Rosie
The weekend air in the café was thick with the smell of roasted beans and the chatter of Saturday customers. I moved behind the counter, clearing tables and steaming milk. It had been three days since Professor Ashton last messaged me. Three days of peace. I finally felt like I could breathe again. I was convinced he had grown bored of his little game. I was just a student, and he was a powerful man—surely he had better things to do than haunt my phone for nudes.
I wiped down the espresso machine, a small smile on my lips. "It’s over," I whispered to myself.
Buzz. Buzz.
My heart did a painful flip. I reached into my apron pocket and pulled out my phone. My stomach dropped into my shoes.
Talk of the devil…
Professor Ashton: Miss Rosie. You didn't think I forgot about you, did yo
