One Night With My Alpha Professor by Eve Above Story

Chapter 279

Audrey

Edwin and I emerged from the small room, his hand still resting protectively on my back. The hustle and bustle of last- minute preparations immediately hit us, assistants running back and forth, models being ushered into position, and the soft hum of the audience’s chatter drifting through the walls.

“I guess no one would have noticed our little tryst anyway,” Edwin mused under his breath with a smirk.

I glanced up at him, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively. But a sound caused us both to whip our heads toward the dressing

area.

“Owww! My ankle!”

Exchanging worried glances, Edwin and I rushed toward the sound. A small group had gathered in a huddle near the back of the dressing area. In the center of the commotion was a young woman, one of the models, seated on a chair with her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she cried out.

I hurried over, Edwin following closely behind.

“What happened?” I asked, kneeling in front of the model. She looked up at me, her face pale, tears clinging to her lashes. “I–I twisted my ankle really bad,” she stammered, wincing as she shifted her foot slightly. “I was fine earlier, but it hurts to put any weight on it now…”

Someone behind her chimed in, “She tripped backstage. I thought she’d just shaken it off, but…”

I glanced down at her ankle, which was already beginning to swell slightly under the delicate straps of her shoe. The show was minutes from starting. Panic might have been setting in, but I couldn’t afford that luxury–not now.

I took a calming breath, tapping into that silver pool of energy inside of me. With a reassuring smile, I reached out to touch/ her ankle. “May I?” I asked.

She winced, flinching away.

“It’s alright,” I murmured. “I’ll help you.”

of hesitation, the model finally nodded and allowed

touch her ankle.

fingertips. It started off as a cool stream,

few seconds. I felt the tension in the model’s ankle release, her muscles relaxing as the pain ebbed away. She let out

pulling my hand back.

of surprise and relief

doesn’t hurt anymore,” she breathed, a smile breaking through. “Thank

nodded, rising. “It’s what I’m here for. Now, get

from the surrounding crew was palpable, and I looked up at Edwin, I saw a look of pride in his eyes. He

as

manager said, clapping her

58%

began to play, a hush fell over the audience. I slipped into the shadows by

watching as the first model

by Edwin, in his classic Brooks Designs style: a matching trousers and blazer set with an oversized, masculine fit. The shoulders

here, the silver and gold threads that he had used to stitch everything together glimmered under the stage lights. Cameras

plunging neckline accentuated the model’s bust, the strappy heels and golden arm bands making her look as if

vision of the countless hours, the intricate stitching, the late–night sketches, and the dreams

on the runway but his approval humming through the bond. My mother stood on my other side, wrapping

speak. None of us could. We just watched in awe, holding each other. Piece after piece walked the runway, and the audience’s murmurs of appreciation grew louder,

was

my throat, my hands tightening around Edwin and my mother. I hoped that this piece wasn’t too out there,

nonsense.

as the final model stepped onto the runway. I held my breath as she took her first step,

every inch of the design. There were the cheerful drawings he’d shown me, the flowers and birds

were hundreds, all of them coalescing into the train at the