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The Professor‘s Lies

The Professor‘s Lies

Auteur:KittyKash

Fini

Introduction
He was her teacher. She was his student. But, that's where the problems only begin. Alana Hayes has everything worked out when she transfers to the university; everything fits her normal routine. Sassy and strong, she just wanted to get through college, but finds herself falling head over heels in love with the professor. Rowan Masters is anything but normal. He is sexy and he knows it. The ladies adore him from afar, because they know there's something hiding behind those mocha eyes. He is good with keeping appearances, but Alana sees through the tough exterior. And although she knows that her growing admiration for the professor is wrong, she is ready to unveil past secrets and lies. Are there any redeeming quantities within Rowan or is he really damaged beyond repair?
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Chapitre

Alana

The alarm blared in my ears, threatening to deafen me. I raised my palm to my face to shield myself from the sunlight pouring out the windows and glanced towards the clock sitting beside the night stand.

Holy SHIT!

The time was 9:00 am, and I was still under the covers, late for my class on the first day of my college. I got ready in a matter of fifteen minutes, not bothering to apply mascara or whatever, running a hand through my hair in a hurry. I'd already packed the stuff I needed the night before which was a relief. Next thing, I grabbed for an apple from the dorm lunch room, ignoring the irritated yell from the lunch lady hounding me to sit and eat. I ran out the dorms to the university building on the opposite side of the road. The last thing I wanted to do was make a bad impression on my professors which would take me an eternity to wipe clean.

I pushed through the massive campus gate, and into the never—ending campus garden which was also being surrounded by facility blocks from every possible direction. Tough looking guys played basketball on the left side of the field. Groups of other kids remained settled on the stadium steps with books lying open on their laps, eyes watching the game. You get the drift?

I ignored all the chaos and entered the building, the class list ruffled in my fingers. Some people smiled at me, some even offered me a wave, and others refused to acknowledge my existence.

I scanned the surroundings, looking for the familiar face that was supposed to be here before me, the guy who was usually misunderstood as the possessive boyfriend. He was the guy who pushed me off from the swings when we were five, just to see the dirt smack in my face. If you haven't guessed yet, then I'll tell you. Chez was a childhood friend from back home in Ridgewell. He arrived here in Carmel University six months before my arrival. I retrieved my phone out of the pocket and sent him a quick text asking him where he was.

Chez did not respond right away, so I figured he would be snoring face down on the floor. Yep. I said the floor. That's what he did when he snored and rolled all over the bed in a peaceful slumber. A habit since he was six. After a few minutes of no show, I did what I do best which is nag—call him until he was forced to answer.

Fifteen minutes and his phone probably had twenty missed calls and ten text messages. I had it all figured out pretty fast. I walked to class reluctantly, not conscious of the direction I was headed in.

I mean come on. The place was shit huge.

To my utter relief, the phone vibrated in my pocket. I checked it.

Chez— sorry babe, been sleeping.

Figured.

I'll see you the next class, I promise.

I typed back.

F*ck off.

I scanned the class list. Economics was my first lecture. I cursed under my breath, making my way towards nowhere in particular. I had to be in Lala land because I did not notice the Greek god almost walk right into me. The books flew out of my hands and scattered across the floor.

"I'm so sorry." His voice came off as a deep rumble, "Here, I'll help you."

I glanced up, and that's when the world around me froze. Just the way it happens in any other cliché romance movies. The slow—motion style.

He was what you'd call tall, dark, and handsome. The long ends of his wavy dark curls were swept across his forehead, a striking contrast with the mocha coffee—colored eyes, which looked me dead in the eye. The bronze complexion highlighted his defined cheekbones and his long lashes. He smiled warmly, showcasing a perfect set of dimples. The creator had certainly taken a month off from his daily schedule to concentrate on this project. That was a given.

I couldn't help but stare at him, and that flawlessly chiseled jaw was something I could stare at all day.

Kill me!

He was by far the most attractive guy I'd ever laid eyes upon in my eighteen years of life. If I spoke, I knew I'd spout all the crap and ruin the moment, so I remained shut. He handed me back my files and books, not averting his eyes from me even for a nanosecond, and picked up his own books.

Neither of us spoke. He remained glued to the place.

I, being a sucker for eye—candy did the same, after about a good ten seconds of staring, he decided to break the awkward silence, "Maybe my memory is playing or I've been walking blindfolded or a few years. Have I seen you here before?"

It was like the best thing I'd ever heard like he'd confessed his undying love to me. I know, my brain worked really trashy in the mornings, and mostly when I see a gorgeous guy speaking to me. He was working up for harmless flirting. Or I was reading too much into this.

Chances were it was the latter part.

I laughed like it was the best joke of the century. "It's my first day here. I joined today."

Suddenly I had a desperate urge to brush my hair back, but I refrained from doing so.

"Well, that explains it then." He beamed at me.

I decided to open my mouth, "Uh...can you?" Dayum. I was stammering. "Can you tell me where class 201 is? I'm still trying to figure out this stupid map."

He smiled again, revealing adorable dimples; he sure knew what effect it had on women. He asked, "You like economics?"

"I'm not really good at it, but it's not like I had a choice. Between math and economics, I'd choose this any day. It's like choosing between the shark and the green—eyed monster. I'm going for the shark."

Shut the fuck up Alana, you're a blubbering mess.

He eyed me warily. "Not sure if I should be flattered or insulted."

Now, why would he say that?

Then it clicked. The guy was an economics major. Sheesh! Way to impress the guy.

He tore his eyes from me as he continued, "Just walk straight from here and you'll see a D Block," he pointed towards a building on the opposite side of the field. "Second floor, the door on your right."

"Thanks." I wished he'd at least walked me to class.

As if answering my unspoken question, he added, "I would have gladly played the chaperon here since I'm heading towards the same class, but, I need to stop by the staff room first."

"That’s fine, I'll figure out." I assured him. "Finding the class isn't really rocket science. Haha."

He smiled at my lame retort. "You sure gonna you’re be okay? I could always ask someone to accompany you."

"No. I'll be fine."

He checked his watch, "Good. I'll see you in class then."

"Sure," I said and added. "I'll save you a seat."

He arched his brow, chuckled softly as he spun around. I watched him walk through the passageway until I could see him almond size, only then I made my way to class.

That was definitely a great start. Great with a capital 'G'.