full of links that the students needed in order to access most things regarding the class.
When my phone buzzed in my pocket, indicating that it was time for class to start, I picked up the stack of papers and looked up at my students.
“Good morning. I’m Professor Engleson, and I’ll be with you for the next sixteen weeks. Here’s the list of links you’ll need, so either get them saved into your computer, or don’t lose the paper. All links can also be found on my personal faculty page. The link for that is on here. Again, get it saved or beg the person next to you for it in a few weeks when the first paper is due.” I handed out the stack of papers to the first in each row. I just about threw up my coffee when I came face-to-face with none other than Dax. There was no way he was my student. He couldn’t be. He was older than twenty-two, I was sure of it, and my life was going to be a living hell if I had to spend the next semester with the one man I wanted to spend the night with, fucking our brains out.
When I handed a stack of papers to Dax, he gave me a curt nod, his eyes never leaving mine. “Professor Engleson, nice to meet you,” Dax said as he took a sheet and passed it down.
“Likewise. Although I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage as I don’t know yet which student you are.” It didn’t matter. If he was my student, I had him on the roster, and I’d be able to get his name once I pulled it up.
“Dax. Dax Phillips, sir.”
“Very good. Nice to meet you as well,” I told him and continued on to the next row. I somehow managed to get back to the front of my class and through the first-day lecture without staring at my student that I knew better than any others. I was fucked, truly and completely fucked, because there was no way I could have a relationship with Dax Phillips. It couldn’t happen—it wasn’t allowed. Which was why I made sure to only pick up men that were older. Ones that were beyond senior-year level. Fuck. There was always the chance that a student was older, but of all of the lecture halls for my Dax from Saturday night to show up in, why did he have to be in mine?
I was back in the sanctuary of my office, having taught both classes on my morning schedule, when there was a hesitant knock on the door. I was almost positive I knew who it was. I didn’t have office hours today, and the only other person who ever came to my office was Dave and he knocked and then simply entered most days.
“Come in, Mr. Phillips,” I said, taking a chance, and sure enough, Dax stuck his head in the door and gave me a forced smile.
“Umm, Professor Engleson, am I interrupting?”
“No. Now, come in and have a seat, Mr. Phillips,” I said, indicating the chair across from my desk. Dax trudged into my office, and when he was in front of my desk, I felt bad for him. He was incredibly nervous, and I understood why.
“Professor Engleson, I swear I won’t say anything about Saturday night. I…”
I waited, but when Dax deflated and hung his head, I had to try to fix things, if at all possible. “Dax, listen, not only does the university have strict rules about fraternization between faculty and students, but it’s not something I would recommend either. That being said,” I continued, holding up a hand, indicating for him to hang on when he started to say something. “I didn’t know you were going to be my student, and you didn’t know I was to be your professor. But no matter what happened on Saturday, there can be no more. Nothing else can happen between us. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. Umm, I have your shirt. I couldn’t find mine. Did you want me to bring it back? Or maybe to class one day?”
“Well, if you bring it to class, how exactly will that look?” I asked as I leaned back in my chair. And thinking about it, now I was really hoping that Dax kept the shirt and showed up in it one day. That thought had my dick taking notice, and I did my best to will it to behave. He wasn’t for me.
“Fuck.