Chapter 6
Class the next morning is tense, to say the least. Although, I’m not sure whose side it’s on more: mine or the professor’s. I’ve kept my head and eyes down since the moment I walked into the room, unwilling to risk the knowing look I’ll see in his eyes if I do.
I spent all night thinking about what happened in that darkened room and I know it was a mistake. I should have turned around and walked back out the second I laid eyes on him, but the temptation was too much. Now, I have to face what happened between us in the light of day, where secrets like ours become painfully transparent.
Despite how hard I have worked to keep the two sides of my world separate, they’ve collided in a way known for its total destruction. This isn’t some J.Lo, Maid in Manhattan movie. It’s a real life rush hour pile-up of epic proportions, and I can tell by the suffocating way the room closes in on me that it’s going to require the Jaws of Life to get me out of this mess.
Even as I contemplate how I’m going to extract myself from this situation, I know my options are limited. This is the only Art Comp class on campus, and Professor Scott is the only professor in employ. Unless I want to change my major and completely derail all the plans I’ve spent the last four years working toward, then I have to suck it up and stay the course.
I’ve felt Professor Scott’s eyes on me throughout the hour. My unwillingness to lift my eyes from my notebook and participate in the discussion may translate to my not paying attention. The reality of it couldn’t be more opposite. I am painfully aware of every second that ticks by, of every deep-throated word that passes over his lips. I could recite every single thing he has said, I am that focused.
I also know right down to the second when the dismissal bell will ring. When it does, I’m out of my seat so fast, that Annie doesn’t stand a chance of catching up. I can’t help it. I need air. I need distance.
This pattern continues the rest of the week. It spills over into work. I find myself watching every shadowed corner, my insides a twisted mess, because I don’t know whether I want to see that imposing figure lurking about or not.
But Professor Scott doesn’t try to engage me in class, and he doesn’t show up at the club. The week passes by without incident, and I begin to relax. No doubt, he feels just as off-kilter as I do. What happened between us is the kind of thing that causes scandals. It’s what gets people fired from their job. For both our sakes, we need to forget that night—and every other night—ever happened.
I walk into DJ’s, a bar located just off campus and search the crowded room. I’m supposed to meet Annie and a small group of our friends for drinks. I’ve been looking forward to it all week. The need to unwind and have some fun has stretched my nerves thin, and I feel about ready to snap. After the week I’ve had, this couldn’t have come at a better time.
Spotting our group at a table close to the stage where a local band is playing a cover of Weezer’s Back to the Shack, I wend my way through the crowd. My smile stretches ear-to-ear when I spot Annie sitting at the head of the table, her cheeks already flushed from the beer she holds in her left hand.
Approaching from the side, I hook her around the neck and pull her in for a hug before she can register it’s me. Her screech of surprise is short-lived, and then she is popping out of her chair to embrace me. “You made it!”
“You’re drunk!” I hold her away from me, laughing as I take in her glassy eyes and flushed cheeks.
Annie wags her finger at me as we both sit down at the table. “Tipsy, not drunk. You can’t get drunk off one beer.”
I raise my brows. “If you say so, doll. So, where’s your boy toy?” I glance around the table, seeing no sign of Jason.
“He’s going to be late.” She rolls her eyes. I can see why the party started without me.
Patting her hand in understanding, I open my mouth to offer some form of comfort, but am yanked out of my chair and into a strong pair of arms before I can utter a word.
“You come in and can’t even say hi?”
I laugh as the breath is squeezed out of me. “Brody! I didn’t see you when I came in.” I give him a peck on his whiskered cheek. “Even if I had, you know I have to show my girl some love before anyone else.”
Standing more than six inches taller than me, I have to look up into Brody’s smiling brown eyes as he sets me back on my feet. His wide, white smile and deep dimples are catnip to the average female population, and even I have to admit that I am not immune to his charms. But I’ve known Brody since he was a scrawny freshman, and have come to see him as a brother.
“I’ve known you longer,” he pouts.
“Sisters before misters,” I say, playfully punching him in his rock solid arm. Thanks to football, the man is built. Just another reason he’s such a lady-killer.
“And bros before hoes. You hanging out a while? Rio’s signed up for Karaoke and is hoping you’ll join him.”
“Oh no!” I hold up my hands and shake my head. “I’m off duty tonight.”
“What? You have to go. You make the perfect June.”
I made the mistake of singing “Walk the Line” once with Rio while drunk off my ass, and have allowed myself to be roped into singing it every weekend since. Tonight, I’m throwing in the towel.
Laughing, I back away toward the bar with my hands in the air. “Sorry, but Johnny’s going to have to go solo tonight. Unless you want to lend him a hand?” Flashing him a crude gesture, I spin around and disappear into the crowd.
If possible, it’s more crowded at the bar. And loud, too. I have to shout over the blaring music to get the bartender’s attention, and even then, I get nowhere. Turns out, my voice is too mousy to carry over the swell of noise.
I’m leaning over the counter, waving my hand to gain the older man’s attention, when I feel a wall of heat press against my side. Turning my head, I look over my shoulder and feel time screech to a sudden halt.
Professor Scott looks down at me, his dark eyes like lasers that sear right through me. My breathing falters and I ease back until my toes touch the solid floor. A breath of air is the only thing standing between us. Tonight, he’s swapped out his more subdued teaching attire for the sexy, dark, tailored look. The black pants make him appear long and lean, but I find my eyes drawn to the powder pink button-down, two buttons open to reveal a hint of chest hair. The sight takes me back to the VIP room, and a rush of heat burns through my entire body.
I recall his dark eyes filled with a combination of warning and lust. It’s the same look he’s giving me now, only ten times more intense. This is the kind of man who dominates in his relationships. He screams danger, but it’s not the kind I want to run away from. Rather, it’s the kind that draws a person in, lulls them into a false sense of security, and after taking them places they’ve never imagined, tears them apart and leaves them lying in tatters.
Still, like a helpless moth, I can’t help wanting to get closer. I’m drawn to his heat. I want to be burned.
He is the devil on my shoulder.
Even knowing this, I can’t turn away.
“You look like you could use a drink.” His voice is deeper than usual, and I wonder if that’s because he’s as affected by me as I am by him. Lifting his arm, I study his strong profile while he orders our drinks. I don’t realize how hard I’m staring until he holds up a glass in front of my face, a knowing smirk tugging at his full lips.
“Shit, thanks.” I down the amber liquid, gasping as it burns a path down my throat.
“That was mine, actually.” I blink rapidly, trying to focus through the sting and make sense of his words. He holds up a beer. “This would be yours.”
My cheeks flame and I burst out laughing, shaking my head as I take the bottle. “Oops. Sorry about that. I’ll buy you another.”
Instead of arguing, he lets me, watching in amusement as I attempt to flag down the bartender. It takes several tries before I finally give up and motion to him. With impressive skill, he uses his commanding voice to bring the guy over. I wish I had one of those—a booming voice, that is. Not only is it sexy as hell, but it can’t be ignored. At least, not the way Professor Scott uses it. Once again, I am transported back to that hotel room, to the way he commands my body and mind so effortlessly.
After he is served a fresh brandy, he watches me over his glass as he takes a taste. “So, you come here often?” he asks with a hint of amusement.
“Every Saturday.”
His brows lift in question. “No work on Saturdays?”
He’s baiting me, and I refuse to bite. “Nope. Saturdays are my play days.” I emphasize “play” hoping to garner some kind of reaction, but I get none. Saturday is the only day I requested off when I started working at the club, for obvious reasons. It’s the true start of the weekend, the one day I get to let down my hair and forget about work and school and immerse myself in pleasure, and I use it to my full advantage.
He hums and nods thoughtfully. “Here with friends?”
Peering over his head, I lift my chin, indicating Annie and the group that is now gathered around her, smiling and laughing, and all without me. “Looks like the gang is all here.”
Professor Scott glances over his shoulder, but his interest is not with them. When his eyes meet mine again, the hunger is plain for anyone to see, and a thread of anticipation tangles in my belly. “I’ve never been to this establishment. Stick around and have a drink with me.”
The low rumble of his voice does things to me, but as tempting as the offer is, I made myself a promise, and I need to stick to it. “Sorry, no. That’s probably not the best idea, wouldn’t you agree? I should be getting back.” Taking my beer with me, I step away from the bar.
Catching my hand in his, he holds me in place. I wait for him to say something—anything—until I realize that it isn’t what I’m waiting for him to say that I should be paying attention to—it’s what he’s not saying.
It’s all right there, in the knowing, teasing gleam in those onyx eyes. Lust. Intrigue. Promise. This isn’t over between us. Not by a long shot.
I can still feel the imprint of his fingers on my skin, long after I make my escape.