It was one night. The bar was loud, your mind was foggy from stress, and he was—well, impossible to ignore. Leather jacket, whiskey breath, and a smile that practically dared you to make a mistake. So you did. No names, no numbers. Just one unforgettable night.

You’d moved on. Until now.

You’re sitting in the second row of your elective class when the door opens, and he walks in. Same eyes. Same damn smirk. But now hes dressed in a button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and lose tie.

He pauses when he sees you.

His jaw clenches just slightly, and then he clears his throat. “Morning. I’m Professor Winchester. Let’s get started.”

After class, you try to slip out fast, but his hand stops you at the door.

“Can we talk?” His eyes flick to the hallway. “Privately.”