Welcome to Mythology of Mating Rituals. An unnecessary class. A distracting professor. So why can’t Nolan Baker stay away?

Nolan
My academic career has been both successful and orderly so far, which was pleasantly predictable given that I mapped out a plan for it while still in middle school and have followed that plan ever since. Well, except for this year, my last one before graduation from Preston College. I really have no explanation for why I enrolled in Professor Grayson’s Mythology of Mating Rituals class.

I don’t need the credit. It’s not required for my major. I certainly have no personal interest in studying fated mate legends when that sort of nonsense is completely irrelevant to the real world. And yes, okay, maybe I do know why I enrolled, but an infatuation with a teacher who I’ve never personally spoken to and yet can’t seem to stop thinking about simply doesn’t make sense…and I really don’t care for things that don’t make sense.

Especially when those things are me.

Gray
I’ve been teaching hormone-ridden college students about mating rituals for the last decade, and given the explicit nature of so many of the fated mate myths we study, it really isn’t any surprise that a fair number of my students come on to me each semester…usually with the eager and breathless conviction that the “connection” they feel between us must mean that I’m their fated mate.

Ridiculous, since I’m teaching mythology, not reality, and of course inappropriate, too. I would never get involved with a student that way. At least, that’s what I always told myself before Nolan Baker enrolled in my class. The beautiful boy is pure temptational torture. Thankfully, he kept to himself and I was able to keep my hands off him, and now the semester is over.

I should be feeling relieved that I won’t see him again…not pulling him into my office at the first available opportunity and bending him over my desk.