,” I muttered, pulling off my gloves.

He smiled. “You’re not as bad as you think, you know.”

I glanced at him. “That’s reassuring.”

“I mean it,” he said. “It’s just day nerves. You’ll settle in.”

“Hopefully.” I replied.

He hesitated for a second. “There’s a group grabbing coffee after this. You should come.”

Before I could answer…..

“You’re taking your time, Miss Stone.” I heard him say.

My spine stiffened.

I didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

Ethan glanced between us, then stepped back slightly. “I’ll catch you later,” he said quietly before slipping away.

I turned slowly to find Professor Hart just a few feet away, hands in his pockets with an unreadable expression.

“I was just leaving,” I said.

“Then you should do so,” he replied.

Something in his tone made me pause.

I met his gaze. “Is there something else, sir?”

A brief silence stretched between us then he stepped closer but not too close.

“You need to learn control,” he said, voice low but steady. “This environment requires discipline.”

My jaw tightened. “I am in control.”

His eyes held mine for a second longer than necessary.

“Then prove it,” he said.

The words landed heavier than they should have.They were completely professional.

So why did it feel like something else?

He stepped back again, the distance returning just as quickly as it had disappeared.

“I expect better from you in the next session,” he added.

“Yes, sir,” I replied.

He gave a single nod and turned away.

And just like that, it was over.

I stood there for a moment, my pulse still racing, my thoughts tangled.

Because no matter how composed he acted…

No matter how much he pretended nothing had happened…

Something had.

And I was starting to realize that ignoring it wasn’t going to make it go away.