A/N: It's been super long, I know. I have been having a bit of a rough time mentally, so, haven't been writing much. I'll try to get stuff done faster from now on but I can't promise anything. I'm sorry for making you wait but sometimes I just don't feel so great and I can't really force myself to do something I don't feel like doing. I love writing but sometimes I may not just be in the mood for it. Thank you everyone for not pressuring me into writing and always come back to read my stories after I've been inactive for months. Thank you. I hope you enjoy this part for Wrong!

Warning: some slightly strong language?? maybe?? i guess??

Two days after you and Chris had the little talk, you found yourself dreading to go to his class. You woke up but stayed under the comfort of your warm duvet. You reached out for your phone and checked the time, although you knew exactly what time it was. Your alarm had gone off just a few seconds before.

You opened up your messages, typing a quick message to Dave telling him you were 'sick' and can't make it to class. You also politely asked him to send you pictures of the notes so you could copy them when you found the energy to do so. You then placed your phone on your bed and got up, stretching your arms and back before going over to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

As you were brushing your teeth the door to the community bathrooms opened, revealing Carly. "Hey," she said, taking in your tired form. "Are you okay?" She asked, worry flashing through her features.

"I feel a bit ill," you said while leaning your head back, mouth full of toothpaste. "I'm gonna stay in my room for the day."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said and moved over to the sink as well, starting to brush her teeth as well. "Do you want me to bring you soup or something? I need to head to class soon so it'll be microwaved but... still?"

You chuckled softly, spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing your mouth with water. "You don't have to, but thank you."

"Just go to your dorm, I'll bring you some food soon," Carly called out as you started going back to your room.

"Thank you so much, I owe you."

She waved her hand dismissively and you sent her a small smile before going back to your room. You ignored all the weird and worried looks your dorm mates were giving you as they took in your appearance. Your hair was messy, your eyes had deep and dark circles underneath them and you were sure you looked exhausted and drained. It was clear that something was wrong but if anyone were to ask, you'd tell them you were sick. No sense in telling different lies to everyone, that way you'd risk getting caught.

You got to your room and made sure to leave the door unlocked before you plopped down on your bed. You grabbed your phone and saw that Dave had answered you.

"Really? You're going to miss out on professor Evans? Must be bad..."

You rolled your eyes and placed your phone on the mattress again, took your laptop from beside your bed and put on your favorite TV show. You heaved a sigh and fluffed your pillows, placing them against the wall so you could lean against them, getting comfortable to spend the whole day in bed.

A couple of minutes went by before the door opened. "Hey, here," Carly said and handed you a cup of soup. You thanked her quietly and started eating. "If you get lonely, you can call me up. You must be lonely without a roommate," she said as she headed to the door again.

"No, thanks. I'm good."

She nodded, "Alright, well... Hope you feel better soon," she said and exited the room, leaving you alone.

You huffed and went back to watching your favorite show. The screen of your phone lit up and you turned to look down at it, seeing another message from Dave.

"You haven't cursed me out or denied having a crush on professor Evans yet... Everything OK?"

You sighed and typed a quick text back.

"I'm just sick, can't be bothered with your bullshit."

You pressed send and looked at the text, reading it through a few times before sending him another one.

"I'm sorry. I'm tired, OK? I'm sick, just kinda irritated."

"Well, you must be because you're not getting your usual dose of professor Dreamy," he texted back.

You decided to just ignore him and go on and watch the show.

***

While you were watching an emotional episode, you felt your phone vibrate beside you. You opened up the picture Dave had sent you and saw that it was of Chris. Dave had captioned the picture with: "You're missing out on all this phenomenal ass that's happening here."

You couldn't help but laugh at the caption and you looked at the picture more carefully. Chris was standing beside the monitor, showing something that Dave had succeeded to not include in the picture. Chris's weight was shifted on one leg so the other was bent slightly, making his bottom push out just a bit. The pose caused you to sink your teeth in your bottom lip and let out a small sigh.

He had his gaze on the students, thick glasses and neatly groomed beard framing his face. He looked absolutely amazing. The picture made you feel like you really were missing out, as if not seeing him was making you feel guilty for not attending the class knowing he was there right at the moment, teaching and looking amazing, sending charming smiles to the students.

Sometimes he'd go off topic, rambling on and on about the English language and literature, writing and composition because he was so interested in it and so passionate about it. Just listening to him talk about it was almost enough to make you interested in the subject. You were more interested in hearing him talk, hearing his voice rather than the information he was sharing. The way his gaze would just move over every student in the classroom and how his gaze would stay on you just a bit longer than the others. You'd always smile at him with your chin on your hand, looking up at him and just enjoying him talk about anything so passionately. He'd usually realize he had been rambling as his eyes would fixate on you and see the amused look on your face. You'd let out a giggle and he'd shake his head with a smile on his lips before he'd go back to the subject he was supposed to be teaching the students.

You huffed and just set the phone down, refusing to look that picture any longer. You were afraid you'd stare it long enough to take off running and go to the class just to see him.

You couldn't do that. You just couldn't. He had a wife, you had to get over the stupid little crush you had for him.

He had a wife.

You groaned and buried your face in your hands, not understanding how you had gotten in the situation you were in.

You always wanted an English teacher who you liked but not an English teacher you liked. You cursed at yourself for wishing for a teacher you'd actually like. You would have rather had a teacher who was an asshole, a mean old asshole than someone who you couldn't help but drool over while trying to learn.

You cursed under your breath and turned back to your laptop, seeing the episode was playing in the background. You rewind to the part where you had gotten distracted by your phone and continued watching, trying your hardest not to let your mind wander to Chris again.

***

On Friday you finally got out of your dorm and decided to go to a club with a few friends. You were really craving for something that would make you forget about Chris for even one second which seemed to have been impossible over the past few days.

You had missed his English lectures but you had gone to a few of the others. You just didn't feel like seeing him yet. You needed a couple of days to get it through to your head that you should not think of him the way you did. He was your professor. You were his student. It was wrong.

The word wrong didn't help you when you kept glancing at the picture Dave had sent to you. All you could think about was the word wrong while looking over the picture. How wrong it was to look as good as he did, how wrong it was for Dave to send you that picture, knowing you had a crush on the heavenly man in the photograph although you never wanted to admit it, how wrong it was for you to feel about him the way you did... How wrong it was for you to think about all the naughty things you'd do to him or better yet, what he'd do to you.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes before looking into the mirror, feeling proud of the way you looked. The dress you had on hugged your body perfectly, accentuating the parts of your body you wanted to show off. You just wanted to go out with some friends, have a few drinks and just have fun.

You heard a knock on the door and smoothed your dress. You walked over to the door and opened it to see Carly. She whistled as she looked you up and down. "Look at you!" She said, making you laugh. "You clean up good! Can't even tell you were sick a few days ago."

You just sent her a tight lipped smile and put on some heels, grabbing your purse before walking out of the door with her. "Thanks," you said while making sure the door was locked. "Well, let's go then."

***

While you were getting another round of drinks to your friends, you waited for the waiter to fill the tray and sat leaned on the slightly sticky bar counter. You looked around the club, seeing mostly young women on the dance floor, dancing around with their friends or with some guys. As your gaze fell on a couple who were sloppily making out on the dance floor, you frowned and looked away, watching over the people sitting around in booths and at their tables.

Your eyes fell on a group of men, all probably in their thirties just having a good time talking. They were clearly not in the club to hookup with anyone. They weren't even looking around, not acknowledging any of the younger people around them. It seemed like they were having a casual conversation while sipping their beers until one of the men went into what looked like a frustrated rant.

The man's movements were familiar. His whole built was... It was like you had seen the man before. The lights didn't quite reach the group enough for you to see his face clearly, but something about him seemed very familiar.

Suddenly, the lights started flashing brighter than before and the man turned his head enough for you to see who it was. Your breath hitched in your throat and you felt your eyes widen at the sight.

"Chris?" You whispered quietly, narrowing your eyes to really focus all your attention on him, trying to see if it was clearly him. It was.

He had a frown on his face, he was waving his hands up in the air as he poured his heart out. He was clearly frustrated about something but since you were in a club that was filled with loud, booming music, you couldn't really hear what he was talking about. Not that it was any of your business but it really seemed to bother him a lot. You were curious.

You realized you had been staring at him for too long as his gaze fell on you too. You saw the frown on his face disappear and the look was washed away with shock. His didn't seem shocked enough to say it was as if he had seen a ghost but still, he was definitely surprised.

You saw him wave at you and you gave him a small and polite wave back. You turned to the bar and saw that half of the drinks had been set on the tray. You tapped your fingers on the counter impatiently as you waited for the bartender to make all the drinks.

From the corner of your eye, you saw someone standing up from the table you had seen Chris sitting at and your head shot back. You saw Chris saying something to his friends before he lifted his head, eyes finding yours in an instant.

You gasped silently and saw that he was walking straight to you. You started panicking, feeling your skin heat up and heart starting to pound in your chest as you looked at the bartender, hoping he would be fast enough so you'd be able to escape before Chris confronted you.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and you jumped slightly. You turned around and saw Chris right in front of you. "Hey," he greeted.

"Uh, hi," you said shakily. "I'm just waiting for drinks," you said and pointed at the bar over your shoulder.

"I see," Chris said with a small smile. "I didn't see you in class today or the other before."

"Yeah, I... I was feeling a bit sick."

"Yet you're in this club, seemingly drinking your troubles away?" He asked and nodded at the tray being filled up with drinks.

"Oh, no! These are for my friends," you chuckled and looked over at the table they were all sat at, talking about who knows what.

Chris was about to turn around to see where you were looking at but you stopped him.

"Don't," you warned. "You're a professor, it's better they have no clue who you are."

"We're just having a casual discussion," Chris said, sighing.

You raised a brow. "Did you come here for a casual discussion?" You asked while you took in the way he was rolling his watch on his wrist, picking at the chain while his jaw tensed. "Something tells me you didn't."

"How come?"

"You seem nervous. You're rolling your watch on your wrist, picking at it while clenching your teeth. A nervous habit?" You asked, smiling in amusement. "You're practically sweating."

"Wow, very observant, I see. What are you, a detective?" He asked with a laugh.

"An aspiring lawyer." You corrected. "But I guess detective could work, too. You kind of have to be observant, pay attention to the little details."

"Well, if you keep this up, observing your opponents and focusing on every little detail, you'll be a damn good lawyer."

You smiled up at him, shrugging. "Thanks," you said quietly and heard the bartender tell you the drinks were ready. You turned around, grabbed the tray and turned to Chris. "Well, I guess I'll get go—"

"Can we talk?" He asked.

You huffed, setting the tray on the bar. "Chris, listen... I'm trying to forget what happened, okay? I'm sure you are too. What good has talking about it done? We're fine, we don't need to talk."

"If we're fine, then why do you keep avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you."

"Then why did you lie about being sick? Why did you look like you were about to have a panic attack when I approached you? You were practically losing your hair over the fear of simply talking to me."

You eyed him carefully, leaning back against the bar. "You're very observant, too."

He shrugged. He looked down with a small smile, shaking his head as if he was thinking whether or not say what was on his mind. "I actually wanted to go to Law School back in the day. I was supposed to become a lawyer."

"Really?" You asked, surprised. You took a seat on the bar stool and laid your elbow on the counter, propping your chin up with you hand. "What made you change your mind?"

Chris sighed and took a seat next to you. He placed his hands on his knees and he looked at you, shrugging. "I found out English will help me with the career, I realized I found English, the language and literature, fascinating. I even enjoyed writing myself."

"Oh, wow..." You sighed and grabbed your drink from the tray. "Have you written any books?" You asked, hoping he'd say yes so you could read it, get to know his writing style.

He simply shook his head. "I used to work for a publisher, though. I read books, to see if they were good or not, I even pitched in my own ideas but... the bastard took all the credit, made his own book based on my idea."

"What? What an ass!" You exclaimed. "Did you sue him?"

"Sue him? He was my boss, I was working for him. There was no point in suing him. It did piss me off, though." Chris shook his head. "That's when I quit, tried to write stuff on my own and send them to publishers, everyone but the one I used to work for but," he sighed again. "Nobody really agreed to publish them. I tried to revive my career as a writer but then I found out there was an opening for English professor. I had the proper education for it, I decided to do it."

You took in the slightly sad look on his face and your brows furrowed. He laid his hand on the table before calling for the bartender, asking for a drink. You wanted to reach out to him and place your hand on his but refused. "Do you have any regrets?"

"It still feels like I gave up on writing, just settled for teaching it instead. I know what makes a good book but maybe I'm just not capable of actually making one."

"Don't say that," you scolded, placing your hand on his arm. "You can always continue writing, keep sending books to publishers, someone will accept them," you said while looking him straight in the eye.

"I guess... I do enjoy teaching yo—other people, though."

You smiled, pulling your hand away. You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around seeing one of your friends looking at you in annoyance. "You were supposed to bring us our drinks, remember?" She asked and her gaze moved over to Chris. "Oh..." She said, sending you a knowing smirk. "Okay, I get it. Have fun." She winked before taking the tray of drinks and walking away with it.

You mentally sent daggers through the back of her head as you stared at her walking away. You turned to Chris, seeing him looking down at you with a small smile. You shook your head, placing your hand on your forehead. "I'm sorry about that," you apologized. "She just sees a hot guy who I'm talking to and she jumps into conclusions, I—"

"Hot?" He asked, amused.

"What?" You asked, trying to seem as calm as possible, trying to make it seem like you had no shame. You had just called your professor hot right to his face. Thanks to being slightly intoxicated, it worked pretty well. "Should I use another word? Attractive? Appealing? Beguiling?"

Chris laughed. "No, I was just not expecting you to call me 'hot'," he said while making air quotes with his fingers.

You raised a brow while taking a sip of your drink. "You're kidding, right?" Chris only shook his head and you had to place your drink down, afraid you might drop it. "Have you seen yourself?" You asked, earning a laugh from him as a blush crept on his face and neck. You placed your hand on his arm again, squeezing his bicep lightly. "You're basically bulging out of your clothes, you must live at the gym! And look at that—" you stopped as you looked up at his face, seeing him stare down at you with a gentle gaze. "That face..." You sighed, moving your hand to rest on his bearded jaw. "So perfectly framed by this—" You stopped once again but because you realized where your hand was. You were quick to pull away and advert your gaze to the ground, feeling embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

You felt Chris's hand on your shoulder and looked at him again, seeing his gaze dropping down to your lips. He lifted his hand to your cheek and ran his thumb across your bottom lip, pulling it away from between your teeth. Your breath hitched in your throat as you saw his blue eyes skim up and down your body. His jaw tensed as he clenched his teeth, knowing he should stop what he was doing before it was too late.

"Chris, what—"

He shushed you, placing his thumb back over your lips. He shook his head as he looked into your eyes, seeing the pleading look in them. You wanted him to make a move, to lean in and kiss you. You knew it was wrong but...

Wrong. That damn word had repeated itself in your mind over the past few days but as you two were there, in the bar, staring at each other, feeling the heat radiate from each other's bodies... It suddenly didn't feel so wrong anymore. It felt right.

You inhaled deeply, trying to desperately calm yourself, feeling your heart starting to beat faster in your chest. As you breathed in, his cologne filled your senses. The smell was intoxicating you more than any amount of alcohol could. All you wanted to do was to take his head in your hands and pull his face to yours so you could connect your lips with his. You didn't, though.

But he did.