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PROLOGUE
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2025-08-07 21:01:43The sound of heartbreak wasn’t a sob.
It was the slow, sickening ping of a text message that shattered Ava Sterling’s world.Louis: It was just a bet, babe. Chill.
That was it. No guilt. No denial. No shame.
Just the cold truth — that their entire relationship, every stolen kiss, every whispered promise — was a game. A bet. A sick dare between Louis and his frat boy friends to see who could take “the icy virgin” down first.
And he won.
Ava stared at her phone in disbelief, her hands shaking, her stomach hollow. Rage boiled beneath her ribs, but the tears never came. She refused to give Louis that satisfaction.
“We’re going out,” Camille said firmly, pulling the phone from Ava’s hand. “You’re not crying over that dickhead. You’re dancing.”
---
The club was dark, loud, and pulsing with energy — the perfect place to drown out betrayal in bass drops and cheap tequila.
Ava let Camille drag her into the chaos, the lights flashing across their skin, the music pounding against her chest like a second heartbeat. The first few drinks went down hard. So did the bitterness.
She wasn’t ready to flirt. She wasn’t ready to feel anything. Every man who glanced her way looked like another version of Louis — all charm, no soul.
So when she saw a tall man in a dark suit leaning a little too close to Camille at the bar, she didn’t think. She reacted.
Smack!
Her palm connected with his cheek before either of them had a chance to speak.
“Back the hell off,” she snapped, shoving between him and Camille like a shield. “She said she’s not interested.”
The man turned toward her slowly, and the second she saw his face — the clean jawline, the cruelly handsome smirk, the sharp, stormy eyes — her stomach flipped.
Camille choked. “Ava… he wasn’t hitting on me. He was asking for directions to the VIP lounge.”
Ava blinked. Twice.
The man didn’t speak. He just stared, one eyebrow arched, hand still on his cheek where she struck him. Not amused. Not angry. Just… calculating.
She should’ve apologized.
She didn’t.Instead, she gave him a long, unapologetic once-over, rolled her eyes, and turned on her heel like he wasn’t even worth her breath.
Because after Louis, no man was.
---
One week later.
Ava was halfway through her notes in her Modern Literature class, trying to block out the endless whispering about some hot new professor, when the door opened.
Footsteps.
Silence.
Then a smooth, commanding voice cut through the room like velvet laced with danger.
“Good morning. I’m Dr. William Reid. I’ll be taking over this class for the semester.”
Ava froze. Her pen dropped.
Camille turned pale.
They looked up in unison — and their jaws hit the floor.
It was him.
The man from the club. The man she slapped. The man she eyeballed and walked away from like he didn’t exist.
He stood at the front of the room, buttoned shirt, rolled sleeves, and a slow, amused smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
His eyes locked on hers.
Unblinking. Unforgiving. Unapologetic.
And Ava Sterling knew…
This semester just became very complicated.
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On My Professor's Desk CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Ava spent the rest of the week in a fog of restless anticipation. Every lecture, every conversation blurred into white noise. Her mind was already at the hotel—replaying how it would feel to finally be near him again, to feel that same silent pull she had tried for months to forget.Dr. Reid hadn’t texted again after sending her the details. The message had been brief, impersonal, almost cold:"Room 225. Westview Hotel. Friday, 6 PM. Don’t tell anyone you’re coming."Still, Ava had read it a dozen times, memorizing every word.By Friday morning, she stood in front of her mirror, her suitcase half-zipped and her heart pounding. She had tried on three different outfits before settling on one—a soft cream blouse that hinted at innocence and a pair of fitted jeans that did the opposite. Her hair fell in loose curls over her shoulders, and she dabbed a touch of perfume at her neck, the one she knew he liked.Camille’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You’re all dressed up. Going somewher
On My Professor's Desk CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Ava waited until the dorm lights dimmed, and the laughter from the neighboring rooms died out. Only then did she pull the blanket over her head, hiding the faint glow of the phone she wasn’t supposed to have.Camille’s phone.Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her throat. Her fingers shook as she unlocked the screen, careful, deliberate. Every motion felt criminal, even though she told herself this wasn’t theft.She just needed to find that video.Scrolling through Camille’s gallery felt like trespassing through someone’s memories—selfies, snapshots from parties, a dozen half-finished videos of campus life. And then, at the bottom of a folder marked EVENT NIGHT, she saw it.The thumbnail alone was enough to make her stomach twist.For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Her finger hovered above the screen, trembling.She should stop. She knew she should.But then she remembered Dr. Reid’s voice—flat, distant, “Please leave, Miss Sterling.”Like she meant nothing.She opened th
On My Professor's Desk CHAPTER THIRTY
Silence.Ava turned toward the window again, her reflection ghosting in the glass. For a moment, she looked like she might lie, or laugh it off. But the weight in her chest wouldn’t let her.Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “You wouldn’t understand.”“Try me.”Ava swallowed hard. “He’s older. He’s someone I shouldn’t have feelings for. It started… unexpectedly. And it ended badly.”Camille’s heart kicked. “Ended?”Ava nodded. “He made it clear that whatever happened between us couldn’t continue. And I thought I was fine with that. Until I realized I wasn’t.”Camille was quiet for a beat. “Does this older man happen to be someone who works in our school?”Ava didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The silence was enough.Camille’s stomach twisted. “Ava… please tell me it’s not who I think it is.”Ava’s fingers tightened around the window frame, knuckles pale. “I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”“I do,” Camille said, her voice dropping. “And that’s what scares me. Because if it
On My Professor's Desk CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Jason couldn’t focus.Not in class. Not during lunch. Not even when his friends joked around him.Ava had been off all morning—avoiding his texts, walking past him like he was invisible. It wasn’t just distance; it was coldness. Like she’d built a wall overnight and locked him out.When he caught a glimpse of her in the hallway, she wasn’t the same girl who’d curled against him two nights ago, laughing softly, whispering his name like it meant something.Now, she looked lost. Empty-eyed. And that hollow look gutted him.By noon, Jason gave up pretending he was fine. He found Camille sitting on one of the benches outside the lecture hall, scrolling through her phone.“Hey,” he said, voice uncertain.Camille looked up. “Jason. You look like someone kicked your dog.”He gave a short laugh that didn’t sound like one. “It’s Ava. She’s… I don’t know what’s going on with her. One minute, we’re good—really good—and the next she’s shutting me out completely.”Camille tilted her head, curious.
On My Professor's Desk CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Ava Sterling has been back to her dorm since evening after leaving Jason's place, and stayed wide awake.The glow from her phone had faded hours ago, but she was still sitting upright in bed, her knees pulled close to her chest, staring at the blank screen as if it might light up again. She’d expected a message. A call. Anything.But the silence was suffocating.Every time she shut her eyes, she saw his face—Dr. Reid’s—when he would open that message. She imagined the tightening of his jaw, the flicker of jealousy, the way his calm would finally, finally break.But that wasn’t what happened.When the knock came on her door the next morning, she thought, stupidly, it might be him. That he’d come to confront her, to say something—anything. Instead, it was Camille.“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Camille said with a strange edge in her voice. “You might want to see this.”Ava blinked as Camille closed the door behind her, phone already in hand. She didn’t even bother to sit down—she just pre
On My Professor's Desk CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Sex with Jason, was tender and messy and intimate, and it carried with it the wrongness Ava had been nursing like a secret. She gave him herself — not because she loved Jason in the way she’d promised him, but because she needed him to be an evidence, a living proof that she could be desired by someone other than the man who had become a private religion for her.As they lay tangled and breathless on the couch. Jason was already asleep within minutes, light even breathing softening his face. Ava watched him, and for a moment she felt something like tenderness — and then it was swallowed by guilt and a resolute chill.With a slow, shaking hand she retrieved the hidden phone, paused the recording, and swallowed a dry laugh that was more like a sob. The file sat in her gallery like a small, loaded thing. Proof. A rope she could throw to Dr. Reid and tug to see how he would react.She told herself it was for leverage. For a jolt. For something to make him look up from his safe life and se
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