Forbidden Lecture: My Professor's Secret Craving

Chapter Six

Aria stood outside Marcus’s apartment complex, the Toronto dusk casting long shadows on the cracked pavement littered with beer cans. It’s been two months since she was last here.

Eight years of their life was gone… just like that. She remembered the curve of his sleepy smile whenever she kissed him awake, his gentle surprise every time she prepared pancakes on Saturdays, even though he faked it just to make her happy, how they whispered their plans while running around, laughing. The betrayal still stung her so badly.

With her heart hammering in her chest, she pressed the buzzer with her thumb. That was new. They never installed one while she was here.

Marcus answered quickly, almost as if he’d been waiting. His frame filled the door. He was a little heavier than she could remember, his jaw was rough with an overgrown beard. He was sweaty from the workout gym tank that clung to his meaty chest.

“Babe. Finally,” Marcus said, his smug smirk curling. “Didn’t think you’d show up for another round.”

Typical Marcus. Always finding a way to get under her skin. But not this time, douche.

Without a word, she pushed past him into the foyer, then turned left to the door that led to the garage as he followed behind her. She still knew her way around. Her boxes were piled to one side, an uneven stack that spoke more of irritation than concern. She knelt beside them, sorting quickly for anything that wasn’t sticky with heartbreak or reminded her of him.

“So, Aria… how’s life on the other side?” Marcus hovered awkwardly by the wall, his arms folded, voice dripping in false bravado. “I heard you started your Masters and you won that scholarship thing. You always had your head in books, so I’m not surprised.” He laughed, a forced, brittle sound that made her want to slap the hell out of him.

But she wasn’t going to give him the attention he needed. She closed her fingers around her favorite mug, the one she’d bought with Lena on their first cafe shift, and brushed past him.

Marcus caught her wrist, and for a dizzy moment, she thought she might actually go through with that slap. But she didn’t. Instead, he looked him dead in the eyes and spoke with the most polite voice.

“I didn’t win it, Marcus. I earned it. And I didn’t cheat my way through it, either.”

He turned red. “Don’t be dramatic, baby. Besides, it’s not like you were perfect, you know, always out late working, never making time for us, nagging about rent…” he sputtered as she yanked her hands away.

Aria scanned the living room and spotted Sasha’s hoodie slung over a chair, her cheap sour perfume hanging in the air. Without thinking, she picked up the hoodie, found Marcus’s phone on the table and scrolled. Just as she suspected, there were nude selfies from the b***h, dirty sexts, and plans to meet. She snapped the pics on her phone.

“Are you serious right now?” Marcus stepped forward, trying… and failing to sound authoritative. “That’s private—”

“Funny. It wasn’t private between you, me, and the neighbor,” she shot back. She snapped another photo of a half-crushed box of condoms in one of the kitchen drawers, and lipstick on the rim of a mug.

“You need to delete those pictures, Aria,” he said angrily. “What do you think they’d even do for you?”

But she ignored him and continued gathering her things. Just as she finished, Hannah, another neighbor, poked her pink-haired head through the open door, a nosy glint in her pale green eyes.

“Everything OK?” she asked, her voice syrupy. “I thought I heard shouting.”

Aria kept her hands busy with her stuff, not trusting herself to speak. “Just fine, Hannah,” she said, and the neighbor’s face soured as she turned away.

-

With everything stuffed haphazardly into the backseat of her Uber, Aria finally breathed a sigh of relief and picked up her phone to text the girls.

Aria: “Survived. He tried to guilt me, but LOL, I got what I needed. Got some receipts too.” Lena replied with a string of applause and flaming heart emojis.

Jade: “Let’s toast to closure, babe!”

Mia: “That’s my bad b***h! So proud.”

- - -

The next week passed by in a blur. Classes picked in full force, syllabus handouts, registration deadline, and a reading list a mile long. Aria dove into the academic routine. Daytime slipped in lecture halls filled with the nervous scratch of pens and the scents of notebooks opening, her evenings spent at her workplace, Brew Haven.

At night, she burned candles, reading all through to make herself worthy of the scholarship. The pressure that came with it was real. Every orientation meeting hammered it home: participation, academic grades, and professional conduct.

Tyler started greeting her with “Heartbreaker’s Blend,” her usual order of a foamy swirl of caramel latte art that made her almost forget her nerves. They struck up an easy conversation, from music, their favorite high school novels, and their future. It was so easy with him, and Aria found herself tipping him and tripping for him.

Sometimes, she would see Jason around, at the front of the lecture hall, by the library steps in that sharp navy suit, his blue eyes dark and unreadable behind his glasses. He was always slightly out of reach, a forbidden thought pulsing her mind every time she saw him. Their deal was impossible to forget… and also increasingly hard to keep.

Friday morning rolled in and Aria was sitting in the theater room, the sunlight slanting through the tall windows as the lecture was going on. She felt almost normal as she furiously scrawled notes as Professor Vasquez outlined romanticism’s return in Victorian prose.

The hall was mostly quiet, except for the occasional question and answers that went back and forth for maximum participation with the students.

Suddenly, the door at the side of the room opened. Professor Sarah Kline, the department’s no-nonsense woman in sensible flats, stepped in, the purple staff she wore over her neck fluttering with the wind. She whispered something to Professor Vasquez, and he looked up, his eyes instantly locking on her.

“Miss Aria Jenkins?”

Every head in the room turned to her. Aria stiffened, her chest tightening as she gathered her books. Was it because she didn’t attend that mandatory meeting one time?. Busted for that nearly-late assignment? Her thoughts spiralled as she followed Kline into the hallway.

Once they were outside, Kline’s voice was neutral, her face was unreadable.

“The Dean would like to speak with you, Aria. He asked that you come to his office immediately.”

The words thundered in her head. Why would the Dean want to see her so early in the semester? Had someone discovered what happened between her and Jason at his office? Did Ethan smell s*x that day? Does the Dean know? A million fears ricocheted as she made her way down the quiet hallways, then up the stairs, moving past lecture rooms and faculty members' offices.

“Breathe, girl, you’ve done nothing wrong,” She whispered to herself as she clutched her notebook to her chest. But did I?

Arriving at the Dean’s door, she hesitated, trying to calm her nerves. The crisp brass plate on the door read: Dean R. Hargrove, Graduate Studies. She raised her fist and knocked, her pulse spiking painfully.

On the other side, a deep, measured voice boomed. “Come in.”