her knapsack for nothing in particular.
“There’s a great Thai place down the street. It’s a few blocks away, so it would be a bit of a walk. But the food is really good. If you don’t have plans, let me take you to dinner.”
His nervousness was telegraphed only in the slow and subtle tapping of his right foot, which Julia detected out of the corner of her eye, just visible over the edge of the coffee table. She looked up into his warm, dark eyes and thought briefly about how kindness was worth so much more in the world than passion, and she said yes before she could even contemplate saying no.
He smiled as if her acceptance gave him more than a secret delight, and picked up her knapsack, effortlessly swinging it to his shoulder. “This is too heavy a burden for you.” He said, gazing into her eyes, choosing every word carefully. “Let me carry it for a while.”
Julia smiled at her toes and followed him outside.
***
Professor Emerson was walking home from work. It was a short walk, although on inclement days and days on which he had evening engagements, he drove.
While he traveled, he thought about the lecture that he was going to deliver at the university, on lust in Dante. Lust was a sin that he found himself thinking of often and with much enjoyment. In fact, the thought of lust and its myriad satisfactions was so tantalizing, Professor Emerson found himself pulling his trench coat closed so the slightly spectacular sight of the front of his trousers would not attract untoward attention.
That’s when he saw her. He stopped, staring across the street at the attractive brunette.
Calamity Julianne.
Except she was not alone. Paul was holding her abomination of a book bag and walking with her. They were chatting easily and laughing and strolling dangerously close to one another.
Carrying her books now, are we? How very adolescent of you, Paul.
Professor Emerson watched as the couple’s hands brushed against each other, drawing a small but warm smile from Miss Mitchell. A growl rumbled low in Emerson’s throat, and his lips curled back from his teeth.
What the hell was that? he thought.
Professor Emerson took a moment to collect himself, and as he leaned against the window of the Louis Vuitton boutique, he tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. He was a rational agent. He wore clothes to cover his nakedness, he drove a car, and he ate with a knife and a fork and a linen napkin. He was gainfully employed in a job that required intellectual ability and acuity. He controlled his sexual urges through various civilized means and would never take a woman against her will.
Nevertheless, as he stared at Miss Mitchell and Paul, he realized that he was an animal. Something primitive. Something feral. And something made him want to go over there and rip Paul’s hands from his body and carry Miss Mitchell off. To kiss her senseless, move his lips to her neck, and claim her.
What the fuck?
The thought scared the living hell out of The Professor. In addition to being an ass and a pompous prick, he was a knuckle-dragging, potentially mouth-breathing Neanderthal who felt some proprietary ownership over a younger woman he barely knew and who hated him. Not to mention the fact that she was his student.
He needed to go home, lie down, and breathe until he calmed the fuck down. Then he was going to need something else, something stronger to calm his urges. As Professor Emerson continued his journey home, dragging himself painfully away from the sight of the two young people together, he pulled out his iPhone and quickly pressed a few buttons.
A woman answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Hello, it’s me. Can I see you tonight?”
***
The following Wednesday, Julia was walking out of the department building after Emerson’s seminar when she heard a familiar voice call to her.
“Julia? Julia Mitchell, is that you?”
She whipped around and was drawn into a hug that was so tight she thought she’d choke.
“Rachel,” she managed as she fought for air.
The thin, blond-haired girl squealed loudly and hugged Julia again. “I’ve missed you. I can’t believe it has been so long! What are you doing here?”
“Rachel, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything and for your mom and…everything.”
Two friends were quiet in their shared sorrow and held one another for a long time.
“I’m sorry I missed the funeral. How’s your dad?” Julia asked, wiping away tears.
“He’s lost without her.