Chapter 6
Alex
Looking back on it now, a few weeks later, I could see how completely reckless I had been.
The memory was vivid, even then. I remembered leaning back against the cool plaster of the hallway wall right after Dr. Carter had stormed off, her heels doing that angry, rhythmic clack-clack-clack down the stone floor.
My jaw was still throbbing from the punch I’d taken on Friday night, but my mind was entirely focused on the small, neatly folded piece of paper I’d just pulled out of my pocket.
The paper had felt so thin, like it might dissolve if I held it too long.
Time to read what Blondie wrote.
I had unfolded it carefully. Her handwriting was neat, small, and slanted slightly—completely different from the blocky, controlled professionalism I would have expected from a teaching assistant. It looked... nervous.
The note simply read:
Come to my office (room 22C, main business building) during your next free period. - B
A slow, delighted smirk had spread across my face. I pocketed the paper and turned to head down the hall, skipping the library entirely.
I reached her office in near record time.
It was an almost unmarked door, tucked away in a quiet, random hallway on the upper floor of the main business building.
There were no classrooms down there, so the area was deserted.
In my head, there was literally no reason for her to have invited me to a location like that other than for a hookup, and there was absolutely no chance I was declining the invitation.
I paused outside, swiftly adjusting my shirt, re-tucking it into my jeans, and running my hands through my hair using the reflection in a nearby display case. I looked significantly better than I had on Friday night, so I took it as a win.
Without further hesitation, I knocked once.
The door opened instantly, as if she had been standing right on the other side, waiting for me.
Billie stepped back quickly, her hand flying up to smooth her already immaculate blonde hair. Her eyes darted nervously up and down the completely empty corridor, confirming we were alone, before she pulled me inside and slammed the door shut with a decisive, final click.
The office was small and neat, dominated by a large desk covered in organised stacks of papers and thick textbooks.
It smelled faintly of expensive paper and that familiar, lovely perfume of hers.
Billie was moving with a sudden, tense energy that completely belied her usually composed exterior in the seminar rooms.
“I didn’t expect you this quickly,” she whispered, her voice tight, clearly anxious about the massive professional boundary she had just obliterated.
I leaned back against the closed door, thoroughly enjoying her flustered state. “You invited me to a deserted hallway during my free period, Blondie. I skipped lunch for this.”
She pursed her lips—that familiar, exasperated expression. “It’s Billie, Alex. And you shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m here because you asked,” I countered, pushing off the door and taking a deliberate step toward her desk. “So, why the secret meeting?”
She closed her eyes briefly, pushing a hand over her face in frustration. “What did Dr. Carter hold you back for?” She walked over to her desk chair but didn't sit, instead gripping the back of it like an anchor in a storm.
I raised an eyebrow, relishing the moment. “Dr. Carter noticed the bruise on my face,” I pointed out, stepping closer still. “And now she wants me to report any future violence directly to her. Looks like she’s taking ownership of my safety. Tough competition, Blondie.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “There is no competition.”
I grinned. “Someone’s confident.”
She let out a stifled groan, her hand tightening visibly on the back of the chair. “You know what I meant.”
I shook my head, still amused. “Seriously, why am I here?”
She hesitated, clearly choosing her words carefully. “I was worried Dr. Carter had noticed something.”
I hummed as I nodded. “And what exactly do you think she had noticed?”
She glared at me. “That—even though I told you to stop—you keep looking at me like you’ve seen me naked.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing out loud. “Technically, I haven’t.”
She opened her mouth to snap a response but then closed it again immediately as a blush rose rapidly in her cheeks. At the time, I realised she wasn't explicitly trying to schedule a hookup, but it was definitely an olive branch toward one—or something else equally complicated.
“Ms. Davies, if you just needed reassurance that Dr. Carter didn’t say anything about me checking out your arse, then—” I closed the distance between us, stepping right up to her desk. “—She didn’t say a word.”
She chewed her lip anxiously and nodded, her eyes flicking momentarily to my hands, which I had now deliberately placed on the edge of her desk, caging her slightly between the chair and the wood.
I leaned in just slightly, putting my weight on my hands, ensuring the proximity forced her to acknowledge the heat in the room. “So, are we done here?” I murmured, my voice low and challenging. “Or did you have another reason for inviting me into your private office, Billie?”
The use of her first name, combined with the impossible closeness, seemed to short-circuit her last shred of professional composure. She sucked in a sharp breath.
“Alex, you have to leave,” she said, the words a strained whisper, but she didn't actually move.
I didn’t leave. Instead, I let my gaze drop, taking in the small, frantic flutter in her throat. I reached across the desk and lightly brushed the side of her face, just below the temple, feeling the sudden warmth of her skin.
“You’re shaking,” I observed, my tone soft, but dominant.
She closed her eyes, and that was the invitation I needed.
Before she could protest, I leaned forward, tilting my head, and pressed my mouth firmly against hers.
It was a bold, deliberate kiss. Her lips were soft, and after a split second of stunned resistance, she melted into it, her grip on the chair back vanishing as she reached up and tangled one hand briefly in the hair at the back of my neck.
I deepened the kiss, enjoying the delicious unprofessionalism of the situation.
Then, just as quickly, I pulled back, leaving her breathless and slightly dizzy.
She stared at me, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted. “You can’t—I’m going to lose my job,” she gasped, her voice barely audible.
I pushed off the desk, a triumphant, easy smirk on my face. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t have invited the student you slept with to your office, Ms. Davies.”
I turned, walked straight to the door, and pulled it open. I glanced back just once. She was still standing there, gripping the chair, watching me go.
“See you in the next seminar, Blondie,” I whispered, closing the door quietly behind me.
I remembered walking down the corridor afterward, heading to the library with a definite spring in my step. I thought she was so cute. I knew if I had pushed her just an inch more, she would have completely caved.
It was a strange feeling back then; I’d never had that before—someone to flirt with, to tease, and who was…
consistently around. It was genuinely fun.
And frankly, her mix of boldness—I mean, who passed notes to beckon me to her office?
—followed by her immediate, furious blushing and nerves that shook her when I actually showed up, was addictive.
I remembered thinking to myself, Damn, if I tried, I’d break the woman.
I laughed to myself as I exited the building into the afternoon sun.
But as I stepped outside, the laughter died in my throat. I spotted Dr. Carter standing a few feet away, talking with another lecturer. She was draped in her tailored trench coat, looking like a movie villain as always—severe, immaculate, and completely untouchable.
I remembered looking at her that day, feeling that strange, electric pull in my chest, and thinking: Now, that woman... that woman would break me.
***
Things were definitely starting to get easier.
I wasn’t as utterly exhausted every morning, and the transition between working the club all weekend and starting uni on Monday was becoming less intense. Thank fuck for that.
Blondie had been a total cutie in the weeks since I’d kissed her in her office. She hadn’t slipped me any more notes, but she’d calmed down around me. It felt like having a secret friend in the faculty. Honestly, the whole thing did wonders for my ego.
That day, Tuesday, I was heading onto campus way earlier than usual. The first major Economics coursework was due Friday, and I’d been working my arse off. I’d never done an academic paper like that before, and I was sweating just imagining I’d done the whole thing wrong.
I didn’t want to fuck it up. And not just for the grade, but for Dr. Carter.
She hadn’t softened at all since the term had started, and the bruise on my face was finally gone, meaning no more random commands to stay behind.
I just wanted to impress her. Lies—she was hot as fuck, that was why.
But there was also just something about her intense, untouchable quality that made me want to try harder.
I pulled up her staff profile on the library computer: Office Hours: 9:00 a.m. until 11:00 a.m. every Tuesday.
I shoved my things into my backpack. If anyone was going to tell me if I was on the right track, it was going to be the woman marking it.
When I reached the main faculty wing, I slowed my pace.
The door to her office was slightly ajar.
I walked past first, spying inside. She was alone behind her large desk, entirely focused on her laptop.
Her dark hair was pulled back tight, and she was wearing a fitted shirt in a deep, threatening crimson. Yep, definitely a villain.