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2026-06-10 23:07:29Elena Carson
I don’t wait for him to say anything else before I walk out of his office. The door clicks shut behind me, and I keep walking, fast and angry. My heart is hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat. My cheeks are burning too and my hands won’t stop shaking. I just need to get the fuck away from him. Who the hell does he think he is? Drop his class? Just like that? No explanation, no real reason, just “I don’t need complications” like I’m some kind of problem he can erase with a few cold words. I shove open the main doors of the building and step outside, the fresh air hitting my face. It doesn’t help. My mind is spiraling. I need this class. It’s extra credits, and every other elective I wanted is already closed for registration. If I drop Psychology now, I’ll fall behind. It’ll mess up my entire schedule and delay graduation. I can’t afford that. Not after everything I’ve worked for. And the worst part? He knows it. Or at least he should. He’s supposed to be this brilliant professor, right? So why is he acting like my presence alone is a complication he can’t handle? I’m so lost in my head that I don’t see Josh until I almost crash into him. “Whoa…” He steadies me with a light touch on my arm, blue eyes wide with surprise before they crinkle in amusement. “Either you’re having a terrible morning… or I’ve missed a memo about emotional disasters being contagious.” I pull back, flustered. “I’m fine.” Josh Bennett, final-year performance arts major who always looks like he’s halfway through a joke. Josh raises an eyebrow. “That sounded convincing in a ‘please don’t ask again’ kind of way.” I don’t smile back. I can’t. My chest feels too tight. “Okay… rough morning then,” he says, more gently this time. He studies me for a second. “Is there a problem?” I let out a short, bitter laugh. “I’m used to problems.” I start walking away before he can say anything else. His voice follows me. “That’s usually what people say before things get worse.” I don’t respond. I just keep walking toward Nora’s usual parking spot, my mind still replaying Killian’s cold expression. The way he looked at me like I was something he needed to get rid of. It stings. Nora is already waiting in the car, scrolling on her phone. The second I open the door and drop into the passenger seat, she clocks me. “Spill,” she says immediately. “You look like you want to murder someone.” I slam the door harder than necessary and lean my head back against the seat. “Your brother is teaching my Psychology class.” Nora blinks. “Wait… what?” “Yeah. Professor Davenport. In the flesh.” My voice comes out sharper than I intended. “And he pulled me aside after class and told me to drop it. Just like that. No real explanation. Said he doesn’t need ‘complications’ in his class.” Nora’s mouth falls open. “He said what? Why would he care if you’re in his class or not?” “I don’t know!” I snap, frustration bubbling over. I’m embarrassed, angry, and way too unsettled for my own good. “I barely said two words to him and he’s already trying to kick me out. Who does he think he is?” Nora starts the car, frowning. “That doesn’t sound like Killian. He’s usually… distant, but not petty. Want me to talk to him?” “No.” The word comes out fast. I cross my arms tighter over my chest. “I can handle it myself. I’m not dropping the class. I need those credits, and every other elective is full. He doesn’t get to decide that for me just because he’s… him.” Nora glances at me, eyebrows raised. “You sound really worked up about this.” “I’m not worked up,” I lie. “I’m just… irritated.” The car falls quiet for a moment. I stare out the window, trying to calm the chaotic mix of emotions swirling inside me. Anger. Embarrassment. And that stupid, traitorous flutter I felt when he looked at me too long in his office. I hate it. I hate that after seven years, one conversation with him can still throw me off balance. I’m supposed to be over him. I am over him. Or at least I was, until he came back and decided to ruin my perfectly fine semester. Nora finally speaks, softer this time. “You sure you don’t want me to say something? He listens to me sometimes.” “I’m sure.” I straighten in my seat, trying to regain some control. “I’m staying in that class. I’m not intimidated by Professor Davenport.” Even as I say the words, my stomach twists. Because deep down, I know the truth. I’m not just intimidated. Something about him makes me feel like I’m already losing control. And that scares me more than anything he actually said.
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My Best Friend’s Brother Is My Professor—And He Wants Me 123
Elena CarsonNora claims the bathroom first and emerges like she has somewhere important to be.She is in a short silver dress and heels she can barely walk in, hair down, lipstick already applied. I stand in front of the mirror longer than necessary, holding up two options before settling on a black dress that lands mid-thigh and feels like a compromise between trying and not caring. I leave the diamond necklace on. Taking it off for a party would feel like a small, unnecessary betrayal.Nora looks me over and nods once. “Acceptable. Let’s go before I lose my nerve and order room service instead.”The lounge sits on the lower level of the villa complex, open to the warm night air on one side, string lights hanging in loose curves overhead. Music moves through the space. People cluster around low tables and the bar in summer clothes and easy postures. No one here knows my name or the photographs attached to it. Or the scandal.We claim two seats at the bar. The first drink is
My Best Friend’s Brother Is My Professor—And He Wants Me 122
Elena CarsonSaturday morning arrives quick. I zip the last corner of my bag while Nora argues with a sandal in the doorway, hopping on one foot as she tries to force the strap into place. The apartment smells like the coffee she insisted we drink before the road and the citrus lotion she put on too much of. “If this shoe dies on the way down the stairs,” Nora says, “I’m billing Killian for emotional damages.”“He upgraded the room. He has already paid enough.”“That was hospitality. This is suffering.”She wins the fight with the sandal. We lock the apartment, drag our bags into the hallway, and take the elevator down with the shared energy of people who have officially escaped. In the car Nora connects her phone before I even finish buckling my seatbelt. The first song is one we both know too well. She turns it up until the bass makes the cup holders vibrate.We sing.Badly. Enthusiastically. Without any of the self-consciousness that has followed me across campus for a week.
My Best Friend’s Brother Is My Professor—And He Wants Me 121
Elena CarsonThe last couple of days mostly passes I’m a blur. Killian leaves early and comes back late. When he does return, it is usually after I have already turned off most of the lights, and we talk in the half-dark of his bedroom in voices kept low by exhaustion. He asks about my day. I give him the manageable version. He tells me the company is still absorbing the aftershocks of the scandal and that the remaining work is heavier than projected. I do not push for details. The circles under his eyes are detail enough.Campus has started to press in a different way. The stares have not disappeared; they have simply become more practiced. Conversations still pause when I enter certain rooms. A girl in my afternoon seminar made a point of switching seats when I sat down near her. None of it is dramatic enough to report. All of it is constant enough to wear at the edges of my concentration. I keep telling myself that bothering Killian with any of it would be selfish. He is al
My Best Friend’s Brother Is My Professor—And He Wants Me 120
Killian DavenportShe is still trembling lightly in my lap when I decide the car is not enough.The lookout is quiet, the city spread out below us in indifferent lights, but I want her somewhere with a door that locks and a bed that does not require us to watch the windows. I ease her back into the passenger seat, help her find her jeans in the dark, and start the engine while she is still catching her breath. She glances at me once, cheeks flushed, eyes soft with the leftover haze of what I just did to her, and does not ask why we are moving. She trusts the decision. That trust sits warm and heavy behind my ribs the entire drive back.The penthouse garage is empty when we pull in. I take her hand in the elevator and keep it. The moment the front door closes behind us I have her against it, mouth on hers, the taste of vanilla ice cream and her still mixed on my tongue. She makes a small sound into the kiss and fists her hands in the front of my shirt.“Bedroom,” I say against h
My Best Friend’s Brother Is My Professor—And He Wants Me 119
Elena CarsonBy the time I leave campus, the day has already sorted itself into categories.There were the stares. The quick and curious ones, some of them were longer and less kind. There were the whispers that stopped when I passed and restarted the moment my back was turned. One girl from my media seminar actually walked up to me outside the lecture hall, phone half-raised like she was deciding whether this counted as content, and asked what it was like dating Killian Davenport. I looked at her until the question collapsed under its own weight and she muttered something about just wondering before moving off.The jealousy was also there. A pair of students near the vending machines made sure their voices carried just far enough. What could he possibly see in her? The words landed and then slid off. I did not give them anywhere to stay. I had decided that this morning, somewhere between the car door closing and the first set of eyes finding me in the corridor. They could look. Th
My Best Friend’s Brother Is My Professor—And He Wants Me 118
Killian DavenportMy hands are steady when I button the dark shirt, but the rest of me is not.The mirror reflects a man who looks composed, straight collar and neutral expression, the usual armor. Underneath it the tension sits low in my belly. Today the university board gets its turn with me. Elena already walked through their questions and came home hollowed out by the experience. Now they will attempt to fit me into the role they have already half-assigned: the professor who crossed a line, the man who should have known better, the liability.I step out of the bedroom. Elena is dressed in baggy jeans and one of my hoodies, hair pulled back, the diamond necklace hidden under the fabric. I love that she has never taken it off since he say l have it to her. I told her Nora could drive her so we would not arrive together. She refused. She is stepping onto campus grounds for the first time since the photographs surfaced, and she wants the ride to happen with me.“You ready?” I as
My Best Friend’s Brother Is My Professor—And He Wants Me 006
Elena CarsonIt’s been three days since Professor Davenport asked me to drop his class and I told him no.Three days of successfully avoiding him. Or maybe he’s been avoiding me. Either way, I haven’t seen him since that awkward confrontation in his office. But I hear his name everywhere I turn o
My Best Friend’s Brother Is My Professor—And He Wants Me 004
Killian Davenport Of all the women in New York, why did it have to be Elena Carson who walked into my classroom?I lean against my desk, arms crossed, watching her stand awkwardly in the middle of the empty lecture hall. Messy bun, slightly wrinkled blouse, flushed cheeks. She looks like
My Best Friend’s Brother Is My Professor—And He Wants Me 003
Elena Carson KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK. I jolt awake, heart pounding. Ow. My head is killing me. I rub my temples and slowly register that I’m on the floor of my room. Not my bed. My hair is stuck to my cheek and there’s a dull ache behind my eyes that makes even breathing feel like effort. Everyth
My Best Friend’s Brother Is My Professor—And He Wants Me 002
Elena Carson He wasn’t supposed to be here tonight.Killian Davenport straightens from the bar, his grey eyes locked on me like he’s trying to place something. My stomach flips violently. He starts walking toward me, slow and deliberate, like a predator who just spotted easy prey. I freeze
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