Chapter 29 Ethan
ETHAN
Iglance around the room taking in all the modern decor; it’s by far the nicest classroom I’ve ever been in.
It’s already full with students, only a few empty seats remain.
Stadium style seating that ascends up toward the back of the room and overlooks the center.
Everyone is whispering amongst themselves in their groups because apparently our teacher is some hotshot billionaire with a genius IQ who created some AI code that revolutionized computer technology as we know it.
At least, that was the explanation I overheard someone saying on the way to class.
I don’t really care who it is. I’m not exactly here by choice.
If I can’t have the career I always wanted, I might as well do whatever is financially more stable, regardless of how miserable I am doing it.
Even though I’m already working for my father, he demands the MBA title on my business card because, ‘it looks better to clients’ if I have it.
Reaching in my bag, I pull out a notebook and a pen. I highly doubt we’ll have much of anything except intros and orientation but at least I can doodle a bit before it starts. Glancing down at the pen, inscribed on the side is Bonjour House.
The words seep into my vision and the memories of walking in and out of the hostel are so vivid I can smell the lavender scent that lingered in the lobby.
The way Hannah smiled the moment we saw it because it was the coziest hostel we checked into.
The naked man dressed in nothing but a towel, humming to himself like he didn’t have a care in the world.
I can still see the reflection of light off the droplets of water that cascaded down his back. The way his muscles flexed when he moved. I close my eyes and can still see his face staring up at me when he took my hard cock to the back of his throat.
A chair screeches next to me, ripping my thoughts back to the stale room. I have so many regrets about how we left, but I revert back to what I heard at the hostel and begin to feel so much rage for what he did.
I just hate more than anything that I can’t stop thinking about him.
Hannah and I haven’t even talked about it, it’s like we pretend it never happened because whatever did happen was deeper than we ever expected.
I know it was for her, even though she probably doesn’t want to admit it to me.
I think she’s afraid of hurting me or that I would be jealous of her feelings for him.
Some days I want to tell her I don’t have an ounce of jealousy. In fact, there was something about watching him with her, not just sexually but when they would interact, flirt, and talk to each other. There was something that we all brought that just made it feel…right.
I shake my head because it doesn’t matter. It’ll never be anything more for us. Nothing about having some side piece in our relationship makes any sense. Plus, if my dad found out…that would be bad. Really bad.
So, it’s a good thing it ended the way it did.
I just need to find a way to erase the flood of flashbacks.
They’re a special kind of torture I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
I hate how he drew out all my fantasies, everything I’ve been suppressing for so long, so easily.
It’s like he knew everything I wanted and pulled it from me effortlessly.
The glass door to the classroom opens and my breath gets trapped in my throat in the form of an animalistic choking sound. Immediately I shrink down into my seat as the man I’ve thought about every day for the last month strides across the room.
Am I fucking hallucinating?
The classroom goes quiet, a few shushes and whispers echo through the room as he makes his way further into the class.
His hair is shorter, clean cut. He’s dressed in navy slacks and a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. Nothing like the outfits he wore in Paris; in fact, I wouldn’t recognize him if not for that goddamn signature smile and those bright blue eyes like beacons.
He doesn’t climb up the stairs and pick a seat. No, he fucking strides to the center of the classroom, stopping behind the teachers desk, placing his leather bag on top of it, like he’s done this a million times before.
I slide further down my seat as he peers up, his eyes skimming the entire room before he grants everyone that stupid smile and announces, “Good Morning class, I’m Dane Campbell, your Professor of Business Development and Analytics this semester.”