One Night With My Alpha Professor

One Night 67



Chapter 67 Audrey

As I stood in the dimly lit hallway in front of Edwin's apartment door, I couldn't help but wonder if I had made a mistake in accepting his invitation to dinner tonight. It had seemed innocuous enough-his email had stated that it would be a congratulatory dinner for receiving the internship-but now, being here..

For a moment, my hand hovered to knock in front of the wood, I pursed my lips as I looked down at myself. Was I overdressed? Underdressed? Should I run and hide in my dorm, feigning a sudden onset of the flu?

Sighing, I lowered my hand and quickly turned to the nearby full-length mirror hanging at the end of the hallway. Just one last primp wouldn't hurt.

My reflection stared back at me as I smoothed down the front of my deep burgundy sweater dress and ran my fingers through my straightened hair. The dark eyeshadow around my eyes helped the blue color of my irises pop, and the black choker around my throat was subtle and s**y-maybe too s**y for what was supposed to be a casual business dinner. D**it. I should have gone for the trousers and button-down; it would have been much more appropriate than the mini dress and boots. But it was too late now.

Finally, taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door.

A few moments later, it swung open, revealing Edwin in a crisp white shirt and an apron. The sight of him looking so domestic made my face heat up, especially when his gray eyes briefly scanned my body in my dress.

"Audrey," he said, his voice uncharacteristically warm. "Come in. You look lovely."

I felt my cheeks flush even more beneath his praise. "Thank you, I managed, stepping inside. As I did, I held out the bottle of wine I had brought. It wasn't anything fancy-just a cheap red 1 had picked up on the way.

"I, uh, brought this," I said. "I hope it's okay."

Edwin took it and scanned the label for a moment, turning the bottle in his hand. "It looks good. Thank you for bringing it."

As I stepped inside, the smell of cooking food filled my nostrils. Oregano, red pepper, and... Fresh bread? "Something smells amazing," I commented, partially in an attempt to make small talk and ease my frayed nerves.

"I hope you like pasta," Edwin replied, leading me towards the living room. "It's almost ready. Make yourself comfortable while I finish up."

I nodded and made my way to the couch, feg both out of place and comfortable at the same time. I had been here before, after all. The dark leather furniture and mahogany bookshelves were familiar, although he had cleaned since I had last been here. A small fire was even flickering in the fireplace.

"Would you like a glass of wine while you wait?" Edwin called from the kitchen.

"Yes, please," I replied, grateful for something to occupy my hands.

He returned a moment later with a glass for me. As he handed it over, our fingers brushed, although I pretended not to notice. "Thank you."

As Edwin disappeared back into the kitchen, I took the opportunity to look around at the books on the shelves. The sound of pots and pans banging in the kitchen filled the air, and I ran my fingers along the spines of the books.

000:12%0

It was then, however, that my eyes landed on a framed photo on the bookshelf. Furrowing my brow, I leaned in closer. It showed Edwin with a stunning woman with blonde hair and a tall and slender body, both of them smiling at the camera. It looked... intimate. The way his arm was wrapped around her waist, her arm draped around his neck...

My heart sank a little, although I knew it shouldn't.

Did Edwin have someone now? Someone new?

Of course he did. Why wouldn't he?

I was still staring at the photo when a loud crash from the kitchen, followed by Edwin cursing, snapped me out of my thoughts. Without hesitation, I rushed to see what had happened. I found Edwin standing amidst a mess of pasta and sauce on the floor.

"Are you okay?" I asked, stepping into the room with wide eyes.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. "I'm fine. Just clumsy. Now I have to start all over."

Without thinking-1 set down my wine, grabbed an apron hanging nearby, and slipped it on. "I'll help," I offered, already moving to grab paper towels.

"Audrey, you don't have to-

"I want to. Tie me u

up:

Turning, I moved my hair out of the way so he could tie my apron in the back. He paused for a moment, and I could hear a breath come out ragged. Finally, he stepped forward and tied my apron, his fingers brushing against the small of my back as he did so. I resisted the urge to shudder beneath his touch.

When I turned, however, a tiny smile was tugging at his lips.

"What is it?" I asked.

He shook his head. "It's nothing. It's just... That apron is practically swallowing you whole," he teased. "All you need now is an oversized chef's hat to complete the look."

I pursed my lips, looking down at myself. He was right; the apron, clearly sized for Edwin's large body, hung comically large on my frame. It went all the way to my knees. "Laugh all you want," I said, shooting him a half-smirk. "But let's clean up this mess while you're at it."

Together, we cleaned up the mess and started on a new batch of pasta. While the pasta boiled, Edwin made a new pot of sauce and I checked the bread in the oven. It was clear that he had baked it himself. "Fresh baked bread?" I asked as I took the pan out of the oven. "Do you often cook such elaborate meals for your students?" Edwin glanced at me for a moment before shaking his head. "No, you're the first. Consider yourself special

I tried to ignore the flutter in my chest at his words, and instead turned my attention to the pasta. We cooked in silence for a while, the only sounds that of the soft classical music playing on the record player in the other room and the wooden spoon tapping on the side of the saucepan.

Every so often, however, I had to fight the urge to ask about the woman in the photograph. It wasn't my business, not really; but it was hard to ignore the spark of jealousy at the thought.

Edwin, with another woman. And she was beautiful, too.

I should have expected him to find someone. We were never happening, after all, and I had accepted that. So why did it hurt

so bad?

Thankfully, by the time we finished cooking and sat down to eat, the conversation flowed easily. The wine probably helped -we had already finished the bottle I brought and opened another from Edwin's collection.

"This is really good," I said, twirling pasta around my fork. "I'm impressed."

Edwin eyed me over the rim of his wine glass. "Still surprised?" He asked. "Let's not forget that I've cooked for you once already."

My checks reddened at the thought of the night he had cooked me a meal in this very kitchen. "Of course I haven't forgotten," I muttered, quickly looking away.

There was a brief pause as we continued to enjoy the meal. I found my mind once again drifting back to that d**n picture, and so I took another gulp of wine to push it down.

"You know," I blurted out, "I didn't expect to receive a dinner invitation from you. I sort of thought we'd stop talking after... You know."

Edwin paused just as he was about to pop a forkful of pasta into his mouth. Lowering his fork, he said, be my student. And, over the summer. My intern."Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

"You're still going to

I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed at that. Student. Intern. Not at all like the woman in the picture.

Da**it, Audrey, I thought to myself as I continued to eat my pasta. You and Edwin were never going to happen. A student and a professor? A human and an Alpha? Yeah, right. "Audrey?"

The sound of Edwin's voice ripped me out of my reverie, and I snapped my eyes up to see that he was looking at me with his glass slightly raised. "Hm?" I asked, wondering just how long I had been deep in thought.

He raised his glass a bit more and stuck his chin out slightly. "I was trying to make a toast, if you don't mind."

"Oh. Right." Blushing, I grabbed my glass and raised it.

He cleared his throat. "To you, Audrey," he said. "You were a good assistant."

I couldn't help it. My face fell a bit at his words.


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