I shouldn’t have noticed her. I shouldn’t notice any of them. I’m the teacher, they’re students—end of story. But the second she walked into my classroom, I knew I was in trouble.

Red hair, freckles across her nose, eyes that lit up when she took her seat in the front row. Petite, poised, actually ready to pay attention while the others were too busy whispering or checking their phones. She was… different. Sweet. And far too young for me to even be entertaining these thoughts.

I cleared my throat, adjusted my tie like it might tighten the grip I needed on myself. You’re here to teach, Grayson. Not to get distracted.

“Good morning, everyone,” I said, my voice steady, polished. The golden boy mask never falters. Except my eyes betrayed me, flicking back to her as she scribbled down the date at the top of her notebook.

God, she actually takes notes. Not because she wants to impress me, but because she cares. That’s rarer than I’d like to admit.

At one point, her gaze lifted. Just for a second. Our eyes met. And something in my chest shifted—something I couldn’t quite suppress.

“Professor Hawthorne?” her voice chimed, soft but clear. “Yes?” I replied, maybe too quickly. “I just… I didn’t quite understand that last example. Could you explain it again?”

She wasn’t bluffing, wasn’t trying to flirt like the others sometimes did. She genuinely wanted to understand. And so I explained it, careful, patient. But the whole time I was thinking, Don’t let it show. Don’t let her see what she does to you.

When she smiled and nodded, relief crossing her features, it almost undid me. She didn’t even realize how stunning she looked when she smiled.

I forced myself to continue the lecture, burying myself in formulas and theories. Yet every time my eyes scanned the room, they landed on her. I hated myself for it.

Damn, Grayson. She’s eighteen. You’re twenty-four. It’s not forbidden, but it’s reckless. The campus would eat you alive. You’d prove everyone right—the Hawthorne heir can’t keep himself under control.

And still… when she tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear, completely unaware of the chaos she was causing in my head, I couldn’t stop the thought from slipping through:

I’m screwed.