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All Chapters of My Best Friend’s Brother Is My Professor—And He Wants Me: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

71 Chapters

001

Elena Carson The first time Killian Davenport broke my heart, I was thirteen years old. The second time happened tonight when his sister looked up from her phone and casually said, “My brother is back.” That was barely an hour ago, and my heart still hasn’t recovered. I swallow hard, staring at the pile of clothes scattered across my closet like they can somehow save me. I planned to wear something simple tonight, jeans and a cute blouse, for Nora’s birthday party. It’s basically the safe and invisible option I always pick for any outing. But the moment Nora dropped that bomb, everything changed. Because if Killian is really back in New York after so many years, I don’t want to look like the awkward little girl he used to ignore. I want to look… God, I don’t even know what I want. I just know my hands are shaking as I grab the black corset dress Nora gifted me months ago for my twentieth birthday. “He’s not coming to the party,” I remind myself, trying to breathe. Nora sai

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 on the spot, unable to move, unable to breathe. Every step he takes makes my pulse louder. Just when he’s only a few feet away, Nora appears out of nowhere and nudges him hard with her shoulder.“Well, well, look who decided to show up and steal all the attention the second he walked in,” she says cockily, grinning up at him. “Typical Killian behavior.”Killian’s lips twitch into a small, composed smile. His voice is deeper than I remember. Low, smooth, and ridiculously sexy. “Hello to you too, little sister.”God. That voice. It slides over my skin like warm velvet. He’s changed so much. The way he carries himself now with straight shoulders and controlled movement while radiating quiet pow

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. Everything looks upside down. My dresser drawers are half open, my clothes are everywhere, and one of my boxes is spilled across the carpet like a crime scene. “What the—” I crawl closer, still dizzy, and freeze. It’s that box. The one I’ve kept since I was thirteen. The one filled with every stupid memory of Killian Davenport. Photos I secretly took of him. Printouts from Nora’s phone. Even the letters I wrote to him when I was a lovesick teenager, pages and pages of my pathetic crush that I never sent. Some of them have fresh lipstick stains on the edges. Drunk me apparently dragged this box out last night and kissed the damn letters. I groan and bury my face into my pillow. Please

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 she barely survived last night.The messy bun shouldn’t work, but it does.Last night at the bar, I noticed her before I knew who she was. A beautiful stranger in a tight black dress. I looked twice. I don’t usually look twice.Then she turned her head, and reality crashed into me. Elena Carson. Nora’s best friend. The quiet girl who used to trail behind my sister like a shadow. Always reading, always watching, never taking up space. I remembered her.This version doesn’t fade into the background anymore.Somewhere between thirteen and twenty, she learned how to command attention without trying. And that’s exactly why I pretended not to recognize her last night. Distance is safer.I let the

005

Elena 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

006

Elena Carson It’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 on campus. And it’s driving me insane. Apparently, within just a few days of him being at Ravenscroft, every girl on campus has either seen or heard about the “New Hot Broody Professor.” It’s like someone dropped a spark in a pile of dry leaves. Now the whole place is on fire with gossip. As I sit in the cafeteria, poking at my barely touched salad, two girls at the table opposite me are giggling over their phones, scrolling through something with way too much excitement. “Oh my God, look at this one,” one of them whispers. “He’s so hot. Like… unfairly hot.” “I voted for him again. He’s at 87% now. This is insane.” I grip my fork tighter. It’s just a phase, I tell myself. They’ll

007

Killian DavenportShe’s in my closet.The moment I open the door, the world narrows to one single, impossible sight.Elena Carson.Standing among my suits and shirts, eyes squeezed shut, breathing shallow. My clothes are brushing against her. My scent is all over her. My jaw clenches so tightly it aches and my pulse kicks up.What the fuck is she doing here?I ended class early today because I’m expected at the Davenport mansion tonight. There’s a family dinner. I thought maybe, just maybe, Elena had finally listened and dropped my class. When I didn’t see her in the lecture hall, a quiet part of me had almost felt relieved.Clearly, I was wrong.She’s here instead. In my penthouse. In my goddamn closet.She keeps breaking through every boundary I try to set.First, refusing to drop my class. Now this.I let the silence stretch, watching her lashes flutter. When she finally opens her eyes and meets mine, the air between us becomes electric. Her lips part, but no sound comes out. S

008

Killian DavenportThe gates of the Davenport mansion loom ahead as I pull up the long driveway. I kill the engine and sit there a moment, staring at the familiar lights spilling from the windows.The last time I was here was the night I first landed back in the US. I saw my father briefly, confirmed he was still breathing, exchanged the bare minimum of words, and left almost immediately. Being back after seven years still feels strange. Like stepping into a grave I already escaped once.I grab the gift bag from the backseat and step out. The driveway looks the same, but not quite. The nude statue by the fountain — the one my father used to adore as some symbol of classical power — is gone.Interesting. Maybe the old man really is sick. Or maybe he’s simply rewriting the scenery to fit whatever narrative he’s selling these days.Ronald is waiting at the entrance, hands clasped behind his back.“You’re late,” he says.I smirk faintly. “Old habits.”We’ve been friends since childhood

009

Elena CarsonThe last place I want to be is Psychology.Unfortunately, it’s also the one place I have to be.I pause outside the lecture hall doors, tightening my grip on my notebook until my knuckles turn white. For two days, I’ve tried to avoid thinking about the fact that I got caught hiding in Professor Davenport’s closet like some kind of obsessed stalker.That was a lie.I’ve thought about it constantly. The memory keeps replaying at the worst possible moments. The closet door swinging open, the way his grey eyes locked onto mine, the dangerous edge in his voice when he told me to get out. And in the car when he’d told me I could stay in his class.Heat crawls up my neck just thinking about it.God. Why did I let Nora talk me into that?Students stream past me into the lecture hall. A few girls near the door are already giggling.“Do you think he’s wearing glasses today?”“I hope so.”“I swear that should be illegal.”I roll my eyes and push through the doors. The lecture hal

010

Killian DavenportI walk across the Ravenscroft parking lot, keys in hand.This place is louder than it needs to be. Too much performance, too little discipline. My students in London were quieter and more efficient. They came to learn, not to put on a show. Teaching here feels like stepping into a circus I never agreed to join.I get into my car and let out a slow breath. Finally. A quiet evening in my penthouse is exactly what I need. No students. No gossip. My phone rings before I can even start the engine.Ronald.I answer, already irritated. “Tell me it’s not important.”“I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t.”I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What’s the issue?”Ronald’s voice is measured, the way it always gets when he’s about to ask for something he knows I won’t like. “The workload is getting out of hand. Kyle and I can’t manage it alone. Just this once, Killian. One policy issue tied to an old contract. If we handle it wrong, people get hurt.”I stare out the windshield. “Yo

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