Waiting for Love ((Waiting) Book 2) Read Free Page A

held, I see Jeff getting out of his truck. I pause at the bottom of the stairs and wait for him to catch up.
    “Hey, Jeff.” I smile as I say his name.
    “Good morning Shelby. I’m glad you made it on time today.” He winks at me before opening the door. He holds it open for me and gestures with his hand for me to go first.
    “Thanks,” I reply as I walk through. I appreciate it when a guy has good manners like Jeff does. He’s got a lot of great qualities about him and will make some girl very happy. It just won’t be me. Sometimes when we’re together, I wish that he and I could be a couple, but it would never work. We’re way too much alike.
          We continue along the hallway until we reach the same classroom we were in just two days prior. Jeff opens the door and as we walk through, I notice that today there are plenty of vacant seats. We make our way across the room toward a table by the windows. He has his hand on my back as we’re negotiating our way in a single file formation through the rows. I place my stuff down at the seat furthest from the window and let him have the one next to it. Once I’m seated, I find myself glancing up to see what Professor Hanlon is doing. He’s staring at me and his gaze is so predatory my body is physically reacting to it. There’s a flutter of arousal burning in my core as I clench my thighs together under the table. We haven’t even touched yet and there’s something passing between us, an awareness, an attraction, whatever name you want to label it with…it’s powerful. I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to any man before and it’s intimidating and confusing. Guys don’t usually make me uncomfortable or unsure of myself and I don’t like being in this situation at all. I’m going to have to make sure I keep my distance from Professor Hanlon. A guy like him probably wouldn’t be interested in someone like me anyway. I’m sure he’s attracted to the model type and someone closer to his own age. It really doesn't matter, though, because I never plan to find out.
     
    ***
     
          We’re two weeks into the semester and it was much less of a struggle for me to wake up on time today. I’m not really a morning person, but I am a creature of habit. Once I settle in and get used to my new schedule, it’s smooth sailing for me. I’m running early enough this morning to grab a cup of coffee at the kiosk on campus. The line is long and it has me rethinking my decision. I glance down at my watch and notice that I still have fifteen minutes until my creative writing class begins; plenty of time to satisfy my caffeine craving. As I wait to place my order, I become aware of someone standing behind me. In my periphery, I notice it’s a male and he clearly doesn’t understand the meaning of personal space. His chest has brushed against my back, at least, three times and I can feel the warmth of his breath on the bare skin of my neck as he exhales. I want to turn around and tell him to back off, but instead, I grit my teeth and convince myself to ignore him. I move forward as much as I can without crowding the person in front of me and I get a brief moments peace before he’s brushing against me. Only, this time, he doesn’t stop with a simple touch...this time, he remains there, pressed along my backside. His body is giving off a massive amount of heat and yet I inexplicably break out with goosebumps all along my arms. The customer in front of me steps forward to place their order and I breathe a sigh of relief as I place some space between the stranger and myself.
    “Good morning Miss Tyler.” I jump a bit from the unexpected voice whispering huskily in my ear. It may only be the second week of class, but already I recognize that voice and it belongs to Professor Hanlon. Shit. I stiffly shift my stance and pivot to face him, my back poker straight. His eyes slowly skate over my form, lingering on my chest, before raising back up to meet my stare.