Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
And the men who came after? The select few I went to bed with before they discovered I come with child baggage and run for the hills? Those men didn’t exactly let me explore my sexuality all that much. The attraction I felt for my past flings wasn’t the kind of instant, sizzling, all-consuming desire I feel for Shane Warden.
I have a feeling going to bed with him would be an out-of-this-world experience. I only wish I could find out if my imagination lives up to reality. I want that so badly I am willing to overlook the fact that I had a baby and my body isn’t the thin, lithe one I had when I was in college the first time.
As I realize my mind has drifted back to Shane the man once more, I acknowledge I really am not doing a good job of putting him in the professor box. But if I am going to accomplish my mission, earn my degree, make my son proud, and provide him with the best life I possibly can, I have no choice but to focus on my studies. I need to at least pass my Intro to Economics class, and I am struggling. Badly.
But I have an exam tomorrow I need to pass, so after FaceTiming with L.J., who is having a blast in the Big Apple, catching up with Carrie and Samuel, and then having my weekly check-in with each of the guys in New York, I make myself a cup of coffee and settle in to study.
* * *
Shane
I sit in my family room, grading the most recent test I gave to the class, and groan when I come to Amber’s exam. No matter how I look at it, she is one point short of passing. Although for most students, I’d chalk it up to a bad exam result, upload the grade, and move on, I pore over her test, trying to figure out what the issue is so I can help her, because she really is trying hard to succeed.
She is doing the work, reading the assignments, participating in class, and asking all the right questions when she has a problem. Clearly, she is eager to learn and is doing everything she can … on her own. Either her study techniques are an issue or the subject matter just doesn’t make sense in her brain. Not everyone excels in every course, but if she really needs this as a prerequisite, she has to pass the class.
I notice, too, that she’s joined a study group, which is a positive step, except that group includes a student, Dan Markham, I had before in a math class. Dan doesn’t struggle in the class the way Amber does, but he is averaging a B- and he isn’t happy. In my past with Dan, the boy has issues with any grade less than an A and has a tendency to blame the teacher and not accept responsibility himself. Not that Amber would know that. It isn’t my place to say anything to her, either. I hoped that Dan and the others would be able to help Amber, that they could all help each other, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.
I’ll have to talk to her about her grade after class today. Without a significant change, she is at risk of failing the entire course, and there is no way she can pass the final. With the right help, however, there is still hope. Although I tell myself I’d go to this extreme for any of my students, in my heart, I know I am digging deeper because this is Amber … and I feel a connection to her even if I have kept my distance.
I stand at the front of the room, trying to concentrate on the subject matter, which I know inside and out, or on the other kids in the room, but my gaze always comes to rest on Amber. Yes, she is older than the others, but she is persistent, and I admire her diligence. She sits and types in her notes, occasionally resorting to a notepad and pen, always paying attention.
I know when she is frustrated by the cute crinkle of her nose and realize when she catches on to a concept by the bright light in those striking blue eyes. While taking exams, she twirls her hair around her finger, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth while trying to figure out the answer. And when she is antsy, she crosses and uncrosses her legs, nice long legs I admire, even when covered by jeans or leggings.
I have it bad for her, and it isn’t easy to focus on what matters most. All my students. My job. Tenure.
Fuck.
I don’t sleep well that night and arrive at class just in time to start the lecture. I wait until the last five minutes to hand back the exams, not meeting Amber’s gaze as I slide the paper onto her desk.