Authors Note*
I know a lot of you are saying that things escalated too quickly in this chapter, but I just wanna remind everyone that I wrote this ten years ago and it's the first draft so, and does not represent my writing now, but the story gets better once you're past a few more chaps and I assure you that you will not be disappointed.

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Chapter 8

The love starved bitch that I was, I spent most of my leisure time stalking the professor's personal life. I fired up my laptop, signed into Facebook and realized he'd accepted my friend invite. A few clicks later, I'd opened his picture albums. I checked out each, one at a time. Boring smoke holes into his pictures and I even saved a few hot shots, one of which was going to be my wallpaper for the week. It was cute puppies in basket and kittens in tubs, but now it was going to be Rowan Masters.

He smiled back at me from the picture, his arm around an ex-Carmel student. A pretty girl had a firm grip around his waist, (I could feel those red painted nails dig deep in his shirt). I wanted to get a print of that picture, tear it in half and mark red cross marks over her face and watch as it burned to ashes with a loud melodramatic evil laugh. I snapped the device shut feeling uneasy for such a crappy reason. Jealousy was such a crazy bitch.

As if on auto-pilot, I grabbed my phone, threw a tank top on and made my way out of the dorms. My legs were automatically programmed into walking straight towards the professor's apartment. I stepped into the elevator; the lift man eyed me suspiciously when I told him where I was headed.

I rang the doorbell once and twice until the door opened. Rowan smiled sheepishly at me as he led me in.

There was no Minnie in view; I only assumed she was in some other room.

"To what do I owe this honor?" he asked me.

"I had a few problems with the new unit you started teaching earlier today." I was surprised how I lied without missing a beat.

He smiled at me, all too knowingly. "And you did not think it was necessary to carry your book?"

Good point.

"Why? I can't come to see you if it has nothing to do with economics?" I folded my hands across my chest. I was a born miserable when it came to hiding disappointment

"Of course you can." He said.

"May I sit?" I taunted him as I settled on the couch.

"You may." Rowan sank towards the other end of the couch. "So tell me Alana, how can I help you?"

"Do you do it often?"

He frowned at me, "do... what often?"

"You know, bat your eyes at a student, take her out on a date, suck face in your office and pretend it never happened?" I had to pat my back later for the sheer boldness or pull that collar out.

He gave out a soft ringing laughter, showing off an impressive set of white teeth that told me he was regular to the dentist. He started saying something when I cut him off, "let me guess, 'that definitely wasn't my intention.' Well—screw that!"

I made a very good imitation of his voice which had him double over with laughter.

"What do you want me to say, Alana? It's not like I don't know where you're getting at. This wasn't supposed to happen. When I first met you, I wasn't thinking rationally, now I am. No matter how much we like each other, the mere fact of us being tangled in a student—teacher relationship remains." A pause later he continued, "Don't get me wrong, I want us together so bad, since the time you walked right into me that first day of your university. It's a grave..grave risk. We might end up ruining my reputation along with your future and frankly speaking, I don't give a damn about my reputation. There's nothing to lose when you've already lost so much. It's you, I'm concerned for. I don't want that for you. I don't want you to regret this later."

"I won't." I inched closer to his side, and let my fingers find his. Our hands touched, palm to palm, fingers automatically entwining.

"How are you so sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Really?"

"Yes. Really."

He turned in the couch to face me. He laced his arms around my waist, and lifted me into his lap to directly face him. My thighs stranded his waist, his fingers slid beneath my tank top as he caressed the skin slowly. I realized he was waiting for me to take the lead so I did. I leaned into his sweet masculine scent as I captured his mouth into mine, savoring and deepening the kiss. I could hear my heartbeat more clearly, like it was the only thing that felt alive in this room. He pulled me even closer, suckling my lower lip, and then gently licking the top one, sending a fire igniting through me.

I pulled back for an intake of breath. I whispered. "I love you."

His eyes went wide. I had rendered him speechless. I had to literally strain my ear to hear his next words, "Say my name."

"Rowan."

"No, say you love me and my name." He reminded me of the boy pleading for a blue balloon.

"I love you Rowan."

"Do you want me?" he asked as if the thought of me not wanting him would cause him pain.

"More than anything." I answered.

Something fierce blazed in those pools of mocha eyes, when he slammed into me, I had to grab for his shirt to save my ass from free falling to the floor. When he'd thoroughly re-searched every contours of my mouth, and was about to take it to the next level, the damn phone decided to ring.

He sighed as he reached for his i-phone. When he registered the number, his jaw tightened. He carefully rolled me back to sit on the couch. I had a feeling the particular phone call was about to blow a gasket.

"What do you want?" his voice dripped malice.

I couldn't exactly hear what was going on towards the other end.

"Did I fail to be clear when I said DON'T FUCKING CALL ME!"

I almost flinched at the sudden high pitch of his voice which also came with extra sugar coating of string of curses. He stood up as he rubbed his temple.

"YOU STAY AWAY FROM HER, UNDERSTAND?" he snarled, letting the phone slip out and hit the rug below.

He ran his fingers through his hair. Damn the bells. A school bell first and now a phone bell? These bells are becoming my mortal enemies. Rowan began pacing the room, I dwelled on whether I should ask him, better yet, talk to him about it because I would be fooling myself if I said I wasn't the least bit scared.

He was breathing heavy, like he'd run tracks and climbed the Mount Everest together.

I found my voice after a few seconds, "your ex-girlfriend again?"

"Yes." He said almost retired, dismissing me from making further inquires.

I took the hint he placed on my plate, this was personal matter and maybe it was best for me to make a beeline towards the door. So I grabbed my bag, ready to leave.

"Wait." He called out.

I stopped.

"My sister's arriving from an afternoon flight from Hamburg tomorrow, I'm supposed to meet her at the airport and we have plans for lunch." It gave me a feeling he was either trying to lighten the mood or cover up his tracks, "I'd love for you to join us."

The thought of meeting his sister was exciting yet unnerving.

I took a minute to reply, "Sounds great."

"Good." He said, "I'll text you later about the time I'll meet you."

                                                                   ****

I flicked on my ray-bans, scanning the whereabouts. Most of the student body had disappeared, while the staff still lingered around the campus, including my professor. A bus came to a halt and out stepped one of the girls from my English class, she waved at me as she made her way inside the gates and that's when Chez walked out carrying an over-sized canvas, a huge blot of red paint on his shirt, a spot of blue over the side of his face.

"Hey."

Crap. Didn't he find a better timing to leave the campus?

"What's up?" I asked.

"I'm gonna be working on this painting from today, I'll be done in a week if I concentrate."

"Have you started already?" I was too eager to stir the conversation anywhere as long as he didn't decide to ask me to walk with him.  "What are you planning on drawing?"

He grinned, "I'm thinking still life. Human portrait mostly, just not finding the right model though."

"Well, how about I model for your painting?" I faked a position, jutting my butt out, my hands like tea pot—he laughed so loud, the dog from across the street started to bark.

"Trust me baby, you don't want to."

I pouted, "Not good enough. Am I?"

    "I'll definitely paint you, but not this one." he gave me his 'it's a secret' smile.

Chez was a dedicated artist. He'd always enjoyed painting landscapes, beaches and everything else nature could offer. His father never approved much of it, and kept hounding him to change his mind, to choose the medical or the engineering route, but Chez was determined to become an artist. His mother had been his top cheerleaders, who urged him to live his dream and go to France where he had dreamed of pursuing his career in art. Chez was being considerate when he said he wanted to stay back and complete his bachelors. Poor guy didn't want to trouble his parents for money. I remembered offering him help (Since my parents didn't give a shit about how I used my money) though he'd declined politely, what with the big man pride larger than his biceps. I recalled the last time his mother had called my house. She was frantic by Chez's sudden disappearance for the late evening.

"Last time I checked, he drew a rough outline of a fountain." I told her.

"So where do you think he is? He isn't answering the phone." She sounded dead worried.

"I think I might know just the place."

I knew a park that was nearby to his house, so his mother and I walked all the way and found him standing farther from the fountain, stroking away gently with Persian blues, unaware of the damn time or the fact that his family existed. I wanted to fucking shove him in the back but didn't do so. I knew that'd screw up a masterpiece. He was probably lost in it for days.

"What are you laughing at?" He snapped me back from memory lane.

"Nothing."

He gave me an once-over. Uh-Oh. I smelt deep shit.

"Would you mind very much if I asked you where you were going all dolled up?"

I cleared my throat, buying some more time to cook up a lie. "Well, I just wanted to stop by this new clothing store that's opened recently, you know, the one around the corner." It still didn't explain why I was dressed the way I was.

Lie. The Lie snake hissed in my ear.

"Right." He narrowed his eyes at me, "I would've loved to join you. Should I drop this off at the dorm and.."

"No. You don't want to do this. I have some exclusive girl stuff to buy..."

He raised his hand, palm up, "Thanks. Guess I'll save myself from going through all that torture, but if you need to be picked from the mall, ring me."

"Sure."

He spun to leave, stopped dead in the tracks and turned to face me, "you're not lying to me, right?"

The lie dog wanted to bite me in the ass, "why would I do that, Chez?"

"I'm all ears if there's anything you want to talk to me about." He pointed one of the long brushes at me, as he back walked in a slow motion which would have a ton of girls in our previous university wishing they were his footpath.

"Yeah." I said.

"Uh..have you seen Nina anywhere?"

That had my full attention. Since when did the playboy of the millennium Chez Simmons ever ask for a girl? It was always the other way round

"Nina doesn't have classes today." I smirked at me, "Is that the model you were looking for?"

He chuckled, "You're a bitch. I'll call you later, sweetness."

Chez walked towards the dorms as I threw a glance at my wrist watch. It was late enough to call it noon.

"Waiting for someone?"

I suppressed a heart attack as I glanced into the pools of mocha staring at me from the rolled down window of the Land cruiser.

I smiled. "You scared me."

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." Rowan chuckled, "Come on. Hop in."

I took over the passenger side of the car and found Minnie settled in the backseat. "Hi, Minnie!"

She showed off her adorable two toothed smile. She seemed busy with skimming pages of a Disney picture book. "Hi."

Rowan pointed at me, "seat belt."

"Oh." I clicked the seat belt into place.

He changed gears from neutral to drive, and revived the car back on the road smoothly.

"Did you wait too long?" he picked up a coffee thermos from the console and offered it to me, "Coffee?"

"Thanks." I could never say no to coffee. His fingers brushed mine so lightly, even the slightest physical contact fluttered butterflies deep inside me. I took a sip from it. The liquid left a burn, leaving a bitter sweet taste with a burning sensation. "No, just a few minutes."

He saw right through me, "My coffee making skills suck ass, right?"

They sure did.

"It doesn't, trust me." I know I was grinning. I was not a good liar.

He grinned back, "I can't make it right, no matter how hard I try."

Coffee bad or not, it didn't stop him from reaching for the other console and sipping onto his thermos.

"I like a lot of milk in my coffee is all." I said, "Besides, even though your coffee making skills suck, you're a great gourmet cook, no doubt."

His eyebrows shot up, in what I assumed had to be amusement "Was that supposed to make me feel better? You just insulted and complimented me in a single line. That's a rare talent, Alana, I must say."

I laughed, "Well, sir, my cooking isn't even half as good as your coffee. Does that feel any better?"

He started at my face for a nano second before turning his head back on the road, "much better."

Twenty minutes, we were still driving and demon professor with a good heart still smiling.

"What?" I asked him.

"You don't have to drink it."

"But, I want to."

"Its poison, I know it. Maybe worse."

"I'll still drink it."

"Just so you know, in case your persistence has anything to do with trying to impress me, well, you aren't earning any extra grades for doing that." He winked. "At your own risk."

"What do I have to do to become the teacher's pet?"

"Nothing. I've already taken you under my wing."

"I really appreciate the gesture." I curled and uncurled a lock of hair as I continued, "It didn't matter how bad the coffee tasted. All that matters is that you made it especially for me..

Rowan took his eyes off the road for a second to give me a sidelong glance; he was blushing like a school boy. His arm curled around mine; I could feel the cool ring in his forefinger press against my knuckles. He squeezed his hand and he laced his fingers through mine, forcing me to wallow up whatever that had crossed my mind. He let my hand remain beneath his warm hold until he pulled into the Airport parking lot. He instructed me to wait in the car while he paid for the parking. A minute later, we were making our way towards the arrivals.

Minnie insisted on walking which forced us to walk extra slow. The old grandpa who'd bent lower with his walking stick had walked faster and through the sliding doors.

Rowan spared me a glance, taking my hand in his which felt like a soothing balm to my discomfort. He'd only filled me in on a few details regarding his sister. Apparently, her flight was landing from Hamburg. I expected a polished, wealthy and confident woman. Snobby, nosy, bossy bitch if you were running out of more adjectives.

The flight schedule board flipped to arrived. I felt nervous by every passing minute. A group of tired passengers rushed through the sliding doors, dragging their heavy looking baggage along with them. Some people stopped to look for their family members while others searched for banners. Rowan stepped closer to the railing, leaning slightly inward. When most of the passenger body had cleared, a group of attractive looking crew walked through the doors carrying their baggage and their easy grace which did not go unnoticed. A middle aged tall man (who reminded me so much of George Clooney,) accompanied by a young co-pilot and five other flight attendants followed their suit.

A tall burgundy dye haired waved at Rowan frantically, her excitement almost brightened the entire place like a light bulb. She dragged her red tote, adjoined to the red suitcase as she walked towards us, her high killer heel pumps clanked.

She wrapped Rowan in a hug, smiling from ear to ear. "Good to see you, brother."

I started to feel awkward with my pathetic height. Damn, she was tall. She beamed at me, offering me her hand. "Claire."

"Hi." I reciprocated her contagious smile.

We shook hands, "so good to see you, Alana."

Claire's eyes traveled to Minnie, "Baby!" then she pointed out something else.  "You guys look like the happy young family."

Rowan rolled his eyes, and got hold of my hand again.

"So...where are we headed?" Claire asked.

Rowan grabbed her baggage, "you tell us."

Claire stretched out her fingers, "I'll drive."

Rowan smiled, he'd seen this coming. He rummaged his denim pocket and tossed the keys towards her. "Here you go."