Chapter 7

What if I'd been a total idiot and left it in Wyatt's office? Nah, that couldn't be right? I'd never make a screw-up that big. And if I had, Wyatt would've dragged me in front of everyone by now, his voice loud and mean, calling me out without a second thought. He's strict like that, as he is all about rules and no mercy, he was the kind of person who'd march straight to the disciplinary board if he caught wind of my journal.

Plus, he was right here, standing at the front, his black pants hugging those strong legs of his, a white shirt tucked in neatly, with a coat that didn't hide the way his body filled out the fabric. His arms strained the sleeves just enough to make my pulse kick up.

There was no way he'd let something like my journal slide if it landed in his hands. So who the fuck had it? Or where did I drop the damn thing? My brain spun in circles, sweat prickling my neck as I pictured those pages of me describing Wyatt pinning me down, his mouth hot on my skin, or Bryce's hands sliding over my hips, pulling me close in the dark.

“Mister Wright.”

Wyatt's voice cut through the air and I jumped in my seat, my heart slamming against my ribs. He was staring right at me, those dark eyes of his locked on mine, like he was expecting something from me.

Heat rushed to my face, burning my cheeks as I realized everyone had gone quiet. Oh shit, had he called me before? How many times did I miss it because I was lost in my head? But right now, that didn't matter, what mattered was, what the hell did he want from me?

I could hear the creak of chairs as heads turned my way, the whole class shifting to watch me. A few guys smirked at me, their lips curling like they were in on some joke while others flashed teasing grins at me, their eyes twinkling with that mix of satisfaction and amusement you get when someone's about to get roasted. And then there were the glares, sharp and annoyed because I had clearly made them stop learning but none of that hit as hard as Wyatt's stare. God, those eyes were deep and intense, the kind that stripped you bare without a word. I'd been craving a look like that since the first day he walked into our lecture hall, looking all confident and in control, making my body hum with need. But not now, not like this. I wanted his gaze on me in private, hungry and demanding, not this cold spotlight in front of everyone.

His face was a blank mask, his jaw tight and flexing under that smooth skin of his, like he was biting back what he actually wanted to say.

I knew that look, he figured I was zoning out because I didn't give a damn about his lesson, that I was just another lazy student not interested in whatever the hell he was droning on about but that wasn't it. I was drowning in my own mess of a day, the lost journal twisting my guts and the mystery text making my skin crawl. Still, part of me lit up under his attention. I imagined those eyes narrowing in a different way, pinning me to the desk after hours, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered what he really wanted.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry as sandpaper, and forced the words out. “I'm sorry, but I didn't catch the question?”

Wyatt held my stare for what felt like forever, those seconds stretching out. His eyes bored into me, saying more than any lecture ever could. It was disappointment and maybe a flicker of irritation, but damn if there wasn't something else there too, a heat that made my cock stir despite how I was panicking.

He almost rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was fighting a sigh, before he spoke again, voice steady and deep, rumbling through me.

“I already asked Emily what she knows about hyperthyroidism. She explained it well enough. Now, Jonathan, I'd like you to pick up from there. Describe the symptoms.”

My mind went blank for a minute, the weight of all those eyes pressing down on me but Wyatt's voice lingered in my ears, wrapping around me like a touch. I shifted in my seat, trying to focus, but my thoughts kept drifting to him, to the way his black pants clung to his thighs when he moved, the subtle bulge at his crotch that I'd stolen glances at before.

What would it be like if he called my name like that in the heat of the moment and during the build-up, his hands gripping my shoulders as he pushed me against the wall? The foreplay would be intense, our bodies grinding and sweat mixing together until it all broke, with me screaming his name as we came undone. And Bryce... Professor Lockhart, with his own set of black pants and that coat slung over his arm sometimes, joining in, his surname on my lips at first, building that fire until it was Bryce, coming out of my mouth pure and desperate.

The class waited, the silence getting heavy, and I knew I had to answer or risk making this worse. But even as I opened my mouth, my body betrayed me with heat pooling low in my stomach because the erotic pull of Wyatt's presence made it hard to think straight.

The question wasn't some brain-buster. I let out a quiet sigh but my mind scrambled to pull up the answer. I'd read about this stuff before, crammed it into my head for exams, so I knew it was in there somewhere. I racked my brain, pushing hard, trying to grab those facts but It was tough to spit out the words, especially with Wyatt's eyes drilling into mine, those sexy blue depths holding me captive. I had to look away, break that stare before I lost it completely, my cheeks already flushing hot as I gathered myself.

“If you don't know the answer, just say so. You don’t need to waste everyone's time.” Wyatt's cold voice filled the room and it was edged with that no-nonsense tone that always sent a shiver down my spine. A few laughs bubbled up from the back as some people were snickering at me, probably thinking I was just another dumbass zoning out but I wasn't.

My head was just a mess, full of worries about that damn journal and the way Wyatt's black pants hugged his thick thighs, the fabric stretching just right over his ass when he shifted his weight.

“No... I know it.” I croaked, my voice cracking like a kid's. I cleared my throat quickly, forcing the words out.

“The symptoms... heat intolerance. The patient would complain about sweating excessively, get all irritable and fidgety, and can't sit still. The eyes bulge out a little, staring wide, and there's this swelling in the neck, like a lump you can't miss.”