Tease Me, Sir [Completed]

Chapter 10: Lines and Limits

Maxine had never been more aware of Noah Castellano's presence than she was right now.

Maybe it was the fact that everyone in the lecture hall was hanging onto his every word, their gazes fixed on him with varying degrees of admiration, intimidation, and in some cases, pure thirst.

Or maybe it was because she couldn't stop remembering the way his voice had sounded when he'd pulled her aside yesterday. Low. Tense. Possessive.

"You were smiling at him."

She clenched her jaw, forcing her attention back to his lecture.

"... which is why, in analyzing literary movements, we have to consider not just historical context but also the personal experiences of the authors themselves." Noah's voice was steady, authoritative, but there was something sharper beneath it today. Something controlled.

Maxine risked a glance at him, just as he turned to write on the board.

Big mistake.

His sleeves were rolled up again, exposing strong forearms. The ink of his pen glided effortlessly across the board, but all Maxine could focus on was the way his jaw tensed slightly, the way his fingers curled tighter than necessary around the marker.

Like he was pissed off.

Like he was still thinking about yesterday.

"Okay, seriously, what is his deal?" Lianne whispered beside her, eyes flicking between Maxine and Noah.

"What do you mean?" Maxine asked, too quickly.

Lianne narrowed her eyes. "He's been weirdly intense today. Like, more than usual. And don't think I didn't notice him looking in your direction earlier."

Maxine forced a scoff. "He's a professor. He looks at students."

Jerome, sitting in front of them, turned slightly and deadpanned, "Yeah, but he doesn't glare at students like he's personally offended by their existence."

Josh, on her other side, smirked. "Unless you're Maxine, apparently."

Maxine shot him a look. "You guys are imagining things."

But she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

And sure enough, when she glanced back up—

Noah's eyes were on her.

Only for a second. A flicker.

Then he was back to his usual cool, impassive self, continuing his lecture like nothing had happened.

But Maxine wasn't stupid.

She knew better.

And worse—so did he.

After Class

The moment Noah dismissed them, Maxine shot up from her seat, fully intending to bolt.

Unfortunately, she had vastly underestimated her friends.

"Hey, so, we're grabbing coffee—" Ashley started.

"Can't," Maxine blurted. "I—uh—have another class."

Bea frowned. "No, you don't."

Josh crossed his arms. "Since when do you willingly skip coffee?"

"I just remembered—I have a thing."

Jerome narrowed his eyes. "What thing?"

"The thing—"

"Miss Nievez."

The deep voice sent a jolt down her spine.

The group fell silent as Professor Castellano stood beside their table, gaze unreadable.

Maxine slowly turned, keeping her expression neutral. "Professor?"

"I need a word."

Josh muttered something under his breath.

Jerome sighed. "Here we go again."

Bea, Ashley, and Lianne were looking between the two of them like they were watching the buildup to a season finale.

Maxine forced a casual nod. "Of course."

Noah gestured toward the door. "After you."

As she walked ahead, her heart hammering, she could feel her friends staring after them.

And she knew exactly what they were thinking.

Why the hell does Professor Castellano keep asking Maxine to talk?

And more importantly—

Why does he look at her like that?

The moment they stepped out of the lecture hall, Maxine whirled around, arms crossed.

"What the hell was that?" she hissed, keeping her voice low but sharp.

Noah barely reacted, his expression as unreadable as ever. "I needed to speak with you."

She let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, really? And you just had to do it in front of my friends?"

His jaw tightened. "You were about to leave."

"Yeah, because I don't want to talk to you," she snapped.

His lips pressed into a thin line, the muscle in his jaw ticking. "Then stop running."

Her eyes flared. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he said, his voice low and steady, but there was something behind it—something dangerous. "Every time I try to talk to you, you avoid me. You think I don't notice?"

Maxine scoffed. "Oh, I know you notice, Professor. That's why you decided to humiliate me in front of my friends?"

His eyes darkened. "I wasn't trying to humiliate you."

"Well, congratulations, because now they're all wondering why the infamously cold Professor Castellano keeps pulling me aside like I'm some kind of special case."

His silence was damning.

Maxine huffed, stepping back. "Unbelievable."

Noah exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. "I didn't think—"

"That's right, you didn't," she interrupted. "Because if you had, you would've realized how insanely inappropriate it looks."

He held her gaze, his own unreadable. "You think I care about that?"

She froze, her stomach flipping violently at the way he said it—like he really, truly didn't.

Like he'd break every single unspoken rule between them just to get her to listen.

And that terrified her.

Maxine clenched her fists. "Well, I do."

His gaze flickered, something stormy passing through it, but he only nodded once. "Understood."

Something about the way he said it—calm, yet resigned—made her chest tighten.

But she ignored it.

"Good," she muttered, turning on her heel. "Now leave me alone."

She didn't wait for him to respond.

Didn't look back.

Didn't let herself acknowledge the part of her that knew—

That despite everything, she didn't really want him to.

Maxine stormed back toward her friends, her pulse hammering in her ears. She could still feel Noah's gaze burning into her back, but she refused to acknowledge it.

She needed distance. Space. Anything to stop the frustration curling in her chest like a fire she couldn't put out.

When she reached the group, Ashley was the first to speak, her eyes practically gleaming with curiosity. "Sooo, what was that about?"

"Nothing," Maxine said quickly, a little too quickly.

Bea raised an eyebrow. "Nothing? Right. Because nothing is totally what happens when the cold, mysterious, insanely rich professor pulls you aside like some secret rendezvous."

Jerome groaned. "Again with this? Can we please talk about something that isn't Castellano for once?"

Josh nodded in agreement. "Seriously, the man is everywhere lately. If he's not making our lives hell in class, he's suddenly got some weird interest in Maxine."

Maxine stiffened. "It's not like that."

Lianne hummed, arms crossed. "Then what is it like? Because from where we're standing, Mr. I-don't-do-emotions seems to have a lot of interest in you."

Maxine hesitated, searching for an excuse, an explanation—anything. But before she could come up with one, Ashley gasped, smacking Bea's arm. "Oh my God. Do you think she's the reason he's so grumpy all the time?"

Bea's eyes widened. "Wait, true. What if she rejected him or something?"

"Or," Lianne said, leaning in dramatically, "what if they used to be a thing and now it's all tense history and forbidden longing?"

Maxine choked. "What?"

Bea grinned. "Ooooh, I like that theory."

"Oh, for the love of—" Maxine ran a hand down her face. "None of that is true. He's my professor. That's it."

"Then why does he keep asking you to talk?" Lianne pressed, smirking.

Maxine opened her mouth—then closed it.

She hated that she had no answer. Hated that Noah was making things more complicated than they had to be.

Instead of responding, she turned to Jerome and Josh. "Please, I beg you, say something normal so we can change the topic."

Josh didn't hesitate. "I'm starving."

Jerome nodded. "Yeah, can we go eat now? I'd rather listen to my stomach growl than another second of this Castellano obsession."

"Thank you." Maxine exhaled, grabbing her bag. "Let's go."

The others groaned in protest but followed anyway, their curiosity lingering in the air.

As they walked, Maxine let out a breath, willing herself to shake off the frustration still lingering from her conversation with Noah.

She told herself it didn't matter.

Told herself she was done playing whatever game he thought they were in.

But deep down, she knew—

Noah Castellano never let her walk away that easily.

Maxine thought that putting space between herself and Noah would help. That if she avoided him long enough, the tension—the pull—would disappear.

But she was wrong.

Because Noah Castellano wasn't just anyone.

He was her professor.

And no matter how much she tried to ignore him, he was always there.

—

"Alright, before we begin, a reminder that your midterm essays are due next week. I expect them to be well-researched and readable," Noah said, his tone as cold and authoritative as ever. His sharp gaze swept across the lecture hall, indifferent as always.

At least, mostly indifferent.

Maxine had learned to stop looking at him.

Because when she did, she caught things she wasn't supposed to.

Like the way his gaze lingered just a little longer when it landed on her. Or the way his jaw tensed whenever she actively ignored him.

And she was very actively ignoring him.

She kept her eyes on her notes, pretending not to notice the stolen glances, the way his voice seemed to sharpen whenever he addressed her row, as if daring her to look at him.

She wouldn't.

She refused.

But her friends?

Oh, they were thriving in the drama.

Lianne nudged Ashley, whispering under her breath. "I swear, he keeps looking this way."

Ashley smirked. "Maybe he's finally noticing how pretty I am."

Jerome scoffed. "Or maybe he's planning a pop quiz just to ruin our day."

Josh groaned. "That's more likely. Can we not give this man more power than he already has?"

Maxine kept her head down, gripping her pen tighter. She didn't need to participate in their speculation.

She just needed to survive this class.

—

But of course, Noah had other plans.

The moment class ended and students started shuffling out, Maxine hurried to gather her things. Move fast, disappear. That was her strategy.

And yet—

"Miss Nieves," Noah's voice rang out.

Her breath caught. Not again!

Because he didn't say it in front of the whole class this time.

No, this was quieter. Just loud enough for her to hear.

But unfortunately, not quiet enough to escape her friends' ears.

Ashley's eyes widened. Oh my God.

Bea all but gasped. No way.

Lianne had a knowing smirk. Interesting.

Maxine clenched her jaw.

This wasn't interesting. This was infuriating.

Slowly, she turned. "Yes, Professor?"

His expression was unreadable, his gaze steady. "A word."

She stared at him, resisting the urge to scream.

Her friends, meanwhile, were losing their minds.

Jerome crossed his arms. "Okay, I need to know what's going on now."

Josh groaned. "Not again with Castellano."

Ashley, Bea, and Lianne, on the other hand, looked far too entertained.

Maxine exhaled sharply, shooting them a glare before looking back at Noah. "I don't—" She hesitated, glanced at her friends, then back at him. "I don't think that's necessary."

Something flickered in his eyes. Something she couldn't quite place.

But then he did something infuriating.

He smirked.

It was brief—barely there—but she saw it.

And she wanted to punch him for it.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides. "Fine."

She felt her friends' eyes boring into her as she stepped closer, as she followed Noah out of the lecture hall.

And behind her, she could hear the chaos.

"Okay, I know you saw that." Ashley said.

"Tell me why that was the hottest thing ever." Bea added.

"Are they about to have a forbidden lovers moment?" Lianne added to the fire.

"You guys need help." Jerome said.

"I hate everything about this." Josh added.

Maxine didn't turn back.

Didn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her reaction.

Because right now?

She was too busy trying to figure out how to handle the man walking beside her.

The one she hated.

The one she couldn't seem to escape.

Maxine followed Noah out of the lecture hall, her heart hammering in her chest. She hated this—hated that he could summon her with nothing more than a look, hated that her friends were still talking about it as she walked away, and most of all, hated that she still cared.

The hallway was mostly empty, save for a few students lingering by the doors. Noah didn't stop until they reached his office, his pace steady, his posture rigid.

She shouldn't be here.

She shouldn't be alone with him.

Not after what happened. Not after what he did.

But here she was anyway.

He held the door open, waiting for her to step inside.

She hesitated.

He arched a brow. "I don't have all day, Miss Nievez."

Her stomach twisted. Miss Nievez. So formal. So detached.

So fake.

With a quiet breath, she walked in.

The door clicked shut behind her, and suddenly, the space felt too small, the air too heavy.

Noah exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. "You're still mad."

Maxine let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, you think?"

He leaned against his desk, arms crossed. "You avoided me for weeks."

She threw her hands up. "And I was doing a damn good job of it until you decided to call me again always out in front of my friends!"

He tilted his head slightly. "I needed to talk to you."

"And you couldn't have done it privately?"

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "You weren't exactly answering my calls."

Maxine scoffed. "Maybe because I didn't want to talk to you, Noah."

His expression darkened. "I noticed."

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Maxine folded her arms. "So? What was so important that you had to make a scene?"

He stared at her for a moment, something unreadable in his gaze. "Are you seeing him?"

Her brow furrowed. "What?"

"The guy from the event." His voice was measured, but she could hear the tension beneath it. "Are you seeing him?"

Maxine blinked, taken aback.

Then she laughed.

It wasn't a soft laugh. It was sharp, incredulous.

"You're jealous."

Noah's jaw clenched. "That's not—"

She stepped closer, daring him to deny it. "You are."

He exhaled through his nose, tilting his head back as if praying for patience. "It's a simple question, Maxine."

She could feel the frustration rolling off him in waves, could see the way his hands curled against his arms, the way his body tensed.

And for some reason, she wanted to push him further.

She shrugged. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

His eyes snapped back to hers, sharp and unforgiving.

She held his gaze, refusing to back down.

Then—so softly it was almost a whisper—he said, "It is my business."

Maxine felt her breath hitch.

Because there was something raw in his voice. Something real.

But she wasn't going to fall for it. Not again.

She forced a smirk. "Well, in that case, yes."

His entire body went still.

His expression didn't change, but she felt the shift in the air, saw the way his fingers flexed, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

Maxine had barely turned the handle when she heard him move.

Not a loud sound—just a shift, a slight rustle of fabric, the quiet scrape of his shoes against the floor.

Then, before she could register what was happening, she felt him behind her.

Close.

Too close.

His presence was a heat against her back, a tension crackling between them like a live wire.

She went rigid. Don't react. Don't give him the satisfaction.

Noah exhaled, the sound slow and measured, but his voice—low, barely above a whisper—was anything but calm.

"Say it again."

Her fingers tightened on the door handle. "Say what?"

"You know what."

His breath ghosted against the side of her neck, and she hated—hated—the way her skin prickled in response.

She swallowed hard. "That I'm seeing someone?"

She felt rather than saw his reaction. The subtle shift in his stance, the way his hands flexed at his sides.

"Yes," he said, voice rougher this time. "Say it again. The truth."

Maxine turned her head slightly, just enough to glance at him from the corner of her eye. He looked composed—at least on the surface—but there was something dark behind his expression. Something barely restrained.

She had seen Noah angry before.

She had seen him cold, distant, detached.

But this? This was something else entirely.

A slow, dangerous burn.

And damn it, she should walk away.

She should.

But instead, she twisted her body, just enough to face him fully. Just enough to challenge him.

She tilted her chin up. "Why does it matter?"

Noah's gaze dropped to her lips for half a second before snapping back up.

"It doesn't," he lied.

Maxine let out a breathless laugh. "Then why are we having this conversation?"

He didn't answer.

Didn't move.

Just stood there, watching her with that unreadable expression, his body mere inches from hers.

The air between them grew heavier, charged with something neither of them wanted to name.

She shouldn't test him.

She shouldn't—

But her anger was winning, twisting into something reckless, something dangerous.

So she took a step closer.

And another.

Until there was no space left between them.

His breath hitched.

Good.

She tilted her head, voice soft, teasing. "You don't look like someone who doesn't care."

Noah's jaw tensed. "You're playing a dangerous game, Maxine."

Her fingers itched to grab onto something—his shirt, his tie, anything to ground herself. But she didn't.

Instead, she whispered, "You started it."

His hand shot out.

For a second, she thought he was going to grab her. But instead, his palm landed against the door beside her, caging her in.

A warning.

She should be intimidated.

She should back down.

But she didn't.

Because for the first time since he walked back into her life, she had the upper hand.

And she wasn't about to let it go.

Noah let out a slow breath, as if trying to regain control. "This conversation is over."

She arched a brow. "You're the one who pulled me into your office."

A muscle ticked in his jaw.

He was losing control.

Good.

Because he had taken hers long ago, and it was about damn time she returned the favor.

So she leaned in, just enough that if either of them moved even a fraction closer, they'd be touching.

Then she whispered, "I should go."

Noah didn't move.

Didn't step back.

Didn't give her any space.

His gaze dropped to her lips again.

Then, finally, he let out a slow exhale, fingers curling slightly against the door.

"Go, then," he said, voice raw.

Maxine held his gaze for a long, unbearable moment. "I'm not seeing anyone, If that's what bothers you." Then, with a smirk she wasn't sure was entirely steady, she turned the handle and walked out.

And for the first time in a long time, he was the one left standing in silence.