The class finally settled down after Sophie's little performance. She kept insisting she was fine, flashing that perfect smile of hers while everyone fussed over her.
Meanwhile, I could barely keep my composure. Every time Mr. MacLean's hand brushed her arm as he helped her back to her seat, something ugly twisted in my stomach.
He cleared his throat, straightened his notes, and continued teaching like nothing happened. I tried to focus, but all I could see was her still sitting up front, pretending to be dizzy while soaking up his attention.
By the time the lecture ended, I'd barely written a full page.
"Alright, everyone. That's it for today," he said, gathering his notes. "We'll pick up from here next class."
And just like that, he walked out.
My heart kicked up. This was my chance.
I stuffed my notebook into my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and practically jumped to my feet. I needed to talk to him about the student assistant position.
But before I could even take a step, Bree's hand clamped around my arm.
"Whoa, whoa. Where do you think you're going?"
"To do something important," I said, trying to wriggle free.
She raised a brow. "I have a better idea. Let's grab a late breakfast. I'm famished."
I blinked at her. "Why wouldn't you be? After your morning cardio session."
She laughed. "That, and this dramatic class has made me really hungry. I thought this was Psych 101, not a freaking drama club."
"You can say that again," I muttered, glancing toward the door Mr. MacLean had disappeared through.
Bree leaned closer. "Anyway, I'm throwing a little party at my place tonight. You should totally come. I can introduce you to people."
Her grin told me exactly what kind of people she meant...Boys.
"It's Tuesday," I said flatly. "We have class tomorrow."
"Don't be such a nerd, Chess Princess. It's just a little get-together. Meet new friends, loosen up a little."
I sighed. "I'll think about it."
"Perfect. Give me your number, I'll send you the address."
She handed me her phone, and I quickly typed it in.
"Now, if you'll excuse me," I said, slipping out of her grip, "I have something important to do."
Before she could say another word, I darted toward the hallway.
My heart pounded so loudly by the time I reach his office, it feels like everyone in the building can hear it.
I stop in front of the door, take a deep breath, and try to calm myself. This is fine. I'm just here to talk about a position. Totally professional. Totally normal.
I knock once.
"Come in," his voice calls, low, deep, and smooth.
My stomach flips.
I push the door open and step inside.
His office looks exactly how I imagined it neat, minimal, a little too serious. There's a big window behind his desk, sunlight spilling across the shelves and floor. His books are arranged by color, his files stacked perfectly.
But it's the table in the middle that catches my attention. A dark wooden desk, polished and broad.
And for one completely inappropriate second, I imagine him pushing everything off it. The sound of papers scattering. His hands gripping my waist, his deep voice murmuring something filthy while he bends me over that very desk....
I blink hard. Oh my God. Stop it, Rachel.
"Ah… Miss Miller."
His voice snaps me back to reality. He's sitting behind the desk, looking at me with that calm, unreadable expression.
"How can I help you?"
I take a quick breath. "I actually came to talk about the student assistant position. I applied yesterday."
Something shifts in his expression. But it's so small, I might've imagined it.
Then, flatly he replies.."I've already found a student assistant. But thank you for your interest."
My stomach drops.
"Oh. Right. Um, of course. That's great. I just thought…" My words start tripping over themselves. "I just thought maybe you hadn't made a final decision yet. Because I—I really think I'd be a good fit."
"Miss Miller." He starts to speak, but I barrel on.
"I'm organized, I take good notes, I don't mind long hours or boring work. And I'm great at making coffee, if that helps. I mean, not that I think your assistant should just make coffee, but if that's part of it, I could totally—"
"Miss Miller—"
"I'm also really good at research. And grading. And I'm quiet. Usually. Except for right now. Oh God, I'm rambling, aren't I?"
He exhales slowly, clearly fighting a battle with his patience. "Miss Miller, I already have an assistant."
"Right, but maybe she's not as efficient as me? Or maybe she'll get sick, or transfer, or die...wait, not die, I don't mean that, I just mean...."
"Miss Miller." His tone sharpens.
I freeze for half a second, then blurt, "I can even alphabetize your files. Or color-code them. I'll literally do anything you want. Anything."
His hand slams down on the desk.
"That's enough, Miss Miller!" His voice is ice and steel all at once. "I already have an assistant. If you have nothing else to say—"
He leans forward his voice dropping. "Then.... Get. Out. Of. My. Office."
The silence that follows is brutal.
I stare at him, wide-eyed. His jaw is tight, his eyes darker than usual.
It's terrifying. And hot.
God help me, it's so hot. How I wish he would pin me to a wall.
"I'm—I'm sorry," I stammer. "I didn't mean to..."
"Just leave, Miss Miller." His voice is softer now, but the warning is still there.
I nod quickly, blinking hard to keep the tears back. "Right. Of course. Sorry."
I turn to go absolutely humiliated, ready to dig my own grave, when the door opens.
And standing there is Sophie Blue, all blonde hair, glossed lips, and perfect smile.
She steps right into my path, grabs my arm, and leans in so close I can smell her perfume.
"Oh, you poor Chess Princess," she whispers, her breath brushing my ear. "Did the professor kick you out?"
My jaw tightens. I yank my arm free and keep walking, refusing to look back.
But as I reach the hall, I hear her soft little laugh, and I don't even need to turn around to know.
She's his new assistant.
And I just made a fool of myself in front of both of them.