Read And The Beat Goes On Online

Authors: Abby Reynolds

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BOOK: And The Beat Goes On
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Chapter Seven


Jeremy Clearwater

I was
looking forward to my next class. And I could figure out why.

What would she be wearing? Was she attracted to me? Or did s
he think I was a greedy asshole? I couldn’t gleam anything from her by watching her face. I wanted to know everything about this girl. Her likes and dislikes, her beliefs, her source of joy. Because I couldn’t have her, I wanted her more. I was like a child.

The students filed in and took their seats. Then Athena arrived.

Wearing tight leggings and boots, she gracefully moved to her seat. She wore a loose tan sweater and her hair cascaded over her shoulders. I longed to feel those strands. I wanted to eye her ass in the tights but the opportunity never arose.

She sat in a different seat. There was no seating chart but student
s tend to pick a specific spot for the semester. Why did she move?

Then the blond guy came inside and scanned the crowd. When he found her, he moved to the seat beside her. Athena glanced at him then looked away. He took t
he seat and engaged her in conversation. All her responses were short.

Interesting…

I leaned against my desk and observed their interaction. Students started to watch me, noticing my obvious interest in Athena. I finally turned away and pretended to be disinterested in everything around me.

I decided to have a pop quiz. It was easy and wasn’t worth a grade but the students wouldn’t know that. Actually, the quiz was just for my benefit.

Because I was a sick control freak.

“Pop quiz,”
I announced. “Put your stuff away.”

Their eyes widened in alarm. It was only the second session, and I was drilling them hard. Panic coursed through the crowd.

I smiled, enjoying the reaction. “Just concentrate and you’ll do fine.” I went to each row and handed out the papers. Then I watched Athena while everyone grabbed their quiz and read through the questions.

She was the only one who didn’t seem nervous. She crossed her legs then gripped her pencil. She was a lefty. Her back was straight in her chair and
her hair fell over one shoulder. The guy next to her looked like he might have a heart attack.

I walked back to my seat and stared at Athena. None of the students paid any attention to me. All they cared about was their grade, which didn’t mean shit. When jobs hired interns, good marks mattered. But in the end, they didn’t make a difference. Most of the intelligent people I worked with didn’t have a formal education. And they were smart as hell.

After they finished their quizzes, I collected them. I was interested in Athena’s exam more than all the others. I put them in pairs and asked them to complete an assignment based on our previous lecture. They put their heads together and started to work, leaving me forgotten.

I leafed through the quizzes until I found hers. Just holding the paper excited me.

Her name and answers were written in cursive. While it was beautiful and feminine, it was legible. I went through the essay questions and read her responses. They weren’t regurgitated responses from her notes or me. They were genuine and unique.

This girl was smart.

If she was at Cambridge, obviously, she was intelligent. But I was surprised at how well versed she was. My interest piqued, I decided to abuse my power as a professor. I went onto the school website, logged in, and then typed her name.

According to her information, she was a senior. That was good news for me. At least she didn’t just turn eighteen, not that I would care, really. She grew up in London and came here directly out of secondary education.

Then I looked at her grades. Her marks were ridiculously perfect. She had an A in every course, including a physics class. But then I noticed something else. Her major was business but she had a heavy load of artistic courses. Sculpture, oil painting, art history, dance, advanced acting, guitar, and piano were just some of the classes she took.

Hmm…what was that about?

She exceeded the number of units for graduation, but she hadn’t claimed her fine arts degree. Now I was even more interested in her. What was she doing? I closed the screen then finished grading the quizzes. When the class was over, the students filed out.

I stood up and cleared my throat. “Athena, could I see you for a moment?”

She stilled as she grabbed her bag. Our eyes met and my spine shivered.

How did she do that?

The blond guy leaned toward her and whispered something.

I was starting to hate this guy.

Finally, everyone left and she descended the stairs toward me. With every footstep, I became more nervous. My heart accelerated and slammed into my chest. I stared at her face and counted the number of eyelashes. Her eyes were starling green, hypnotizing. I was nervous as hell, which never happened. I leaned against the desk and gripped the edge, balancing myself. I controlled my breathing so she wouldn’t notice the effect she had on me

Her sweater hung off one shoulder, revealing the perfect skin underneath. I glanced at it and noticed the slightly darkened skin. She looked tan despite the cold weather. Perhaps she traveled this past summer. But I kept looking at it, wondering how it would taste.

When she was near me, I got a waft of her scent. It was light and not overbearing like most women. It hinted of lavender in spring. I took a deep breath and savored it. Who knew when I would be close to her again?

She stopped and stared at me, waiting for me to speak. I forgot I was actually supposed to talk to her. If I had my way, I’d just stare at her the entire time—among other things.

I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Normally, women couldn’t hide their attraction to me. It was obvious in the way they carried themselves, how they looked at me, their reaction to my words and movements. With Athena, I had no idea. Maybe I was just an annoying teacher to her. Or maybe she wanted to fuck me right on top of my desk. I had no idea.

“Yes, Mr. Clearwater?” Her voice was deep like it was before. It was distinctly feminine, but not high-pitched like most.

“I wanted to talk to you about your quiz.” I stood up straight and put my hands in my pockets. I stared directly into her face, never looking away. I didn’t even want to blink because I didn’t want to miss anything.

I was being extremely direct and blunt with her. My intense gaze bore into hers, telling her I was in charge. If I wanted her, I’d get her. I waited for her to look away but she never did. She held my gaze and didn’t flinch. She wasn’t intimidated.

And I liked that.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Actually, I was very impressed with your answers.”

“Oh.” She adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “In what way?”

“Your answers were very unique. I was curious where you learned economics on such a deep level.”

“My father owns a business. I’ve been working with him since I was sixteen.”

That explained a lot. “What kind of business?”

“A small one. He sells and installs carpet. He has a few places
around the city. It’s not an empire like yours.” A slight smile was on her lips.

You’re going to be a part of that empire.
“Having direct experience is extremely useful. I’m sure that will give you an edge when you graduate.”

“Not if I stay there,” she said bitterly.

I noted the change in her tone. “Why would you?”

She shook her head. “My dad wants me to take it over.”

“You don’t want to?”

“No.”

This girl kept my interest at every turn.
“Then what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.”

Hmm… “I noticed your transcripts.  You’ve taken more art classes than business classes, yet business is your major. Why is that?”

She eyed me. “Why were you looking at that?”

Why was I? Quick, think of a response.
“I like to know the background of my students. I can determine the ones who will succeed and the ones who will fail.”

“And which one am I?”

I stepped closer to her, my movement automatic. “I don’t know yet.”

She didn’t step back.

“May I ask why you’re interested in the fine arts?”

“I love them,” she said immediately. “It makes me happy.”

Now I was confused. “Then why are you getting a degree in business?”

“Because my father is forcing me. But he can’t stop me from taking the classes I enjoy.”

“Like is too short to live for other people,” I said. “What do you want to do?”

She ran her fingers from the top of her scalp to the end of her hair. “Nothing.”

Nothing?
“You don’t want to work?”

“No.”

I couldn’t keep up. “You want to be a housewife?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “If you do what you love, you never have to work a day in your life. If I had the freedom to do what I wished, I’d write, paint, act, join a Shakespeare group and travel the world performing. I’d set up a table on the pier and sell my paintings. I’d write plays and direct them.” Her fingers played with the strand before she
dropped her arm to her side. “I’m not sure why I’m telling you this…”

“Because I asked.”

She crossed her arms over her chest then avoided my gaze.

But I didn’t stop staring at her. Now I was obsessed with her. She was interesting, talented, passionate…beautiful. She was unlike other girls I met. She had a hippie attitude, but she was headstrong and mature.

Athena started looking at different areas in the room. Now I was intimidating her, but for once, I didn’t want to. My usual tactics wouldn’t work on her. “You have a beautiful name.”

She looked at me. “Thank you.”

“And where does it derive from?”

“My family is Greek.”

I nodded. “Your skin is dark, but not dark enough to make me suspect that.”

“I’m also Welsh. I have a very interesting mixture.”

“What was your mother?”

“She was Greek. And beautiful.”

I noted the past tense. “Is she no longer with you?”

Her eyes saddened. “No.”

Why? What happened? Wait. Why did I care? I just wanted to fuck this girl and be done with it.

But she was a student. This was dangerous and stupid. I let my desires control my mind and I got carried away. I was a man that always got what I wanted, but in this case, it wouldn’t work out. I’d have to wait until the end of the semester until I got between her legs. But getting to know her made me want her even more.

The next class started to file in.

No. I wanted more time with her.

Athena looked over her shoulder then turned back to me. “I should get going. Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Clearwater.”

“You’re very bright. You’ll be successful in anything you pursue.” I didn’t know her well enough to make such a comment, but I meant it anyway. She was a special woman. Her confidence and maturity was u
nique. She was classy and elegant. And her beauty was unparalleled.

And I wanted her.

Chapter Eight


Athena Riley

“Jasper won’t leave me alone.” I sipped my beer then looked at the TV. Heather and I were decked out in our Manchester United gear. Neither one of us could afford a ticket so we decided to head to the local pub.

“What do you mean?” Heather asked. She was already on her second beer even though we’d only been there for twenty minutes.

“He keeps popping up everywhere I go. And he keeps asking for another date.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Heather asked. “I thought you really liked this guy?”

“I did but then he fucked some other girl immediately afterwards. He only wanted me for sex.”

“Then why is he trying so hard now?”

“I have no idea. But I’m not interested.”

Heather yelled at the screen when Beckham scored. “Jasper is really hot. I’d sleep with him in a heartbeat—if you hadn’t claimed him first, of course.”

“You can have him.”

Heather eyed me. “So what if he just wanted to get laid? Athena, you need to loosen up a bit.”

“Loosen up?” I asked incredulously.

“You had sex with one guy your entire life and you’re going to graduate soon. Not every relationship is a fairy-tale. It’s okay to fuck someone’s brains out then never speak to them again.”

That wasn’t me. “I just can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“I want to have some sort of connection to the person. We don’t have to get married but I would like to have some sort of emotion.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “Orgasms are good for you. You should have one on a daily basis.”

Now we were just getting into awkward territory. “Don’t worry about my personal life. I’m just irritated Jasper won’t leave me alone. I made it clear I’m not interested and won’t ever be interested. I don’t open my legs to just anybody.”

“And the one guy you did turned out to be a jackass,” she snapped.

Thanks for hanging that over my head.
I sipped my beer and ignored her comment. When a commercial came on, I examined everyone in the bar. A few tables were filled with Manchester United fans. A few people at the bar weren’t facing the TV. Instead, they sipped their drinks.

When I saw a man that looked like Mr. Clearwater, I realized I was hallucinating. Every since the conversation I had with him last week, I’d been thinking about him often. I wondered about his physique under his suit. I wondered why he wanted to speak to me after class. I
felt dirty being attracted to my teacher but I couldn’t help it. He was a little arrogant and cocky, but I was still drawn to him. I shook my head and looked again.

He was still there.

And he was staring me down, just like he did in class. Okay, it really was him. I looked away and played it cool. Even if I wanted to talk to him, I’d have no idea what to say. And I’m sure the last thing he wanted was to talk to a student outside the classroom. It didn’t seem like he cared about the class anyway.

Heather finished her second beer then pushed aside the empty glass. “I got the first and second round. You get the third.”

Umm…that meant I had to go to the bar—and Mr. Clearwater was there. “How about you get this one and I’ll get the next one?”

Heather eyed me.  “Come on, Athena. I went the last two times.”

I wanted to tell her about my teacher but that would be awkward. I would sound slutty. “Fine.” I left our table and approached the bar. I made sure I didn’t look at Mr. Clearwater. If he knew I was interested in him, he’d probably be extremely uncomfortable.

The bartender finally noticed me and took my order. I still didn’t look at Mr. Clearwater. Fortunately, there was a TV directly in front of me so I looked at that instead.

I felt an arm brush against mine. There was plenty of space on either side of me, so I knew it was intentional.

“Manchester fan?” he asked.

I knew who it was. I controlled my anxiety. “Yes. You?”

“I’d be shot if I weren’t.” He stood beside me, his beer in front of him.

I smiled. “Good point. How are you?”

“Well. I’m enjoying my day off. You?”

“I’m well.” I waited for my bartender to hurry. Why was he taking his time? He was helping other people like my order was forgotten.

He scooted closer to me, his arm touching mine. The heat from his body radiated into me. I felt like I was standing directly next to the sun. I sneaked a glance at him and saw the stubble of his jaw. His blue eyes were focused on the TV, so I stared at their beauty. They were light, just like the sky. He towered over me with his height, making me feel small. I tried not to be intimidated by him but I was.

“Are you enjoying my class?”

If I didn’t, I obviously couldn’t say that.

He smiled, reading my mind. “You can speak freely.”

“It’s definitely not a traditional class.”

“Meaning?” He drank from his glass then returned it to the counter.

“It’s hard to study for. We’re trained to take notes, memorize the information, and then repeat it on a test.”

He nodded. “That’s exactly why I didn’t teach it that way. A businessman can’t follow the same protocol and expect to be successful. You have to think outside the box, find different ways of learning and producing results. Believe me, you’ll thank me later.”

“I don’t think the students are paying a fortune for an unorthodox education.”

“Then they won’t make a fortune,” he said simply.

He had a point.

“Now, what do you think about my class?”

Didn’t I answer that?

“And don’t beat around the bush.”

“I like it—for the most part.”

His eyes narrowed. “And what don’t you like—for the most part?”

“Mainly, the first thing you said.”

“I say a lot of things. Be more specific.” His voice came out assertive. I could tell he was a control freak.

“You said we’re all there for one reason.
To make money. I don’t agree with that.”

“You don’t want to make money?” He raised an eyebrow. Even when he looked incredulous, he looked sexy. His face had a slight curve to his cheeks, making them appear hollow. His lips were thin and curved. I wondered if they were soft. His brown hair had a slight curl to it. I wondered how it would feel in my fingers.

“I don’t want to be poor, but I don’t necessarily want to make money either.”

“You want nice things, don’t you? A roof over your head, a nice car, a retirement.”

“All you care about is money. There are more important things in life.”
Shit. Did I just say that?
It came out of my mouth so quickly. I really wish I could pull my foot out of my mouth.

“That’s what you think?” Even though his voice was low and controlled, I knew he was angry.

“Am I wrong?” I didn’t see how he could challenge that statement based on everything he said.

“Money is important to me. But I do care about other things. Don’t judge me before you know me.”

“I’m sorry…”

I expected him to leave but he didn’t. He stayed beside me, still gripping his glass.

“What other things do you care about?” I asked quietly.

“My friends and family.”

“Are you married?” I really wanted to know but couldn’t think of an appropriate time to ask. But now seemed like the best time.

“No.”

“Do you have any kids?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Then what family are you referring to?”

“My sister.”

Was that all the family he had? “You’re close?”

“She’s one of my closest friends. We’re close in age.”

“What does she do?”

He changed the subject. “Is that blond guy your boyfriend?”

Blond guy? “Who?”

“That guy you always sit next to in class.”

That was an odd question. “Why do you care?” I blurted.

“Why do you care if I’m married?” He stared me down, the intensity returning.

I didn’t have a response to that, at least an appropriate one.

“Is he your boyfriend?” he repeated. He studied my face.

“No.”

The intensity died down. “I see.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Since we were asking personal questions, I decided to go with it.

“No.” He turned his body and faced me, almost pinning me to the counter. We were closer than we were a moment before. My heart raced in my chest because of the proximity. “Nothing is happening between you?”

I just said he wasn’t my boyfriend. “No…”

“Because he seems to be into you.”

“How would you know?” I blurted.

“I observe people.” That was all he said. And it was an odd response. “So, is he?”

“Umm…”

“He is.” It wasn’t a question.

I was getting too uncomfortable. Mr. Clearwater was too close to me. His face was close to mine, blocking me in. I couldn’t get away, and a part of me didn’t want to.  “I…I should go.” Forget about the damn drinks. “My friend is waiting for me.”

He glanced at
my old table. “She looks busy.”

When I looked at Heather, I saw her cuddled close to a guy. His arm
was around her shoulders and he was whispering with her. Judging by her hand on his thigh and the smile on her lips, I knew she didn’t want to be bothered.

“Let’s sit at my table.” Before I could respond, he put his hand on my waist and guided me to the secluded booth. As soon as his hand touched me
, my breathing hitched. His hand felt warm through my shirt. And it was large against my back, almost spanning me.

After we sat down in the booth, he nodded to someone in the corner. A man appeared at our table. “Athena, what would you like?”

“Umm…”
Was this guy his butler?
“I’ll have a white wine.”

He nodded then retrieved the glass. After he placed it in front of me, he disappeared.

“Who was that?”

“My driver.” He stared at me like I was supposed to say something.

“Oh.” I sipped the wine because I didn’t know what to do. Mr. Clearwater made me nervous. I lost my voice. And that never happened before. I wasn’t easily intimidated.

Mr. Clearwater stared me down. “Are you a triple threat?”

Huh? “Sorry?”

“You dance, play music, and create art?”

Oh. “I can dance, play a few chords on the guitar and piano, sing, and I love to sketch, draw, and paint.”

He nodded. “You sound very talented.”

I shrugged. “I do it because I like it. I never said I was good at any of that.”

He smiled. “I doubt that for some reason.”

Now that we were close, I could smell his cologne. It was faint and musky. I wanted to lean closer and get a better sniff.

But that was creepy…

“Do you put your talent to use?”  We sat in front of the TV but neither one of us watched it.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you in a band? Do you sell your artwork? Are you in a school play?”

“I’m not in
a band,” I said quickly. “The life of rock n’ roll isn’t for me. But I’ve made a few sketches for comic books.”

His eyes widened. “Which ones?”

“Mainly Batman. They would pay me to create the images while they made the words.”

“Is there good money in that?”

“No. I pretty much did it for free.”

“I’d love to see one.”

Did he really? Should I offer…?
I decided to say nothing.

“Do you paint?”

“Yes. I’m selling one at the auction next weekend.”

He adjusted his tie while he stared at me. “And what’s that?”

“We sell our paintings to the highest bidder. And the winner gets an evening with the artist to ask questions about their work. My teacher encouraged me to enter it even though I doubt anyone will want it.”

“Why do you say that?”

I shrugged. “I just don’t think I’m very good.”

He drank from his beer but didn’t comment.

I eyed his expensive suit. I’d never seen him wear anything else. “Why do you always wear a suit?”

“I don’t.”

“I’ve seen you in nothing else.”

“Would you like to see me in something else?”

Uh….what? What did that mean? Was I reading too much into it?

“I like how you dress.”

Me?
“Thank you…”

“You dress classy. I like it.”

My cheeks blushed. Damn! Why did he keep doing this to me?

“Do you work anywhere?” he asked.

“Just for my dad.”
Phew. Now we were on safe territory
.

“Have you considered modeling?”

BOOK: And The Beat Goes On
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