The next day, Sam lingered after class. His usual cocky grin was replaced with a more serious look as he approached her desk.
"Ms. Carter, I really liked your analysis of the book. I never would've seen it that way." His voice was smooth, a little too smooth.
"Thanks, Sam. I'm glad it made sense to you," Emily replied, smiling, though something in his tone made her uneasy.
His eyes dropped to the paper in front of her, but she could feel the weight of his gaze, still lingering on her. She shuffled through the papers on her desk to avoid looking up, but her thoughts kept drifting back to his intense, lingering stare.
As the students filed out of the room, she caught Sam lingering by the door.
"Are you free for lunch today?" he asked casually, though the question felt loaded. "I was hoping to discuss some of the themes in The Great Gatsby… maybe I could pick your brain a little more."
"Lunch? I… um, I usually have a meeting with the department head," she stammered, feeling a tightness in her chest.
"Too bad," Sam said, flashing that smile again. "Maybe some other time."
As he walked away, Emily felt a flutter she hadn't felt in years. She told herself it was nothing—just a student trying to get ahead. But as she packed up for the day, she couldn't ignore the warmth that seemed to settle in her chest whenever she thought about him.