Harper’s POV
I spent the next two days trying not to think about Dr. Kane, but my mind kept circling back to that evening in his office no matter what I did. The way he had listened when I talked about my paper, the way his arm had brushed mine on the couch, the quiet way he said my name right before I left. It was stupid. He was my professor. Twelve years older than me. Completely off limits. But every time I sat in his lecture I found myself watching the way he moved, the way his voice dropped when he got passionate about a text, the small smile he gave when a student said something insightful. I told myself it was just admiration for a good teacher, but my body knew better. My skin still remembered that brief contact, and my stomach did this little flip whenever our eyes met across the
