6. Orion
6
ORION
S ofia’s eyes widen, soften, and fill with a small amount of respect. It’s an acknowledgement that flows over her features.
I like the change, although she’s equally pretty when she’s scowling at me. More, it’s how she doesn’t simply fawn over me like everyone else does. There’s nothing flirty about the way she’s analyzing my posture, my hands, my face, looking for a lie.
I raise my brow at her scrutiny.
“Just so you know, I am recording this. I will play that back to you if you’re fibbing.” She taps her glasses and needlessly gestures to the cameras.
Biting back a laugh, I know she can see it by the way her eyes narrow just slightly at me. Like she’s trying to be nice in case this is for real.
It is. I know Dickie Hernadez from college.
“I’m not fibbing. My friend is sending me the paperwork as we speak.” No need to say that Dickie is my friend. That might push her over the edge of disbelief.
“Forward it to me the moment you get it.”
This time, the laugh does break free, and it feels good.
Man, I like how in charge she is. How it took her one look at me and she decided I wasn't worth her time.
I want to prove her wrong. The compulsion overrides common sense, like how this is going to bite me in the ass at the end of this. Fuck knows that my past doesn’t help. But there’s something about prodding Sofia that I cannot resist.
My phone pings with an incoming email after twenty minutes of silence. She doesn’t slump a little bit under my gaze. She’s used to being watched.
Her thesis project, which she only mentioned in passing at the club meeting, is a self-documentary. Hence the setup and the glasses. I’m not ashamed by the way she’s going to review this footage to see me unwavering in my attention.
Fuck, she doesn’t break.
Not even at the chime on my phone. I pull up the paperwork and forward it to her without reading it first.
It’s the first time she’s adjusted in her seat, her foot coming up beneath her as she leans forward to examine the documents. Her bare calf flexes as her toe jiggles.
I break myself away to check the message. It’s from Dickie’s personal assistant, the usual information with the date and time they can have us in to visit, a list of rules, and a standard NDA. All of the boiler plate paperwork is there, and a quick review doesn’t show anything out of the ordinary, so I close it up and catch Sofia with her long thumbnail between her teeth.
She’s not chewing on it, maybe to keep herself from grinding her teeth. Maybe it helps her concentrate, although I’m sure she has no problem focusing. She’s been freezing me out with her work for nearly a half hour now.
Another ping on my phone shows a text from Dickie. You get the paperwork?
I laugh quietly to myself, earning a glance from Sofia before she dives back into the contracts.
Yeah. Thanks. You just helped me impress a girl.
And helped me keep the win mysterious. Sofia doesn’t need to know that I interned for Dickie on one of his films. The one that won him an Independent Spirit Award.
It’s a credit that helped me get a job teaching at Berkeley. The same credit saved my career and got me a job here after the scandal should have ruined me.
I do owe you a good wing-manning after how you helped me out.
Nah, it was just my lack of shame that got you and Jenny together.
Jenny obviously liked Dickie and resisted flirting with him because he was the director. It overflowed from her anyway, and I stepped in to easily overly flirt on her behalf. His, too, jokingly saying he should take her out to dinner.
He did.
They were married a year later, and she promised to name her firstborn son after me. Dickie’s glad their first kid was a girl.
I expect to hear all about her when you get here.
Fuck, he’ll get to meet her.
Sighing, I turn off my phone and resume watching Sofia. Her lip is between her teeth, long fingernails tucking hair behind her ear.
I should probably go now that I’ve scored my first point, proven myself a little. But I don’t want to. I could sit here all day and not waste it looking at her.
Dangerous.
For so many reasons.
There’s a soft pink to her cheeks as she reads. Is that because of me? My attention? I have to wonder.
It’s stupid to want to cause this kind of reaction in her. She’s a student. I might not hold her grade in my hand, but as her faculty sponsor… it’s a gray area. I’ve already crossed a clear line once. I shouldn’t dabble in the gray.
But that blush…
Heat stirs inside me.
My hands ache with the want to run them through that hair, watch her gasp as I gather it in my fist…
I suck in a slow breath. Touching her isn’t an option.
No matter how badly I might want to.
The jingling of the front door bell yanks me out of my stupor. Chatter from other patrons surrounds me in noise, a reminder that other eyes are here to witness our silent standoff. I flex my fingers before I pick up my mug and drain the dregs of my cold coffee, eliminating any realistic reason for me to remain here.
So, I stand, finally gaining Sofia’s attention. Her blue eyes are large behind those glasses. I want to dive into them.
“I’ll see you at the next meeting. Unless you need help with anything else.” My voice is too low and teasing. Rein it in.
A couple of blinks have her leaning back in her chair to properly look at me. “No.”
The word is soft.
It draws a smile out of me, which only makes Sofia roll her eyes. “See you later, Professor Knight.”
Ow. Wound me. Most of my students already call me Orion. The formality is a good reminder, though.
I back off, avoiding the cameras and making my way out the door. The moment I’m through, one of my 101 students catches me. Literally by the arm.
Turning smoothly out of her grasp, my hands sink into my pockets and I take a step back. This girl already screams trouble. And her giggles rake warnings down my back. Class three days a week and Film Club are already enough time to endure them.
I can’t be seen fraternizing with her otherwise.
I already know how these infatuations end.