Seducing Professor Coyle (8 page)

He went through Benjamin’s test and graded it, then logged onto the college intranet and found his student email address. He cracked his knuckles, then typed out a quick, formal message.

Benjamin,

I received your test and the accompanying essay, and will be adjusting your incomplete status. The test will be factored into your final grade as a B minus, so you shouldn’t need to worry about failing the class. If you want the graded test back, see me
—

He stopped, and deleted the last sentence. He didn’t want any further personal interactions with Benjamin LeClair. The student was dangerous. If not because he had some nefarious plan to scandalize Peter, he was dangerous in another way. Despite everything, he couldn’t deny he was still terribly and inappropriately attracted to the young man. Taking a deep breath, he retyped the last sentence.

I will leave your graded test in your student mailbox when I get a chance.

- Dr. Coyle

He hit send. There. It was finished. He was done with Benjamin LeClair. He would stop thinking about him. And he would go out of his way not to see him again. It was easy enough to ignore the students during class. He now needed only to avoid the young man for the rest of the semester, which was a matter of weeks.

He allowed himself to feel relief. The knot that had churned in his stomach since Thorn’s visit Saturday morning finally loosened. Everything was going to be all right. As long as Benjamin LeClair stayed the hell away from him.

****

The dean’s house sat up on a hill overlooking the campus, with a sloping back lawn, now lined with food tables. Peter leaned against the patio bar listening to Tim Vale, his best writing student, try to convince Greg Bergeron, a math professor, that algebra was useless.

The sun was setting, the backyard aglow with amber as the sky darkened to dusk. Laughter and chatter filled the air, and all the guests seemed to be enjoying themselves. Peter on the other hand had had enough of the school and his colleagues for one day, and party or not, desperately wanted to go home and enjoy his new house. But he had to put in at least another half hour lest it be considered an insult to Dean Yarboro, who loitered by the food table, a bit of onion dip clinging to his beard as he entertained a group of students with some story or other. The students looked rapt, but Peter suspected it was feigned. They were the top of their class, each of them, and knew which old ass to kiss in case they needed a recommendation in the future.

Bored, he ordered a second glass of wine from the bartender, then made his way toward the goldfish pond, spotting Karen Sullivan, another literary teacher who he liked. He was nearly past the food tables when he stopped short, just as Benjamin LeClair, approaching from the opposite direction, did the same. They nearly bumped into each other.

Benjamin took a step back, looking as frightened as Peter felt. Peter couldn’t seem to find his voice. Benjamin let out a nervous chuckle, then cleared his throat. “Dr. Coyle,” he said. “Um, hi.”

“What are you doing here?” The words left Peter’s mouth before he could think about them, and came out harsh and accusatory. His heart pounded, a sweat breaking out on the back of his neck.

Benjamin looked amazing in beige slacks and a peach cotton shirt that showed off his athletic physique. He appeared stunned by Peter’s words. “I...ah...”

“Answer me,” Peter said. “
What
are you doing here?”

“I’m a guest,” he said.

Peter tried to slow his heartbeat, but the shock of seeing Benjamin had thrown him, he couldn’t think straight.
Here he is again
, his mind taunted.
What a coincidence
. “Have you been following me?”

Benjamin’s jaw dropped. He took a step back. “What? No!”

At that moment, Tammy Albert, head of Information Sciences stepped up and wrapped an arm around Peter. “Dr. Coyle, nice to see someone else under the age of ninety. Maybe this party won’t be so boring after all. You’ve met Ben LeClair?”

Peter struggled to speak, his eyes locked onto Benjamin’s as the realization hit. He wanted to shoot himself. Benjamin
was
here as a guest. And Peter had just made a fool of himself.

“We’ve met,” Benjamin said, coming to his rescue, a brilliant smile on his handsome face. “I’ve got Dr. Coyle for Interpreting Literature this semester.”

“Yes,” Peter said, clearing his throat. “I know Benjamin.”

His green eyes met Peter’s. “Please. Call me Ben.”

“Great!” Tammy said. “Let’s all go do a shot of Dean Yarboro’s liquor.”

Peter blinked at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What? He’s of legal age, aren’t you, Ben?”

Ben’s gaze flicked to Tammy, then back to Peter. He wrung his hands, seeming nervous, and Peter couldn’t blame him after the exchange they’d just had. “I’m twenty-three,” he said. “I can do a shot.”

Tammy moved over beside Ben, linking her arm through his. “Peter, did Ben tell you he’s my best student? He’s kind of a genius, but don’t tell him that. It’ll go to his head, and he’s too pretty as it is, don’t you think?”

Peter swallowed hard, not daring to meet the boy’s eyes.

“Careful, Dr. Albert,” Ben said, his tone teasing. “I’ll sue you for sexual harassment.”

“Well you’d better wait until I retire so I have some money to give you,” she said. “Right, Peter?”

Peter forced a chuckle. “Right.”

“How ’bout that shot?” Ben said. He glanced at Peter. “I know
I
could use it.”

Tammy fanned her arm toward the bar. “After you, Peter.”

“I’ll be with you in a minute, I need to talk to someone,” Peter said. He walked away before they could protest, heading down to the goldfish pond to catch his breath.
Stupid stupid stupid
. He’d been so shocked to see the student, his first thought was that he was there for
him
. Following him. Stalking him.

But Benjamin wasn’t a stalker. He was invited by one of the department heads. He was a good student, apparently, with no bad intent. And Peter was humiliated anew. He supposed he’d have to apologize for his reaction, but he couldn’t bear it right now. And he certainly didn’t want to drink with the kid. Clearly he’d let his paranoia get the best of him. It wasn’t like him to be so out of control, and he didn’t trust himself to be around Benjamin tonight, especially after that embarrassing display.

He found his friend Karen by the pond. Karen was young, and this was her first year teaching college. As much as she tried to look older during the school day, wearing her curly red hair tucked up in a librarian bun, her efforts failed somewhat. Her freckled face and turned up nose made it hard to differentiate her from a student at the moment, in a floral sundress, shoulder length curls blowing free. “Hey Karen,” he said. “How’s your folklore class going?”

Karen rolled her eyes. “My students are bored to tears. One of them actually fell asleep in class last week. I’m starting to think I suck as a teacher.”

Peter laughed and patted her shoulder. “It gets easier.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“You stop caring if they fall asleep,” he said.

Karen laughed, her fair cheeks flushing. “Awesome, Peter. You’re quite the mentor.”

As they continued to make small talk, Peter stole glances at the patio, where Tammy and Benjamin were in engaged in conversation with a group of party guests. The tan slacks hugged Benjamin’s ass alluringly, shirt hanging just right on his broad shoulders. He looked coiffed and mature in the outfit, and there was no denying that Benjamin was a beautiful young man.
A man, not a boy
. Though he couldn’t think of him as such, wouldn’t. He was a boy, a student.

He forced himself to look away, but soon found his gaze drifting back. Ben carried himself well, a confident posture, and again Peter thought that he seemed older than his twenty-three years, more seasoned. The handsome young man conversed with ease as students and faculty alike approached him, moths to his magnetic flame. When Ben glanced down and caught his eye, Peter looked quickly away, focusing on the pond as he pretended to listen to Karen.

“You seem distracted, Peter,” she said. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry. Just really tired. I think I might sneak out.” It had gotten dark, and the path leading down through the woods to the main campus would provide him with a candid escape.

“I understand. I’ll cover for you. See you tomorrow.”

He smiled at her. “Thanks, Karen. See you tomorrow.”

Without risking another glance toward the patio, he moved gingerly down to the woods and made his way along the path. New moonlight lit the pine needles that crunched beneath his shoes, and soon the sounds of the party grew distant, replaced by the hoot of an owl and symphonic chorus of crickets.

He’d nearly completed the mile trek down to the campus parking lot when he heard footfalls approaching behind him, huffing breath as someone trampled up the path.

Peter stopped, staring stunned at the tall figure. “Benjamin?”

The boy faced him, catching his breath, his golden skin flushed from running. “Dr. Coyle,” he said. “What the hell? I haven’t been following you. Why did you say that?”

Peter continued walking, Benjamin keeping time by his side. “I apologize,” he said. “I mistook you for someone else.”

“No, you didn’t. You knew exactly who I was.”

Peter stopped, and Benjamin did the same, those green eyes glimmering in the darkness. “I’m sorry, Ben,” he said. “I would have apologized right away had we not been interrupted. Go on back to the party.”

He started walking again, and again, Benjamin followed. “We need to talk, Dr. Coyle.”

Peter glanced at him. “I sent you an email. I’ve adjusted your grade. We can discuss it tomorrow if you’re not satisfied.”

“I’m not talking about my grade. I got your email, and I’m fine with that. We need to talk about something else.”

Peter continued on, spying the clearing at the end of the path, desperate to get to his car and be off, away from this awkwardness, away from Benjamin LeClair. “Whatever it is, we can discuss it during school hours. I’m very tired—”

“Stop!”

Benjamin grabbed his arm, stopping his retreat. His hand was warm on Peter’s arm, and goose bumps rose on his flesh.

Looking down, the boy released his arm, but shocked him by taking a step closer, too close for comfort. They faced each other under the trees, and Peter struggled to slow his racing heart. “All right,” Peter said, keeping his tone level, formal, though it was a struggle. His throat constricted, his body heated with the closeness of their proximity, the intensity of the boy’s expression. “What is it you want, Benjamin?”

Benjamin looked at the ground, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He took a deep breath, then met Peter’s eyes again. “You
did
think I was following you. Didn’t you?”

Peter swallowed. “I was mistaken.”

Benjamin held his gaze, a slight frown arrowed between his brows. He brushed his sandy hair back from his forehead, and looked skyward, sighing. “I went to Thorn’s party with a friend. I saw you there.” He met Peter’s eyes again. “But I would never intentionally invade your privacy, and I’d never tell anyone.”

Peter’s heart felt as though it was about to come out his throat. Damn it, why couldn’t the kid have just let it go. Why did he have to mention it, create this unbearable awkwardness?

“But I have
not
been following you, Dr. Coyle. We just happened to be at the same place. At the same time.”

Peter slowed his breathing, urging himself to get control. “Are you finished?”

Benjamin frowned at him, then shrugged. “I guess.”

Peter forced a smile. “Good then.”

He moved around him, walking quickly down the path.

“Hey, wait!”

Peter kept moving, ignoring him.

“Dr. Coyle, hang on. Peter, stop!”

He froze at the use of his first name, and slowly turned back. “What is it you
want
, Ben?” he asked sharply.

“I want you to have a drink with me.”

Peter blinked through the darkness at him, this golden creature who frightened him as much as fascinated him. “I’m quite done with the party. I told you, I’m tired. I’m sorry for what I said to you, it’s done, forget about it.”

The boy moved slowly toward him, his green eyes heated with something that didn’t look like anger this time. Peter’s groin began to throb, and he struggled to calm his body as Benjamin stepped closer. “I’m done with the party too,” he said softly. “Come back to my place for a drink, where we can talk.”

Peter let out a shocked chuckle. “I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“Who cares?” He moved closer until they were nearly touching. His hand grazed Peter’s fingers, and he flinched.

“I care.” He struggled to control his breathing. “You’re a student.”

“Is that the only reason?” he whispered, his hand brushing Peter’s again. “I’ll be graduated in three weeks. Just a technicality really.”

Peter’s breath grew shallow, inhaling the spicy scent of the boy’s cologne. “Benjamin,” he said in his best, authoritative professor voice. “You are
far
too young for me.”

Ben’s hand clasped his. Peter tried to pull it back, but he squeezed tight. “We both know
that’s
not true.”

Wriggling his hand loose, Peter moved back, away from him. “What does that mean?”

“I saw you in the pool. With that
kid
. I don’t think my age is the problem.”

Peter’s jaw tightened. “And I suppose you aim to use that against me somehow. I thought you didn’t want to invade my
privacy
.”

Ben’s face scrunched in a grimace. “What?” He placed his hands on his head, turning away. He kept his back to Peter, arms curved at his sides as he took several deep breaths. Finally, he turned to face him. “You have got me
all
wrong.”

“Do I? Then why are you bringing this up? My private life?”

He moved close again, and Peter stepped back. “Peter.”