"Girl, you're gonna slay," Summer says."You've got this.You're smart, driven, and beautiful.Your professors won't know what hit them."
Gemma winks."And all new classes mean new people.Maybe find yourself some yummy arm candy."
"No dating until after I graduate," I say quickly, my stomach twisting with the thought of dating anyone but Gage.
"Sure, sure," Summer teases.
We talk for a few more minutes before I say goodbye and get dressed.Their words echo in my head as I head to school and walk across campus.I can do this.One more year.
Then I will have my Masters in Business degree.One more year, then I can finally start making my dream happen.I haven't told anyone what I really want to do, not even Summer or Gemma.It's not just about opening a spa.
I want a space that welcomes every kind of woman.Moms, daughters, and women who never get a break.A whole mommy-and-me section where they can unwind together.Luxurious.Safe.Empowering.But for now, I need to survive one more year of lectures, assignments, and caffeine-fueled nights.
Sliding into my seat in the back row of my Corporate Innovation class, I pull out my laptop and notebook.The syllabus is up on the screen, and students are already chattering about how easy or hard it'll be.I'm half-listening, half-making a mental to-do list when I feel the air change.
The door opens, and I look up.
No.
No.No.No.No.NO!
My heart slams against my ribs, and my stomach twists.
Gage.
He walks in like he owns the room, wearing a button-up shirt that clings to his shoulders, and jeans that should be illegal on a man over thirty.He doesn't see me at first, but I see him.Every detail.Every inch of skin I've kissed.Every command he's growled in my ear.
Then he looks up, and his eyes scan the room and land right on me.
For a split second, he falters.Just enough for me to see the panic.But then he's smooth again, moving to the front of the room and opening his laptop like it's just another Tuesday.
"Good morning.I'm Professor Owens.Welcome to Corporate Innovation."
No.Freaking.Way.
The girl next to me leans over."Please tell me he's single.That man is hot.Like, tattooed-daddy-hot."
I choke on my water, coughing violently.She pats my back.
"You good?"she asks.
I nod, still gasping for air."Wrong pipe."
But it's not the water that's choking me.It's the realization that the man who ties me up on weekends is now standing in front of me as my professor.
He starts going over the syllabus, his voice steady, but his eyes flicking to me more than necessary.His usual confidence is there, but I see the cracks.The way he skips a line.The slight shake in his hand when he clicks to the next slide.He stumbles slightly over a phrase and clears his throat, but recovers fast.No one else notices.But I do.
He paces slowly as he talks, and I see the way his hands grip the podium just a little too tightly.The way he avoids looking at me for too long.The way his voice drops just slightly when he reads the section about participation and expectations.He's performing.He's pretending.Just like me.
Every time he glances at me, my heart lurches.Does he think I'll say something?That I'll expose everything?
I force myself to take notes.To look busy.To breathe.
When he opens the floor for questions, the girl next to me raises her hand.
"Are you married?"she asks, grinning.
Laughter bubbles across the room.Gage doesn't miss a beat.