Stepbrother Broken (The Hawthorne Brothers Book 2) (5 page)

“
I
’
m
not even going to dignify that with a response,
”
he
glares back at me.

We
sidle up to the bar, squeezing between the sardined bodies of regular customers.
I catch the bartender
’
s eye first and call out our order
for two gin and tonics. The bartender looks at me a little skeptically
—
I get the feeling this is more of a PBR and whiskey
joint
—
but furnishes us with our first
round all the same. With my cold cocktail in hand, I finally feel like I can
relax and get a feel for this place. Two barstools open up, and I settle into
one beside Danny. Sipping my drink, I turn to give The Bear Trap (and its male
patrons) a little once over.

My
eyes sweep over most of the guys here without pause. Trucker hats and bad
mustaches are both deal breakers for me, alas. But as I lean around Danny to
check out the other end of the bar, my gaze comes to a screeching halt as it
alights on a very familiar face. A face I
’
d never expect to see in a place
like this. The sculpted, arresting face of one, Luke Hawthorne.

“
What the hell?!
”
I breathe, hiding behind Danny at once.

“
What? What
’
s the matter?
”
my friend asks, baffled by my
behavior.

“
Don
’
t
look,
”
I caution him,
“
But that guy down at the end of the bar, with the
short brown hair and the sexy stubble? That
’
s
Luke.
”

“
Who?
”

“
Professor Sexy Pants,
”
I hiss.

“
What?! Oh my god, where?!
”
Danny crows, whipping around in his seat.

“
Danny! I told you not to look!
”
I breathe, grabbing hold of my friend
’
s arm.

“
Goddamn, Sophie. You weren
’
t kidding,
”
Danny whistles,
“
That is one fine specimen of a man, right there.
”

Despite
my better judgment, I peer around Danny to get a second look. Luke is standing
along the far side of the bar, leaning up against the rough wooden surface. But
even though I
’
d recognize that sharp jaw and
those dark green eyes anywhere, I almost can
’
t
believe that this is the same man who
’
s been lecturing me about the
economy for the past couple of months.

Gone
are the professional slacks and button downs I
’
ve
grown accustomed to seeing him in. Gone are the nice shoes, the laptop, the
stacks of graded papers. Tonight, Luke
’
s barely recognizable in a dark
gray tee shirt and dark wash jeans, cut perfectly to his chiseled chest and
sculpted ass. His chestnut brown hair is just the right kind of tousled, and
even the stubble on his jaw seems darker than it was yesterday. But it isn
’
t just his clothes that have changed since our run-in
after class. His entire demeanor is different. He
’
s
dropped the upright school hero act entirely. His stance is easy and confident,
his body relaxed and supple. Every one of his perfect muscles seems rested and
ready for action
…
of
any
variety. This assured
everyman is even more appealing to me than the high and mighty golden boy I
’
ve always known Luke to be. Just when I thought he
couldn
’
t get any more intriguing
…

“
Are you gonna go talk to him?
”
Danny asks excitedly.

“
No way. Absolutely not,
”
I say, trying to sound firmer in my convictions that I
feel.

“
And why the hell not?
”
Danny presses,
“
Are you still mad about that little
after school chat? He probably just wanted you to stick around so he could
check out your tits in that black spandex.
”

“
The chat was one thing,
”
I say,
“
But that little note he followed up
with? That was too much.
”

“
What note was that?
”
Danny asks, cocking his head.

“
The email,
”
I clarify,
“
I sent it to you.
”

“
No you didn
’
t,
”
Danny replies.

“
Sure I did. Right after I read it.
Luke sent over some little ditty about how I should consider other career paths
so I don
’
t squander my potential,
”
I say, rolling my eyes.

“
This is news to me,
”
Danny says,
“
Are you sure you sent it to the
right address?
”

“
Of course,
”
I tell him,
“
It
’
s
not my fault you only check your email once a week, you Luddite.
”

“
I
’
m
an artist,
”
Danny shrugs,
“
I
’
m allowed to be a Luddite. But
you
are not allowed to leave here without talking to Professor Sexy Pants.
”

“
I already told you, I
’
m not interested,
”
I say, lying through my
teeth.

“
But fate has brought you together!
”
Danny whines, wrapping his arms around my waist,
“
On what other occasion would we find ourselves in a
shit hole like this?
”
He pauses to mouth
“
I
’
m sorry
”
to the scowling bartender before going on,
“
It
’
s totally meant to be, my dear.
”

“
I assure you, Luke wouldn
’
t agree,
”
I tell my friend, prying his
arms from around me,
“
Now for the love of god, would you
please drop it?
”

Danny
’
s eyes gleam with mischief as he turns away from me in
a huff. Relieved, I lift my glass and take a big swig of my gin and tonic. But
before I can swallow properly, Danny
’
s cupped his hands around his mouth
and screamed across the bar
—

“
Hey-a, Luke!
”

I
promptly choke on my mouthful of gin as Danny hops off his stool, clearing Luke
’
s sightline and scampering off into the crowd. I feel
Luke
’
s eyes before I see them, raking
hotly along my bare skin. Struggling to compose myself, I lift my gaze and look
warily across the bar
…
but there
’
s no one looking back. Luke
’
s disappeared from his spot. Is he avoiding me
completely now? I guess I can
’
t blame him for not wanted to see a
student at the bar, but
—

“
You really shouldn
’
t drink alone, you know,
”
a
rich voice says from over my shoulder.

I
whip around to see Luke Hawthorne settling down onto the barstool beside mine.
Is that excitement I feel at seeing him, or trepidation?

“
You
’
re
full of advice, aren
’
t you?
”
I say to him, playing it cool. Who says there aren
’
t practical applications for an acting degree? I knock
back the rest of my drink in one big gulp.

“
Let me buy you another,
”
Luke says, signaling for the bartender. He
’
s not asking, he
’
s telling.

“
Isn
’
t
there some kind of rule against fraternizing with students?
”
I ask him.

“
You
’
re
not technically my student, according to Sheridan. I was just filling in for an
old mentor. And besides, as of this afternoon, my class is over,
”
he reminds me.

“
Lucky me,
”
I reply, averting my eyes from Luke
’
s intense gaze.

“
Lucky is right,
”
he grins, as the bartender sets two new drinks down in
front of us.

I
take a healthy sip from my replenished glass, baffled by this new version of
Luke Hawthorne. This effortlessly cool bad boy thing of his is totally working
for me, and so is the way he
’
s looking at me right now. But I
can
’
t let him know that. Not just yet.
We
’
ve still got a few things to sort
out before I let my guard down, here.

“
So what
’
s with the getup?
”
I ask him, raising an
eyebrow.

“
The getup?
”
he asks, amused.

“
Yeah. I thought your style was Grad
school Ken,
”
I shoot back.

“
Oh, you were a fan of the collared
shirts?
”
he grins back at me, taking a sip
of his bourbon.

“
Not exactly,
”
I reply,
“
This is just
…
not a side of you I
’
ve
seen before.
”

“
Well, when have you seen me outside
of the classroom?
”
he asks.

“
Just on every Sheridan brochure I
’
ve ever flipped through,
”
I
tease him.

He
groans at the jab, shaking his head.

“
Touche,
”
he says,
“
I should have known that my
reputation would precede me.
”

“
And then some,
”
I reply, sipping my drink.

“
Oh yeah?
”
he says, resting his forearms on the bar, just inches
from my own. I feel the air between us spark with tension.
“
What else have you heard about me?
”

“
I
’
ve
heard
…
that you
’
re some kind of iron man when it comes to sports,
”
I reply, ticking off his attributes on my fingers,
“
I
’
ve heard that you
’
re super smart at whatever number crunching it is you
’
re so fond of. And
…
I
’
ve heard that you
’
ve got a new lady friend hanging on
your arm every other week.
”

His
green eyes gleam rakishly in the dim light of the bar.
“
Well, I guess I can
’
t
exactly refute any of that
…”
he grins.
“
But there
’
s a bit more to me than you
’
ll see on the front of a brochure.
”

“
Oh, I don
’
t doubt it,
”
I reply, my voice dipping low
in my register as Luke shifts his body closer to mine.