Chapter Two: Blackthorne College

(Nathan's POV)

Blackthorne College was the kind of place where people smiled to your face and ruined your life anonymously online ten minutes later.

Money mattered here. Reputation mattered more.

Luxury cars filled the parking lot every morning like some kind of fancy car exhibition, designer shoes clicked across marble floors, expensive perfume mixed with coffee and cigarettes in the hallways… everybody was trying to look untouchable. Some people actually were.

I pulled my black Aston Martin into campus with one hand on the steering wheel while Kelly scrolled through his phone beside me.

My parking spot sat near the front of the Arts and Behavioral Sciences building, untouched as always. Nobody parked there except me, not because it was officially reserved. People just knew better.

Kelly whistled low as I parked. “You know somebody keyed Tristan’s car last week.”

“Tragic.”

“You think it was that girl he ghosted?”

“Probably one of the boys he ghosted, he likes his boy toys a little crazy.”

Kelly snorted.

I stepped out of the car, sliding my sunglasses up into my hair. The morning air smelled like rain and expensive cigarettes. Students were already all over campus, moving between buildings with coffees in hand.

And then people noticed me. They can't not.

The girls immediately started whispering. Some smiled, some stared too long. A group near the stairs literally stopped talking when I walked past.

Typical.

I heard my name at least ten times before we even reached the building entrance.

“Nathan Laurent—”

“Oh my God, he’s here.”

“Didn’t he break someone’s nose last week?”

“He breaks someone's nose every week, he's still hot.”

“I heard he hooked up with—”

“I’d let him ruin my life.”

“Oh fuck, I'm wet for him.”

“He's so hot.”

I smirked to myself.

Blackthorne loved drama almost as much as it loved rich people. Lucky for them, I happened to be both.

Kelly walked beside me carrying his backpack while I held absolutely nothing because I rarely brought things to class unless forced. Half my assignments were done by Kelly anyway.

Not that anyone knew that.

Kelly blended in pretty well despite not being born into ridiculous wealth like the rest of us. He knew how to act rich, which honestly mattered more at Blackthorne than actually being rich.

“You going to Behavioral Psychology or skipping again?” Kelly asked.

“I never skip Mr Hale’s class. But I prefer his sex Ed class to this behavior psychology shit.”

Kelly rolled his eyes. “You’re obsessed.”

“Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing.”

I grinned.

Professor Vincent Hale.

The hottest professor in Blackthorne College history.

That wasn’t even me exaggerating. Girls were obsessed with him. Guys too. There were literally confession posts online dedicated to his veiny hands.

His hands have a fan base.

Pathetic.

Okay maybe not pathetic. Vincent Hale was unfairly attractive. Tall, calm, deep voice, sleeve tattoos, hazel eyes sharp enough to make people shut up instantly. And unlike most professors here, he never acted intimidated by rich students.

Especially not me.

Which was exactly why I liked bothering him so much. For months, making Professor Hale lose patience had become my favorite hobby.

Unfortunately, the man had the emotional reactions of a brick wall. I've been openly flirting and pushing him for months and he's not over the edge yet. Instead of successfully pushing him off the edge, I've only successfully edged myself to the point of having a vivid dream of him fucking me in his office.

We entered the Behavioral Sciences building, and immediately more people started staring.

A blonde girl near the vending machine smiled at me. “Morning, Nathan.”

“Morning, sweetheart.” I said, making sure to sound very flirty.

Her friend nearly fainted.

Kelly muttered, “You flirt with everything that breathes.”

“Not everything.” I argued.

“Only ninety-nine point nine percent of the population.” Kelly went on, giving me a glare.

“That’s still selective.”

We reached the hallway leading to Professor Hale’s lecture hall. Students were already going inside.

I leaned against the wall and pulled my vape from my pocket.

Kelly narrowed his eyes instantly. “You’re coming in late on purpose, aren’t you?”

I smirked slowly. “You know.”

“You seriously need help.”

Probably.

Kelly shook his head and walked into class while I stayed behind casually vaping near the windows.

A few students passed by and greeted me nervously. Others openly stared. Somebody whispered, “That’s him,” like I was some kind of celebrity criminal.

Maybe I am.

About five minutes later, Professor Vincent Hale appeared at the end of the hallway.

And yeah. He's still so fucking hot.

Dark slacks. Black button-up shirt with sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms. Tattoos peek through the fabric. Coffee cup in one hand. All that is hot, but I want to see a fully hard bulge in those perfectly fitted pants.

His eyes landed on me immediately.

I grinned around my vape. “Morning, professor.”

“Mr. Laurent.”

God, even the way he said my name sounded attractive.

Mr Hale walked past me without stopping and entered the lecture hall.

I waited another ten minutes before finally going in.

The second I stepped inside, the entire room noticed.

Professor Hale looked up from his notes as I casually walked down the steps with my vape still in hand.

His expression didn’t change at all.

“Nathaniel Laurent.”

There it was again. Nathaniel. Not Nathan. Nobody called me Nathaniel except him. I'd even forget my name is Nathaniel if not for him always calling me by my full name.

I stopped in front of his desk. “Missed me already?”

He held out his hand. “Give me the vape.”

I looked at it dramatically before placing it in his palm, purposely brushing my fingers against his. “At this point I’m starting to think you vape but can’t afford to buy your own, so you just take mine.”

A few people laughed.

Mr Hale ignored the comment completely and slipped the vape into his desk drawer.

“Reason for being late.”

The class immediately became interested.

This was another thing Professor Hale did. If you arrived late, he made you explain yourself in front of everybody, apologize for interrupting class, then answer a question from the previous lecture.

Most students found it terrifying, Kelly hates the professor because of that. But I found it entertaining.

I shoved my hands into my pockets. “I had a really erotic dream and woke up with a hard boner. Had to stay in bed longer for it to calm down.”

The class exploded.

People laughed loudly. Someone yelled, “Wish I was in the dream!”

A girl near the back fanned herself dramatically.

Mr Hale remained completely unfazed. Honestly, his lack of reaction was almost insulting.

“Apologize to the class,” he said calmly.

I sighed dramatically. “Sorry for interrupting your education with my tragic morning erection.”

More laughter.

Mr Hale picked up a marker. “Define displacement behavior from last lecture.”

Easy.

“It’s when emotional impulses get redirected into safer actions instead of the original target.”

Mr Hale gave a small nod. “Example.”

I smiled slowly. “Like being sexually frustrated and taking it out by obsessively confiscating a student’s vape.”

The class lost it again.

Even Kelly buried his face into his hands.

For one tiny second, I saw Mr Hale’s jaw tightened.

Victory.

“Take your seat, Nathaniel.”

I grinned and headed for my usual spot in the front row.

Yes, front row. Only for his class. I liked looking at him while he taught. And maybe I liked making him aware that I was looking.

The lecture continued, but honestly? Half the class spent more time staring at Mr Hale than their notes.

Couldn’t blame them. His voice alone could probably manipulate people into crime.

At one point, he walked past my desk while explaining behavioral conditioning, and I caught the faint smell of his cologne.

Yeah. I was definitely obsessed.

Class finally ended almost two hours later.

Students immediately crowded toward the exits, talking loudly as they packed their things.

I stayed seated, watching Mr Hale organize papers at his desk.

Kelly appeared beside me. “You’re staring again.”

“I’m appreciating beauty.”

“You need psychiatric help.”

“Luckily, I know a behavioral psychology professor.”

Kelly groaned.

We walked out into the hallway together while students flooded around us.

“You going to Tristan’s party tonight?” Kelly asked.

I scoffed. “Tristan is hosting. Of course I’ll be there, else he'd have his pests come up with some crazy rumours about how I'm acting jealous of him. And we're kind of friends now so I have to go to his parties.”

Kelly smirked slightly. “Professor Hale’s going too.”

I stopped walking.

“What?”

“You sit in front staring at him the whole lecture, so you wouldn’t know anything happening around you.” Kelly adjusted his bag. “Tristan said Professor Hale accepted the invitation.”

I blinked once. “That’s impossible.”

“Apparently Tristan just asked politely.”

“That bastard.”

Kelly laughed.

Because seriously, Vincent Hale hated student parties. Everybody knew that. So why the hell would he agree to go to one now?

I slowly smiled.

Interesting. Very interesting.

I slung an arm over Kelly’s shoulders and started dragging him toward the parking lot.

“Come on,” I said.

“Where are we going?”

“Shopping.”

Kelly groaned instantly. “Nathan—”

“If Professor Hale is gonna be there tonight,” I said with a grin, “I better look hot.”