te's
irl in the seat next to me, it's whispered like
ans in, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind
my barely-touched
't take bullshit from anyone." She pauses for a
s Literature and Media Studies program for eye candy but after three years of lectures from prof
other girl chimes in. "I heard he lef
she tilts to face the gir
e walls might be listening. "No idea. But h
all kinds of things, plagiarism, departmental politics
ens and at that point, I r
e room goes silen
ed, with a strong jaw and glasses that
se with his gaze sweeping over the room like he's
ian Cross. If you're in this class because you think 'Contemporary Litera
students, and for a second, they
t flares in his expressi
me, the rumors suddenly become a lot more intriguing as this sem
olls around, the rumors about Professor Cros
m NYU for sleepin
some department scandal
Or was. Left
ad stu
into the seat next to me, d
f dark academic antihero," I muttered, f
o admit, it's kind of h
essor with a questionable past? If this were a
This isn't
efinitely getti
as I hate to admit it but she's right. My
of the semester, and Professor Cross i
ough to reveal the lean muscles of his forearms. His glasses rest on the bridg
s, voice smooth but firm. "What isn't
tening and taking notes. But ins
t trying. The way every girl in this class is
he turns
ond to realize he
sitting u
xpression unreadable. "What's you
from The Age of Innocence-a scene crackling with unspoken
mart or analytical. Inst
eady. "But they can't have each other," I
test shift, the briefest moment
"Good. Next ti
t, calling on someone else, b
w the same tension in his eyes, t
rstand why the r
see Professor Cross outside
im standing by the faculty building. He's alone, leaning against a sleek black ca
ut something about the way he's standing stiff, and guarded
just looking
t move before my b
pproach, "you look way t
a brief moment, surprise crosses his face. Then in a spli
his phone into his pocket.
ouldn't you
t. Instead, he pushes off the car, straightening to his fu