Lunar Crest University (Forbidden Fruit)

Chapter Five

FINLEY

MONDAY, OCTOBER 2ND, 2023

S weat pricks my forehead as I make my way down the sidewalk toward the English Hall, my arms clutching my notebook to my chest as I suck in a deep breath. Even the crisp air outside can’t manage to cool me down. My skin emits heat, as if I’m running a fever. On the contrary, I feel perfectly fine, except for the ball of bundled nerves in my stomach at the thought of seeing Professor Serrano again.

I could avoid him, enter the classroom without a second glance or word toward him. That is, if I didn’t have to turn in my Beowulf response paper to his desk before I could scurry away. I have to stand up in front of him, lay the paper down, bear the chance of him staring up at me over the top of his glasses, and feel the somersaults that my stomach would do in response.

There’s no escaping the inevitable.

I knew it the moment I woke up on my couch yesterday morning, still wrapped in his jacket that smelled profoundly of him. It meant that what I had hoped was a nightmare, puking everywhere and him carrying me inside, was actually real life. Much to my dismay. It’s humiliating enough that I’d been caught red-handed in his office after hours. Everything that happened was like a stack of disasters piling up, one by one, until I ultimately crumbled with embarrassment.

He probably thinks I’m a lunatic.

My palm hesitates on the handle of the classroom door for a moment as I swallow the lump in my throat. Whisking open the door, goosebumps trail down my arms beneath my uniform blazer as my eyes fall on him. Perched at his desk, he stares down at papers as he twirls a pen around in his large fingers, completely oblivious to me. Meanwhile, I have increasingly alarming heart palpitations as I approach his desk.

Hoping to drop the response paper down without him even bothering to glance up, I hurry to place it atop the stack that has already accumulated. I bite back a squeak as his head lifts, his dark eyes observing me slowly as I gulp. Twisting on my heels, I make a bee-line for my desk as I sit down, keeping my eyes on everything but him.

“Good morning, class,” Professor Serrano greets, standing from his chair as he looks around the room. “And by the looks of some of you, it appears you had a good weekend, too.”

His joke is met with a few giggles, but one in particular is obnoxiously prevalent. Genevieve Pierce flicks her blonde hair over her shoulder as she laughs softly, crossing her leg over her knee as she leans back in her seat. Cocking her head sideways, she bats her annoyingly thick eyelashes up at him.

I peek out of my peripheral at Levi, not shocked in the slightest that he’s pouting.

“And how was your weekend, Professor Serrano?” Genevieve questions innocently.

Before I can grimace at her forwardness, Levi grumbles next to me as he rolls his eyes. He doesn’t have to say anything for me to know he’s jealous, which also means he must’ve not made any progress at the party. I wish I could say I felt surprised, but this is the usual.

“Eventful,” Luca responds.

And then, his eyes flash toward me for a millisecond, barely long enough for it to be considered a passing glance, but it was enough to almost send me into cardiac arrest. Tugging my bottom lip between my teeth, I press my thighs together as I avert his gaze just as quickly.

“I have a few things to go over before we start,” Luca continues as he clears his throat, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “First, we’re going to be reading Dante’s The Divine Comedy this week. There will be a quiz next Monday on the Middle Ages.”

His dark curls jostle around as he paces back and forth, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose every so often. I catch myself staring pitifully at his movements as if starstruck, tearing my eyes away from him. It’s frustrating how enamored I am with him against my will, like a hostage in my own body.

“In three weeks, there will be an opportunity to take a literary tour in Britain. It’s a seven-day trip. We’ll fly and stay at a hotel. I’ll pass out the forms at the end of class, which will cover all the details and costs. I need to know who is staying and who is going by the end of the week.”

My ears perk up at the information. I’d always wanted to visit outside of the country but never had gotten the chance before. The farthest I’d gone on vacation with my family was the sunny coast of California. Beaches were never my cup of tea, though. England was beautiful and historic—the perfect trip. Except for the fact that he would be there.

Sounds like a punishment, almost.

Or an opportunity.

And it was sadly all my poor mind could think about for the next hour as Luca droned on about the three major pieces that made up The Divine Comedy . Every so often, his eyes would fall on me as his lips moved, swiftly fleeting elsewhere before they lingered too long, but every time, it made me feel more breathless than the last. Do I really want to be stuck with that for an entire week in another country?

Passing looks. Dark brown eyes. Him.

I still can’t decide whether he’s annoyed by me or likes to annoy me. Perhaps it’s both. One minute, he’s telling me to forget our strange encounter in the alley, and the next, he’s driving me home and carrying me princess-style into my apartment. The confusion only makes me want to stay further away, save myself the embarrassment of what else I would say or do in his presence.

Three minutes before class ends, Professor Serrano walks to each desk and places the form in front of each student. As he makes his way to the third row, putting the paper down on my desk as he studies me briefly, his fingers linger faintly before he pulls them away.

“Let me know if you have any questions about the form,” he instructs the class.

I focus down on the paper as he walks away, my mouth suddenly dry as I attempt to swallow. I marginally skim over the print, which talks about the specifics of the tour and which hotel we’d be dwelling in for seven days, summarized at the bottom with the cost and a one-word note scribbled in his handwriting.

Come.

And now I’m even more confused.

If I wanted to, I could just say there wasn’t anyone else to cover my shifts at work or that I didn’t want to miss my other classes for an entire week.

Or I could go.

“I wonder if Mr. Hotshot knows that most of us are college kids who can hardly afford ramen noodles for dinner,” Levi grumbles with a snort, crumpling up his form as he shoves it into his bag. “This is a joke.”

Levi Matthews can be a brat—the biggest one I’ve ever met—but he’s like my brother. He gets on my nerves, but I love him anyway. He has a tendency to project when he’s upset. The tension of his crush on an oblivious Genevieve has been building for months now. I’m surprised he hasn’t blown up sooner.

“I think it’s kind of cool.” I shrug.

“God. Not you too.”

My brow furrows as I glance over at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re another one of his biggest fans , aren’t you?” he huffs. “Like every other girl in thi?—”

“Mr. Matthews, I suggest you keep whatever insult that was about to leave your mouth unspoken,” Professor Serrano warns lowly from behind us, making me freeze. It’s not loud enough for everyone to hear, but it doesn’t make him sound any less scary. “Or you can find another class to attend.”

I suppress a smile, ducking my head as I lean forward and listen to Levi grumble something under his breath. As much as the words stung a little, I know he’s just taking his frustrations out on me. He’d come down off his high horse and apologize—he always does. We may be close like siblings, but we fight like them too.

Luca’s words hang in the air around me, heavy and protective, in a weird , hot way. It probably seemed like a professor scolding a student to Levi, but to me, there was a deeper meaning. I know him better than anyone else in this room. I found him bleeding in an alley and cleaned him up as he sat on my toilet. It took me days to scrub the evidence from my carpet.

And that was really all the convincing my naive brain needed to decide I would go to England.

“I’m sorry,” Levi murmurs to me as Professor Serrano walks further down the aisle, pressing his cheek against my shoulder. “You know I’m sorry, right?”

“Yes,” I say. “But that doesn’t make it okay.”

“I know,” he mumbles. “I’m an ass.”

I nod, side-eyeing him. “One of these days, you’re going to have to get over her, Levi. I’m not always going to be your punching bag when you’re pouting over her.”

Professor Serrano clears his throat at the front of the room before Levi can say anything, commanding my attention as my eyes lift to look at him. Except he’s not looking at me. He’s staring at Levi, who’s still leaning on my shoulder. His eyes are so dark, it sends shivers down my spine, and I sit up straighter in my seat to nonchalantly shrug Levi off.

It’s a look that reminds me Luca may be a professor here at Lunar Crest, but he is still getting attacked in alleyways. He had done something to warrant that response from the big, scary guy, which means he’s quite possibly dangerous.

Why does that excite me?