Lunar Crest University (Forbidden Fruit)

Chapter Six

LUCA

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 6TH, 2023

I ’ve officially had enough of the curly-headed fucker who sits next to Finley every other day, moping every time the blonde in the front even speaks. I hear their conversations—the whispers when they think they’re talking too quietly for anyone to hear. The dude pouts and sulks, takes his frustrations out on her, and she just lets him.

He’s already on my shit list for letting her roam around drunk the other night. This only makes it worse.

There’s no fiery attitude, no smart-ass responses. Finley sits there and listens to his constant whining without even a hint of irritation in her expression. I want to kick him out of the class just for the hell of it, just to keep him away from her.

Despite snapping at him at the beginning of the week, Levi still grumbles and groans and whines and whines and whines . It’s an incessant sound that makes me want to smash his face into the desk as hard as I possibly can to get him to shut up.

It’s Friday morning, the end of another long, relentless week, and the cut-off day for the forms to be turned in for those planning to take the trip to England.

And as much as I try not to, I hope Finley will set a form down on my desk when she waltzes into the classroom. Seven days of being around her. Sleeping in the same hotel, just a few doors away from her. Touring Britain with the striking, green-eyed girl whom I can’t seem to rip my thoughts away from. She's imprinted there like a tattoo, permanent and ingrained. Every time I close my eyes, I picture her long, raven-colored hair and porcelain skin, how one would look wrapped around my fist while the other reddened from my touch.

Fuck.

So my determination to avoid these feelings has been failing. Sue me.

It was evident enough in the note I’d left on her form.

It wasn’t only out of selfishness. Being in another country also ensures her safety. She witnessed something she wasn’t supposed to when she found me that night, and I didn’t make matters any better when I shattered that glass over Rosco’s bald ass head. I was already in hot water, and she dived in head-first right behind me.

Dean Maddon had approved the trip as long as at least six students signed up to attend. There are currently five forms on my desk, and everyone is present in the classroom—all except one. My head lifts as the door opens, and my eyes fall on Finley as she walks inside nearly two minutes before class starts. Soft bags underneath her eyes reflect a long night she must’ve had, immediately piquing my interest.

It’s none of your business.

Disappointment floods me in suffocating tidal waves as I look down at her empty hands, slightly discouraged that she isn’t holding a form. Even so, surprising me as usual, she approaches my desk as her hand digs through her bag slung over her shoulder. Relief replaces the dismay as she whisks out the crumpled form, placing it on top of the stack with a thin-lipped smile before she walks to her desk.

“Ms. Dunaway.”

The words fumble through my lips before I can even think twice about it.

She turns slowly to face me, her perfectly shaped eyebrows raising expectantly as she moseys back over to stand in front of my desk.

“Yes, sir?”

I lean forward, swallowing thickly as I gaze up at her through my glasses. “Long night?”

Fucking idiot.

Her relaxed features construe into a grimace. “I had to study for a test I have in linguistics today, sir .”

But if Levi had asked her the same question, I know he would’ve been granted a different reaction. She would’ve shrugged it off like everything else that left his mouth. His annoying mouth that I want to rip clean from his face.

I hum in response, licking my lips as I sit back in my chair again. The class buzzes with chattering students, not even paying attention to the way she’s glaring at me. I’ve clearly overstepped, but it’s too late to take it back now—not that I want to with the way she’s fuming, arms crossed over her chest.

“Anything else?” she asks impatiently.

“No. You can be seated.”

She huffs quietly as she stomps toward her desk, plopping down and dropping her bag to the floor. The sight nearly makes me laugh, but I press my lips together as I struggle to keep my amusement at bay. As I watch her, I push up from my chair and clear my throat to draw everyone’s attention before their eyes fall on her dramatics.

“If anyone else has any last-minute forms, I need them before we start,” I instruct.

It doesn’t surprise me much when Genevieve raises her hand, reaching down with her other to pull a form from her expensive handbag. Approaching her desk, I try to keep from rolling my eyes as she bats her eyelashes up at me, per usual.

She’s not the person I want to look at me like that.

“Here you go, Professor Serrano.”

I take the paper from her manicured fingers as I glance up at Finley, who isn’t paying me any attention at all. Instead, she glares down at the blonde with the intensity of a thousand suns, her jaw clenched tightly.

“Thank you, Ms. Pierce,” I praise, flashing her a smile out of spite, just to see Finley’s reaction.

Something to tell me I’m not making things up in my mind. That she’s affected by me just as pitifully as I am by her. It’s wrong, I know that, but I need to know if she can’t stop looking at me either. It could all be one big delusion, a clear sign I need to get my shit together, but it could also be the latter.

And the way her nostrils flare as she turns away, shooting daggers at the wall instead of the back of Genevieve’s head, tells me everything I need to know. The way her hands clench into fists beneath the desk, dangerously close to brushing her skirt up a little too high on her thighs, and the way her shoulders lift shakily with each deep breath she sucks in.

Stop fucking looking.

I want her to use every ounce of that frustration on me. With her hands, her lips, her teeth . I’ll take anything she gives me.

It’s a constant battle inside of my head every day. I’m smarter than this, and fuck , I swear I have more bearings than a sixteen-year-old boy, but her presence is a literal curse. My mind turns to complete mush when I look at her. How fucking juvenile.

“Why do people sin?”

As I ask, I write it out on the chalkboard as well, twisting around to face the class as I clasp my hands together. There is silence in response, so I relish a bit.

“There are two reasons in The Divine Comedy ,” I guide the question further, licking my lips. “What are they?”

“A lack of will.”

My eyes flicker up to Finley, who sits forward, elbows perched on her desk as her fingers intertwine in front of her. Her straight hair cascades down her blazer, not a strand out of place as she stares at me. Her gaze is the most intimidating it’s ever been. She’s undoubtedly heated. And if a heated discussion is what she wants, a heated discussion she’ll get.

“And?” I counter.

“An attractive veneer.”

My lips curl slightly at her cross tone, my tongue pressing against my cheek. “What are some examples of a lack of will? Anyone?”

Genevieve pipes in quickly. “Lack of self-control. Like setting an alarm and being unable to resist pressing the snooze button.”

Something stirs deep in my stomach as Finley slowly slides her tongue across the front of her teeth. If looks could kill, Ms. Pierce would be dead.

“Like pursuing someone you can’t have,” Finley adds.

Genevieve narrows her eyes over her shoulder as she glowers up at Finley, who doesn’t even flinch as she stares right back. Straightening her shoulders, Ms. Pierce turns to face forward again, wiping the vexation from her features as she smiles up at me.

I raise my eyebrows dubiously for a second before nodding as I continue to pace back and forth in front of my desk. “And what about an attractive veneer? Give me some examples.”

“Staying up late,” someone calls out.

“An affair,” Genevieve chimes in.

“A forbidden relationship.”

Finley’s eyes flicker from Genevieve up toward me as I perch on my desk. They linger on me for a moment, making my stomach feel like it’s doing goddamn gymnastics before looking down at her fingers. As other students sound off around the room, all I can hear are the faint echoes of voices. My ears ring as I continue to examine Ms. Dunaway.

My attractive veneer is her.

I’ve committed many sins in my thirty-four years of life, but none were as enticing as Finley Dunaway. She’s like a flame, an entire inferno. I’d be stupid to step head-first into the roaring blaze. This job is important. This new lease on life is important. Getting away from my past is important . But what if I like the way it burns?