To Professor, With Love (4 page)

“How old are you?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Shit. Why had I just asked that? It made no difference what age my teacher was.

Lifting her eyebrows with what was either irritation or amusement—I couldn’t quite tell—she murmured, “None of your business,” in a low voice packed with heated sensuality.

It stirred every hormone inside me, even though I knew she hadn’t meant it to.

I shook myself free of the generating lust and muttered, “Right.” It was time to get out of here. Now.

***

“Quotable quotes are coins rubbed smooth by circulation.” - Louis Menand

***

~ASPEN~

Noel Gamble turned away and was about out of the door of my office when he paused and glanced at my quote board. A pincushion of cork for all my thumbtacks to hold up Post-it notes and scraps of paper, my quote board was full of sayings from books I had collected over the years.

Slowing to a stop, he studied some of the quotes I had accumulated. “What’s this?”

No one had ever asked me that before.

I ducked my hot face, feeling suddenly shy. But it felt like he was scanning a piece of my soul. Still unsettled by how he’d asked how old I was, I mumbled, “It’s nothing. Just my quote board.”

He glanced back, and the curiosity in his blue eyes sizzled my insides.

I cleared my throat. “When I read a line from a story I like, I tack it up there.” It was kind of my thing.

“Hmm.” He lifted his hand to slip aside one of the newer quotes to read one of the older ones hidden behind it. When he gave a low chuckle, my hormones jackknifed into immediate awareness. God, his laugh was stirring. “That’s a good one.”

Since I had no idea which one he was referring to, I didn’t respond. Then again, I considered all of them good since I’d taken the time to put them there, so I probably couldn’t help but agree.

He glanced back. “‘Sometimes the questions are complicated but the answers are simple.’”

That had to be the deepest thing anyone had ever said to me. But what did he mean? Was he referring to my assignment? Did he think I’d made it too convoluted? Should I work on my teaching approach?

I cleared my throat. “Excuse me?”

He flushed slightly and turned back to the quote board to tap the Post-its. “It’s Dr. Seuss. Another quote you could add.”

“O-oh. Thanks. That...that’s actually an excellent one.” And it was. It really was. Strange.

Noel gifted me with the hint of a smile. Then he ducked his face and headed from the room.

Once he was gone, I felt bereft. Setting my hand over my heart, I sank back into my chair and blew out a long, shaky breath. Okay, so my crush on a student had just grown to epic proportions. Wonder what my flawless, judgmental mother would have to say about that?

CHAPTER FOUR

"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun.'" -Groucho Marx

~NOEL~

Tenning was loitering in the kitchen when I came through the front door of our apartment. As I kicked it shut behind me, he appeared in the opening next to the breakfast bar, barefoot and shirtless with his track pants hanging low around his hips. He only had to look at my face to know something was up.

A smug leer spread across his features. “So...how’d your meeting with
Kavanagh
go?”

I sent him my best
fuck you
glare and dropped my bag heavily on the floor before slumping spine-first onto the couch. “Feels like I just had an hour-long session with a head shrink. I swear to God, who knew literature was all about
feelings
and
emotions
? God damn.”

Tenning chuckled. “So, is she going to let you rewrite a new paper or what?”

“Actually, yeah. Freaky, huh? But only because her boss has a hard-on for me or something and forced her to give me a second chance.”

“Really? Did you have to go down on him to make that happen?” Tenning leaned against the wall and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“
What
?” Swiping up a throw pillow that had been lumped behind my head, I threw it at him as hard as I could. “Jesus, Ten. You’re such a crude asshole, and you completely annoy me.”

Catching the cushion to his chest, he snickered. “Damn, I love you too, babe. Hey, I bet if you offered to teach the dyke to bat for the right team, she’d change your grade to an A without you having to worry about writing another paper for the rest of the semester.”

I sighed and decided to ignore him or he’d only get worse. But the douche had hit a nerve. If he ever realized I actually thought about her in that way, he’d never let me live it down. Talk about utter humiliation.

Focusing my attention on the ceiling, I noticed a new water stain growing in the corner. Swell. The worst part was I couldn’t mention the leak to our landlord or he’d just raise our rent again, as he had this winter when we’d asked him to fix the central heating system.
Repairs aren’t fre
e, he’d said.

“Hey, quit daydreaming about banging your teacher, dickwad.” Ten kicked my feet off the end of the couch as he passed, making his way toward the hallway that led down to our separate rooms. “It’s ladies’ night. We got work to do. I call dibs on the shower first.”

I groaned, completely having forgotten what day it was. Every Thursday was ladies’ night at Forbidden, the bar where both Ten and I worked. That meant only the male employees had to clock in, and since all five of us guys were bartenders, some of us had to switch over and play waiter for the evening.

My tips went through the roof when I waited tables on ladies’ night, but damn, drunk women could get freaking frisky. Not that I didn’t mind a little grab-ass from a table full of cute co-eds. But after a couple hours of it, my butt cheeks grew chaffed.

And that was only from the women who went for the back door. I’d taken to wearing a cup a couple months back due to all the hungry hands grabbing my junk.

Yeah, it was that insane.

An hour later, I was following Ten out the door, decked out in a tight black T-shirt and blue jeans, which was the regulation uniform for the men of Forbidden. Since I didn’t own my own set of wheels, I climbed into the passenger seat of Ten’s truck as he slid behind the wheel.

Five minutes later, we parked across the street from the nightclub and took a minute to stare at the quiet building before slipping out of the truck. In an hour, the place would be banging, and the peace we had now would be no more. But...it paid the bills and helped me send home some extra funds to Caroline so she could pay those bills too.

“You ready for this?” I asked, pushing open my door.

Ten snickered. “I was born ready, motherfucker.” As he followed me to the front door, I shook my head, wondering if he’d ever not been able to come up with some politically incorrect answer to any question a person asked him.

After unlocking the door and slipping inside, I glanced around the interior for the other three guys who were supposed to work tonight.

“Where is everyone?” Ten and I were rarely the first to arrive, and we weren’t even running early.

“Well, Pick’s always late,” Ten said, taking a chair off the first table he saw and tucking it upright underneath. “And the twins are...” He glanced around and scratched his head. “Huh. The twins are never late. Where the fuck are the twins?”

As if answering his question, the door to the manager’s office opened, and the owner of Forbidden’s oldest daughter, Jessie, strolled out followed by a stranger—a dark-haired guy, my age, about the same height and size...which could mean only one thing.

New employee. One of my coworkers must’ve quit.

“Fuck,” Ten growled, mirroring my thoughts, before he lifted his voice and called across the empty bar. “Yo, Jess. Where’s Huey and Louie?” The twins were actually named Heath and Landon, but Ten tended to assign everyone his own nickname.

Jess had never been an Oren Tenning fan, so she narrowed him a harsh glower. “Where do you
think
? They quit. Probably didn’t want to work with your punk ass anymore. Here’s his replacement. Someone show him what to do.”

With that, she turned away and started back into the office.

“Hey,” Ten called after her. “What about the other one?”

Jessie paused and glanced back to arch one intimidating eyebrow. “Other one what?”

“This place is going to be overrun within an hour, woman. We
need
at least five guys working tonight, not three and some clueless newbie. Are you seriously just going to replace
both
the twins with this one douche?”

The clueless newbie douche in question sent him a sidelong look that seemed more amused than insulted by the remark while Jess hissed with aggravation.

“Yeah, I am. So show him what to do.” With that, she slammed back into her office, leaving the three of us alone in the bar.

“She totally wants me.” Ten sniffed knowingly at the closed door, while I sighed and set my hands on my hips, taking in the new guy.

God, I couldn’t wait until Jess’s dad returned to work. He’d recently had open-heart surgery, and she’d taken over while he was down. But if he didn’t hurry his ass up and recover soon, his precious baby girl was going to run his nightclub into the ground.

Tipping my head up in greeting, I said, “Hey. What’s your name?”

The new guy shoved his hands into his back pockets and tore his attention away from Ten to glance my way. “Mason,” he said. “Mason Lowe.”

I nodded. “Nice to meet you. You ever bartend before?”

When Lowe shook his head, Ten snorted and slapped me in the stomach. “He’s all yours, baby.” Dismissing us both, he returned to his job of taking the chairs off the tables.

“Fine,” I called. “We get the bar then; you wait tables.”

“What the fuck ever. Make the new guy wait tables.”

“Shit, you want him to quit on his first night?”

Ten paused to study Lowe from head to foot. Then he nodded. “Yeah, with a pretty face like his, he’d be molested beyond repair within the first five minutes. I’ll take the tables. But just for tonight.” He pointed threateningly at Lowe. “You got that, newbie?”

Lowe was beginning to look a little alarmed. “What’s he talking about? I thought this was just a regular bar.”

Humph. There was nothing regular about Forbidden. But to reassure him, I said, “It is.” With a friendly pat on his back, I shrugged. “Don’t listen to Ten. He’s just sore because his vagina got ridden too hard last night.”

“Fucker,” Ten called from across the room.

I ignored him, focusing on Lowe. “But every Thursday
is
ladies’ night. So it’ll probably get a little crazy. Drinks are fifty percent off for every woman who comes in, which means a lot of drunk, handsy chicks are going to try to get a piece of you...all night long.”

A green tinge immediately coated Lowe’s face. “Great,” he muttered weakly.

With a laugh, I slugged my elbow into his arm. “Trust me. It is. Your tips will triple. But seriously. You might want to protect the boys. I recommend wearing a cup every Thursday from here on out.”

“Sure.” With a gulp and longing glance toward the exit, Lowe nodded.

“Your accent’s different,” I noted as I led him toward the bar. “Where’re you from?”

“Florida. Just moved here a couple months ago.”

“Dude.” Appearing out of nowhere, Ten plopped down on a stool and rested his elbows on the bar while he frowned at Lowe. “Why the hell would you leave
Florida
for fucking Ellamore, Illinois?”

Mason shrugged as if it was no big deal. “My girlfriend’s from here. She wanted to come home.”

Ten snorted. “Wait, wait, wait. You traveled halfway across the country for some pussy? Damn, that’s lame.”

I thought Lowe was going to leap across the bar and strangle my pathetic excuse for a roommate, so I beat him to the punch. “Ignore him,” I said, slinging my hand out to smack Ten on the side of the head. “Like I said; sore vagina.”

Glaring at me, Ten sniffed. “At least I’m not banging my teacher for a good grade.”

Oh, that did it.

“Go away.” I pointed at his face and sent him the stare of death until he rolled his eyes and pushed from the bar to saunter off. Once his back was turned, I couldn’t help but slice a worried glance toward Lowe. “I’m not—”

Lowe lifted his hands and waved me quiet, telling me I didn’t have to explain myself. “Hey, cougars aren’t my thing. But if you—”

“She’s not a cougar,” I hissed in defense before I could stop myself. “I mean...shit.” I stabbed my fingers through my hair, my mind skipping to figure out how to talk my way out of this because now it totally sounded like I was banging my teacher. “I’m not sleeping with any of my teachers, okay. Butt Licker over there is just harassing me because I somehow miraculously sweet-talked my hard-ass English professor into letting me rewrite a paper. That’s it.”

Fuck, I sounded too defensive, didn’t I?

“Kavanagh and Gamble sitting in a tree,” Ten—the five-year-old trapped in a horny twenty-one-year old’s body—sang from across the room. “K.I.S.S.I.N.G.”

I shut him up at that point by grabbing a football from a shelf behind the bar and winding back my arm to take aim. When I hit him square in the back, he grunted and went sprawling forward to the floor.

Lowe whistled, clearly impressed by my skill. “Lucky shot.”

“
Lucky
?” I cranked my head around to gape at the new guy. “Obviously you have no idea who I am.”

“Uh...” His eyebrows wrinkled as he shook his head. “No. Who are you?”

“Son, you are in the presence of a local legend.” With a sweeping bow, I introduced myself. “Noel Gamble, beloved quarterback for the university’s football team.”

“Oh, okay.” Lowe nodded as recognition sparked in his gaze. “I didn’t transfer over until this semester, but I heard how well the team did this year. And I’m pretty sure I’ve heard your name float around campus.”

With a hoot of pride, I called toward my roommate. “Hear that, Ten? Even the newbie’s heard of me.”

Ten snorted. “You’re only popular because
we
make you look good.”

I laughed and turned back to Lowe. “That’s Asswipe, otherwise known as Oren Tenning. But most everyone calls him Ten. If you ask me, though, he’s more like a Zero. He’s a third-string receiver for the team.”

“Third string my ass. I played more than you did this season.”

True. But I didn’t admit it aloud. Ignoring him, I asked Lowe, “So how much do you know about mixing drinks?”

The rueful grin and lifting of his eyebrows told me he knew absolutely nothing. I sighed, already ready for this night to be over. “Awesome. Let’s get started learning then, shall we?”

I was giving him the lay of the land, showing him how to mix up the most basic of drinks and run the cash register when Pick slipped in right before opening, pissing me off with his usual tardiness. Personality-wise, the guy was my favorite coworker, but damn, sometimes he didn’t make it in until after we opened.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” I called, tossing him a waist apron so it hit him square in the face. “You got the floor with Ten tonight. The twins quit. This is the new guy, Mason Lowe. Now get to work.”

My abrupt little speech, getting him up to speed, only made him smile. The silver studs in his eyebrow twitched. “Damn, your bossy little mouth never fails to turn me on, Gamble.”

I snorted because Pick Ryan was more of a man-whore than Ten and I put together. I guess women totally went for the tatted-up, metal-faced, bad-boy image. But if you asked me, I’d say he was the furthest thing from a true bad boy as a guy could get.

He worked his ass off with two jobs to support himself, plus he respected women more than anyone I knew. He was always the first to jump in and kick ass if some drunk idiot was harassing a female, and he knew exactly what to say to make them happy. He just loved everything there was about the ladies, and they loved everything there was about him.

“Pick! My
man
!” Ten bounded forward, practically tackling the new arrival. “Thank God you didn’t quit too. Looks like we have the floor tonight, fucker. You got your cup on?”

When he balled his hand into a fist and went to roshambo Pick in the junk, Pick slapped his hand down. “Hey, hey. That’s not a toy, princess. Some lucky lady may need to use it later on.”

Ten snorted. “Whatever, douche. You know you’re saving yourself for me.” He really mauled the other guy then, dry humping his leg.

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” His voice mild, Pick shoved Ten back by the forehead. “I’ve got a headache.”

“What the fuck ever. You totally want me.”

As they moved off still bantering back and forth to unlock the front doors, Mason glanced my way. “You weren’t kidding about the cup thing, were you?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “No. No, I wasn’t.”

He paled. “That’s what I was afraid of.”