Just the sound of her voice saying that name has my cock raging hard beneath my desk.
“Yes, Chloe?”
“I have a proposition for you.”
I glance around the class as the other students filter in, wondering if this is it. If this will be my
undoing. If she will put me to shame in front of them as I rightfully deserve.
“Our final projects are coming up soon,” she says. “And since this will be my last semester here, I
was hoping you could help with mine.”
I blink up at her. And suddenly I’m less concerned with my shame than the words she just uttered.
“What do you mean it’s your last semester here?” I ask. “You’ve only just begun.”
She frowns and shrugs her dainty shoulder in the way that she often does when she is upset.
“My father wants me to start auditioning for companies,” she answers in a flat voice. “The shelf
life of a dancer is short, and he only agreed to let me come here for a year. But now…”
Her words drift off, and I am irrationally angry on her behalf. It is clear to me that although Chloe
loves to dance, it is not the thing she wants to do. I would say that it should be clear to her father too,
but I know just as well that isn’t the case.
I heard the recordings. I heard his voice. Degrading her. Destroying her.
Which is probably the very reason she stands before me now, with her big blue eyes looking at me
with admiration.
It occurs to me in this moment that she has father issues. And it also occurs to me that the very last
thing I want her to see in me is a father figure.
She shouldn’t admire me. Or look to me for help. She should be running as far away from me as she
can. But I can’t let her go. I can’t let her follow that path when I know it will destroy her.
Just as my father’s insistence to follow an academic path destroyed me. He wanted something real
to fall back on. Because art isn’t something to make a living on, he’d say.
And oddly enough, I’ve never had to worry about money.
That isn’t why I’m here now.
But neither is the pressing need to help the lost girl in front of me.
Still, my lips are speaking the words before I can stop it from happening.
“How can I help you, Chloe?”
My words bring her relief, and I watch as she opens up to me. Probably the first time she’s opened