*note: this is my first shot at writing so please go easy on the comments, hope you like the first glimpse of Kathy and Brandon's story. Enjoy!*
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"Miss Grey!"
My head jerked up from the notebook I was doodling in, writing my name over and over in curvy fonts.
A jolt ran through me and my eyes darted around. Crap. The whole class was staring at me. Then my gaze landed on the source of the interruption. Stormy grey-ish blue eyes stared back at me. Fuck, looks like I am the interruption. I gulped. Dazzled and terrified at once.
"Well?" He prompted, raising a thick, perfectly arched brow, his deep voice loud and clear and more than a little arrogant.
I licked my dry lips and tried to form a coherent sentence.
"I'm sorry, what..what was the question?" I stammered softly.
Could I sound more thick? It was those eyes, I couldn't even look into them directly, it was like they could see right through me.
He leaned back on his desk gracefully, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Damn, the man was a fine site. With short, almost black hair, piercing eyes and a lean, muscular body like that. I could just spread him on a cracker.
"Am I boring you, Miss Grey?" He narrowed his eyes. His hard jaw settled.
Shit.
I blinked and tried to shift focus from his body to his pissed off gaze.
"No. Of-of course not. I'm just, uh.." I trailed off, heat spreading over my cheeks. Damn it. I glanced around.
I've never been afraid of my professors before, always had a good rapport with them. Even the grumpy ones. So it was uncharacteristic of me to balk in front of a classroom full of people for being picked on by a teacher. Well, a hot, young, intimidating, distractingly sexy...did I mention hot?
All the girls sitting in the room were practically drooling over their desks, especially Diana Simons, the busty brunette sitting at the front, looking like she wanted to eat him alive. Even the guys seemed almost captivated by him. I couldn't blame them, I was trying very hard not to stare too openly, hence the doodling. And he had to pick on me. Great.
I looked back up at him, trying not to look away from his powerful gaze, "I'm sorry, Professor. I'll pay attention now."
My voice was steadier than my head, which was in a turmoil.
He held my gaze for a few more seconds, eyes stormy but unreadable from where I was sitting at the back of the room, before he turned around and continued his speech which had something to do with modern architecture and the second world war. I think.
If someone told me a few months ago that Brandon Chase was teaching architecture at Columbia, I would have laughed. Even though its just one semester-- whatever's left of it, that is-- which includes four seminars, Brandon Chase is not the kind of person you'd find teaching. And he was doing a pretty good job too. His easy grace and powerful presence capturing everyone's attention. Except mine, apparently.
