Shelby's Hot Prof

Shelby's Hot Prof

Running into her hot professor at a party? VERY dangerous... for both.

Three years have passed since the events of Guatemalan Blend, and Marisol talks Mister Mike into hosting a neighborhood party. Let's take a look at some of the people from the neighborhood who attend. Each of them deserves a story.

This is Shelby's story as told by her hot English Lit professor... who happens to live next door? Go figure.

Though this story can stand on its own, I suggest reading my Guatemalan Blend series for context.

Oh, and it's another slow burn. Enjoy.

* * * * * * * * * *

I rang the doorbell precisely at 8 p.m., just like the invitation said. Except I didn't have a "Plus-1" to bring. My ex-wife lived in another state, had no girlfriends, no prospects, and had lived alone for over eight years, so I came to the party alone.

I had no idea what to expect. I've lived on this street since my divorce but didn't know any of my neighbors. The houses were far enough apart and since each one had a pool and privacy walls, there weren't over-the-fence conversations. This guy, Bradley, had a landscaping service do his yard, so there was no 'wave at the neighbor working in their yard' drive-by's, either. I couldn't have picked Michael Bradley out of a line-up.

Not that it was Michael's fault. Long hours at the college, lots of time on my bike, and a general dislike of social situations often kept me away from the rest of the world.

So why come to this party? Dunno. Just felt like... something to do. Something right.

The door opened a few minutes later presenting an incredibly beautiful and very pregnant Latina woman in her mid-twenties. She smiled warmly saying, "Good evening. I'm Marisol. You must be Carson Whitby?" She held out her hand and I shook it gently. I was transfixed in her eyes, large and deep brown, full of feisty fun, and even pregnancy could not hide a beautiful body under her flowing dress. She caught me looking, and gave me a wink, appreciating my unspoken compliment.

Marisol invited me inside, walked me through the living room and dining room, and led me out back to their yard and pool... which was picture perfect. Much larger and more opulent than mine. Mine was functional for swimming laps or having the kids splash in on a sweltering summer afternoon, but theirs was... grand. No other word for it.

Their whole yard was evidence that it was professionally serviced. In addition to the pool, he had a jacuzzi, patio with fireplace and grill and a table large enough for eight, and even a bar area where a young Latin man stood mixing drinks. From the looks of it, he was making pina coladas... and using exceptionally good rum.

Marisol led me to the bar and handed me a drink. I took a sip and said, "Wow."

"Yes, Carlos makes a damn good pina colada," Marisol smiled. "Carlos, this is Carson Whitby from next door. Carlos is my brother and Mister Mike's groundskeeper. He also lives here, so we can't seem to ever get rid of him."

I found that... odd. Her brother lived here too? Kind of... different.

"You couldn't live without me, sis," Carlos replied handing her a drink. "Virgin," he clarified.

"For another two months," Marisol said sipping her drink and patting her belly. She took my arm and led me to the patio where a tall man was chilling wine. "Mister Mike, this is Carson Whitby. Carson, my husband, Mister Mike"

He held out his hand and I shook it, clocking the "Mister Mike" thing but let it slide. Maybe it was a family quirk or a nickname or something personal that just spills over into social settings. He smiled warmly and I couldn't help but see just how handsome he was. Some men just... were. Silver lining the temples and dotting the beard, intelligent eyes, a chiseled chin, and a natural friendliness that made people gravitate to him.

I held out my gift. "I brought a bottle, not that it looks like you'll need it. It's a pinot noir from Oregon."

Michael laughed, and for a moment I thought he was going to make fun of a wine from Oregon. Instead, he showed me the bottle of Chardonnay he was putting on ice: from the same vineyard in Oregon. "Seems we have similar tastes in wine, Carson."

"That is crazy," I said. "Small world after all. And their Chardonnay is wonderful, a good dessert wine."

"And our favorite," Marisol added. "Or will be again soon."

Michael gave her a loving look and pulled her close to kiss her nose. Even five minutes in, I could feel it - the kind of love that warms a room like morning sun. Definite age difference, but neither one of them cared. They gazed at each other as if there wasn't another person on earth. It was the kind of love you don't see often. The kind that makes you wonder what you missed... and whether it's too late to find it.

"Don't you two ever stop?" said a voice from behind me.

I turned to see two strikingly beautiful young women approaching. The speaker was a younger version of Marisol... definitely her sister, and was wearing a black, sparkling evening dress, strapless accentuating her ample and curvaceous bust as well as the curve of her hips and ass. It stopped at mid-thigh, giving a tantalizing view of long, smooth legs, and gold stiletto heels to match. She wore it like she knew exactly how good she looked.

The second girl was shorter than the other, with blonde hair, an athletic body, and a shocked expression as she saw me. I had seen this girl nearly every day for the past three years, since she took at least one class a semester from me, and I have never seen her looking so... exquisite. Her hair was pulled up in an elegant up-do, her white sparkling dress, the twin to her friend's, also highlighting her tanned skin, her muscular shoulders, and legs. She looked... radiant. Confident in a way I'd never seen in class. I felt horrible for staring... but I could not tear my eyes away from such a gorgeous woman.

She finally gasped, "Dr. Whitby!" She began nervously adjusting her dress.

"Sh-Shelby Winters," I stammered. "I'm... It's good to see you." In my shock, I fumbled my words, feeling like an idiot.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I... live next door, actually."

"Really? I had no idea!!! That's incredible!"

"What were you saying about small worlds, Carson?" Michael asked, stepping up beside me. "I guess you know Shelby?"

"She's in my Victorian Lit class," I said, and I heard a muffled snort from behind me. Glancing around, I saw Marisol failing to mask a laugh. Confused, I turned back to Shelby. "I haven't ever seen you outside of class, so this is... You look wonderful."

Her eyes danced. "Thanks, Dr. Whitby. You clean up rather good yourself. Hung up the tweed, I see?" She smiled as she touched my lapel, and I could have sworn her fingers were trembling.

"And what's wrong with tweed?" I asked, putting on a pompous, old British voice.

Shelby giggled, and my world seemed to ring with the sound. God, what was happening to me?

"Is he always like this?" Marisol's sister asked as she handed her a pina colada. "Here. Leaded. We're twenty-one now. Mister Mike said it was okay."

"Pretty much," Shelby answered, still laughing. "You should hear him read Emily Dickinson."

"Hurtful," I chided.

"Dr. Whitby--"

"Carson," I corrected. "We're not in class, so... Carson."

Shelby's breath hitched. "Carson... this is my friend, Maria. She's Marisol's sister."

"Yes, I thought so." I turned to the man at the bar. "There is definitely a resemblance."

"Some say we could be twins, right Mister Mike?" She actually winked at her sister's husband, who just good-naturedly laughed.

"I hope..." I stammered. God, why was I so flustered? I didn't realize I sucked so badly at social functions. Or maybe it was Shelby. I'd spent years keeping a professional distance. Now, after one glance, it was all unraveling. I tried changing the subject. "Can I ask about this 'Mister Mike' thing?"

"Marisol called him that when she was his housekeeper," Shelby answered, totally non-plussed.

"And we all just kept it," Maria added. "Even Carlos."

"Even me," Shelby added.

I looked over at Mister Mike who just smiled and shrugged. "What can you do?"

Marisol was looking at me with a bit of apprehension, as if anticipating... something from me. Glancing around, I realized that Maria had the same expression. Did they think I would judge them. He was now married to a woman who used to be his housekeeper. And apparently, her brother and possibly his sister both live there with them. Definitely an odd situation, but who was I to criticize? A divorced misanthrope with zero social skills. No judgement from me.

Instead, I held up my drink. "To small worlds."

Everyone repeated the toast, and Shelby clinked my glass before we drank, her eyes gazing at me over her beverage. She'd given me that look in class before--curious, intense. But tonight, it felt different. Like she saw something in me I hadn't dared to show. Her soft, blue eyes... that reflected the patio lights in dazzling and dancing...

I blinked and snapped out of it. It must be strong rum because it seemed to be going right to my brain.

Luckily for me, some other guests arrived just at that moment, and Mister Mike (I guess I will join the crowd on that one) and Marisol moved to greet them. I followed them at a discreet distance, feeling like I should meet them as well, since I hadn't ever met these neighbors either... or any neighbors.

"Oh my god, is he?" I heard Maria whisper not so subtly behind me. I heard someone, probably Shelby, try to shush her, but Maria went on. "You're right. He IS fucking hot."

I went rigid. What was that? Fucking hot? I wasn't supposed to hear that, but I did. Was she talking to Shelby? Did Shelby think... I took a deep breath and drove the thought from my head. She's a student, she's young, she's... oh so beautiful.

I felt the heat rise in my chest. This wasn't just rum--it was her.

SHIT! Stop it!

Having made their own introductions I stepped forward, out of earshot of the two young women behind me, and met Bruce and Tara, a couple my own age, and Bella, who was staying with them for a while. Bella didn't look much older than Shelby... oh, and Maria... and was also lovely to look at. Soft pale skin, a lovely figure, pink hair pinned up in a stylish beehive updo, a vintage pink dress, and pink rabbit ears - which seemed out of place from the pinup icon motif, but to each their own. She lingered behind Bruce and Tara, clearly shy, and never strayed far from them.

I stood and spoke to the couple for a few minutes, getting to know them, but my mind and my eyes kept drifting over toward Shelby. I'd catch her staring back once in a while, and one time she even gave me a small, embarrassed wave.

Another couple arrived, Travis and his stepdaughter Clarissa. Clarissa's mom was out of town on business, but they wanted a chance to meet the neighbors as well. Travis was a tall, handsome man who obviously spent a good deal of time at the gym. Very muscular and broad. The kind of CrossFit-cut guy that made cyclists like me feel puny by comparison.

Clarissa was stunning. She moved about the yard naturally and gracefully, and though she had never met Maria or Shelby before, naturally gravitated toward them, and the trio seemed to strike up a quick friendship.

Being alone most of the time, I'm very much a people watcher. It's fascinating to me to view groups like this like the proverbial fly on the wall and just "see."

For example, I noticed Bella's demeanor significantly changed when Clarissa arrived. It was clear they had never met, but Bella definitely recognized her... and from the look on her face, really wanted to go fangirl. Maybe Clarissa was famous? How would I know?

In spite of her fascination with Clarissa, Bella also seemed to keep at least a hand on either Bruce or Tara, and usually both. She was always touching their arm, shoulder, back, or hand. Bruce and Tara would place their own hand on hers when they could, a reassuring and comforting gesture, and also one of profound tenderness as they would sometimes caress her fingers with theirs.

I also saw Mister Mike and Maria exchange a few soft touches and even a tender kiss or two, and not a brother-sister kiss, either. Receiving her own share of caresses and kisses, Marisol just watched them and smiled, as if this were an everyday occurrence. Judging by how comfortable they were around each other, it probably WAS an everyday occurrence.

Travis mingled among the older people, but his eyes kept following Clarissa. It wasn't a predatory look, but a fondness, remarkably similar to the looks Mister Mike gave both Maria and Marisol.

Each group was bound together, even during those times when they were across the room. Eyes would lock on to their partners, air-kisses blown across the yard, acknowledging waves over heads, gestures that were only meant for one person.

And then there was me. I wasn't lonely, exactly. Just... unclaimed. Watching everyone else find their orbit while I drifted. I didn't have a partner to watch from across the table, or someone to touch, or got a wave just for me...

Or... did I?

Shelby. I caught her more than once watching me, saw her wave at me from the bar, felt her shakily touch my lapel. I guess being the outsiders... we had each other.

Even Carlos had someone, though he started the evening alone at the bar. A strikingly beautiful young woman the same age as Maria and Shelby arrived and practically hung off Carlos as he tended bar. His girlfriend no doubt.

So, yes. Shelby and I seemed to make our own little group of outsiders. Unspoken and unplanned.

Naturally, I found myself drifting toward Shelby's spot by the jacuzzi where she was speaking with Maria, Carlos, and Carlos' girlfriend.

"Dr. Whitby... Carson," she corrected as she saw me approaching. "Come join us."

"I don't mean to intrude," I said. "I was just making my way over to sample some of Mister Mike's Chardonnay."

Maria set her drink down on a nearby table. "I'll get it for you." She gave Shelby a knowing side glance that I didn't quite understand, but that hinted at a playful tease at her friend. Shelby just shook her head in amused aggravation.

"Victoria is Carlos' plus one," Shelby explained.

"Shelby was just saying you're her professor?" Carlos asked, a wicked grin on his face. Apparently, there was some joke here, probably at Shelby's expense, of which I was an unknowing participant.

I decided to just play dumb and go along with it. "I've had her in at least one class every semester since her first year. Did I get that right, Shelby?"

Shelby nodded, her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "Ummm... yes. I, er... Let's see... there was College Writing for two semesters, Intro to Lit, Modern Poetry, Shakespeare's Tragedies AND Comedies, American Lit, and now Victorian Lit."

"And Shelby wrote one of the best papers about Social Dynamics inMacBethI've ever read," I added. "It was published inOther People, the UCSD Literary Magazine. Did she tell you that?"

"No, she didn't," Maria said handing me a glass of wine. "That's wonderful, Shelby. Why didn't you say anything?"

"It... wasn't a big deal," Shelby's cheeks became even more red as her blushing grew.

"It really wasn't that big of deal," I confirmed voice, dripping with sarcasm. "I mean... less than 5 percent of the submissions even get considered for publication, and VERY few of them from undergraduates. So, really... Nothing to brag about."

The group looked at me, as if I were transparent, and my insides were leaking out. Carlos was outright laughing and tried to hide it behind his drink.

I ignored them and addressed Shelby. "That paper was amazing... seriously. You have real talent. Alas," I sighed heavily and dramatically. "Wasted in HR."

"You remember that?" Shelby whispered.

"Well... yeah. Always wondered how to convert you to the Church of English Lit. Have you heard about our Lord and Savior, Walt Whitman?"

"He's American," retorted Shelby, jokingly.

"All I could think of at the moment," I replied, and we both shared a laugh.

No one else joined in.

Now both of us turned a shade of red.

There was an awkward pause before Maria said, "Carlos... can you make me another pina colada?"

Carlos shrugged and Maria, Victoria and Carlos wandered off toward the bar, leaving Shelby and I alone.

"I mean it, Shelby," I said breaking the quietness between us. "You have a real talent. I have no doubt you will be tremendously successful in business... in anything you want. You have an amazing mind."

She blushed even deeper. "Thank you, Dr. Whitby."

I cleared my throat, searching for a different subject. "I see you all got your dresses at the same time?" I pointed to Maria and Victoria, each wearing a dress identical to Shelby's. "Black, navy blue, and yours is white?"

"Marisol wanted to get one in red, but..."

"That might be a little uncomfortable for her," and we both laughed. "When is she due?"

"Due?" Shelby asked, her eyes going wide. "Did you think she was pregnant?"

Flummoxed, I started sputtering a sort of non-committed apology, but Shelby started laughing.

"I'm kidding. She is pregnant. Sorry. It's just too easy to mess with people about that."

"I'm sure," I said, trying to recover.

"You're cute when you're flustered," Shelby said.

The air between us shifted. Not heavy but charged. Like something had been said that couldn't be unsaid. I felt the words land like a spark - unexpected, electric, and far too welcome.

Then realizing what just came out of her mouth, her eyes went wide, and she stammered, "Oh, god... I-I'm sorry... Dr. Whitby... I just... Oh, god... it must be the... drink." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, eyes darting anywhere but mine.

I held up a hand to try and reassure her, but my heart was pounding in my chest. "I-it's all right, Shelby. Just... one of those things, right?"

Shelby couldn't answer so just nodded. She turned away from me, unable to meet my eyes. She muttered something about getting back to Maria and fled. Yep, she fled, too mortified to continue talking to me.

I watched her go, heart still hammering, wondering if I'd just crossed a line - or if she had.

Marisol came over at that moment, beaming a radiant and infectious smile. "How are you enjoying the party, professor?" she asked. I thought the choice of honorific was unusual, but I let it go.

"F-fine. Your house is really lovely, Mrs. Bradley. The yard is very well laid out."

She giggled. "Marisol. I didn't take my husband's name, so I guess I'm still Marisol Flores, but thank you. Carlos does an incredible job."

"Your brother AND landscaper?"

Marisol nodded. "And Maria is Mister Mike's Business Manager. It's funny, but we all work for him. I still do, actually. Worked here for almost a year before... before I fell head over heels in love with him."

"And he with you, it seems."

"Yes, indeed. And he loves our family. We all live and work here... and are incredibly happy."

"That... is evident. You're lucky. To have family so close and so loved. It's wonderful to see."

"Thank you, professor." She looked at me with a curious expression. "Shelby is also close to us. A sister in everything but blood."

"That makes sense," I replied, looking over at Shelby, who averted her eyes as soon as I looked.

"She is very special to us," Marisol continued. "Anyone would be lucky to have her in their life."

I kept looking at Shelby, taking in her pulled-up blonde hair, her shapely shoulders, her radiant skin. After a brief moment of admiring her youthful beauty, I came back to myself and was able to answer. "She is a very intelligent young woman." It sounded lame, even to me, but it was all I had at the moment.