My Professor Is My Alpha Mate

Lila's POV

Today was the big day; my art piece was going to be shown to hundreds of people and I had never been more nervous in my entire life.

My heart was racing rapidly in my chest as I stared myself over in the mirror that hung in my dorm room.

I wore a casual evening gown and kept my hair down and slightly curled at the bottoms. I wanted a more business casual look. Rachel wore her usual ripped jeans and black gaming blouse with her pixie-style hair dyed purple.

I liked her style; it was the opposite of my style and I think that's why we got along so well.

I pressed the palm of my hands to my stomach, feeling a wave of nausea forming in my throat. "Are you excited?” Rachel asked with a wide grin.

“I'm terrified,” I admitted. “And also, a little guilty... I just wish Becca could be here too.”

"Don't feel guilty. What happened to her wasn't your fault. Plus, she’s going to be fine. She woke up yesterday, remember?” Rachel reminded me.

It was true that Becca was going to be okay, and I was relieved to hear that when my father called me yesterday. It could have been bad. It also seems as though she has no memory of what happened.

“You'll have to take a lot of pictures for her,” Rachel said with a shrug. “I'm sure she would love to see them.”

“Yeah, I'm planning on visiting her later this evening,” I said, turning away from the mirror. “I want to see for myself that she’s truly okay.”

“I can come with you if you'd like.”

I shake my head, giving her a thankful smile.

“I think it's something I need to do by myself,” I tell her.

She nods with understanding as she stands from her bed.

"We should go to the exhibit though. It's starting soon and everybody is probably already there,” she said casually. She draped an arm through mine and pulled me alongside her.

His face was hard to read, but that part wasn't what surprised me.

What surprised me was the fact that he dressed up.

Was he dressed up for me?

Was he here to support me?

"Of course, he is!" Val cooed.

We hadn't talked since before I heard him and Connie talking in the arena the other day. A knot formed in my stomach at the very thought of it.

I didn't realize my father had already walked away until Enzo was directly in front of me.

“I'm surprised you came,” I said, trying not to sound too awkward.

"I figured I should, considering it's my picture that hanging up,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. I felt my face reddening under the intensity of his stares.

“Right,” I said with a light chuckle.

“Becca is going to be okay, in case you were wondering,” Enzo said, eyeing me carefully. He didn't sound angry, but he didn't sound pleased either.

“I heard,” I tell him. “I'm going to visit her later.”

“Probably a good idea,” he agreed. “She doesn't remember anything that happened.”

I nodded, indicating that I knew that part too.

I couldn't stand this awkward talk anymore; the memory of Connie invaded my mind every time I saw him, and it was destroying me on the inside.

I cleared my throat and turned away from him.

“If you'll excuse me, I'm going to mingle with others,” I say to him as I walk through the crowd of people.

Enzo's POV

For most of the night, Lila seemed to not have noticed me. Her painting of me hung beautifully on the featured wall, and she was talking with a bunch of others, including those I recognized as her friends and family.

But she wouldn't look in my direction at all.

I don't know why I found that to be incredibly irritating

I shouldn't want her attention, but I certainly didn't want her to ignore me either.

She had finally glanced over in my direction, but it was only briefly. Soon, she was walking through the crowd of people, and I couldn't help but follow her this time.

Max was going crazy not being around her and I worried I would soon lose control of him.

She walked around the corner and into the women’s bathroom.

What am I thinking? I asked myself as I checked behind me to make sure nobody was looking as I too shoved my way into the women’s room.

She was standing in the mirror, breathing heavily, and meeting her own eyes. She was alone in the bathroom, thankfully. I wasn't sure how I would explain why I was in the women’s room to anyone else if they were to see me.

She noticed me quickly and she looked shocked to see me standing before her.

Before she could open her mouth and utter a single question, I was rushing toward her, lifting her onto the sink, her legs wrapped around me, and her pelvis pressed against mine; I firmly pressed my lips against hers.