“You’re hard to miss, too,” I say, and he looks up at me from where he’s leaning over the table. “You know, considering you’re a brick wall that takes up most doorways to bodyslam unsuspecting students.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “You should watch where you’re going.”
“And you should stop bench pressing so much.”
He straightens up. “You have something against exercise, Miss Nyx?”
“Not at all. But you’re massive, dude. You’re what, a million feet tall? That, paired with being built likeCreed, you take up an unreasonable amount of space.”
“You watch boxing movies?” he asks, amused.
“When they starMichael B. Jordan, I do.”
“6 ‘3,” he mumbles, sinking another shot. “Just shy of ‘a million feet tall’.” He grins.
“The professor jokes.” I smirk.
“Among other things,” he says quietly before missing the next shot.
“So, you frequent this bar just because you don’t run into many students here?” he prompts as I sink another shot.
“I come here with Sam a lot to have a few drinks.” I gesture over my shoulder to Sam, who is still chatting up the cute guy at the bar. “Sometimes I come here to get some schoolwork done.” I shrug. “I live in the equivalent of a refrigerator box, and it feels like I’ll go crazy if I don’t go somewhere else.”
I line up my final shot and call the pocket before I look up at him. His eyes travel down my spine and across my waist. The feeling of his eyes on me makes phantom fingertips feel as if they’re dancing along my skin. I quickly look away and perfectly sink the eight ball. I stand up to my full height and hold my hand out to him. “And with that, Professor, you owe me a drink.”
He shakes my hand, and I swear the contact sends a little zing up my spine.
“At a later date,” he murmurs without breaking eye contact.
“Huh?” I ask, distracted by the bright green of his eyes and the warmth of his hand.
“Your friend is picking up your tab. You said you wanted a drink at a later date if you won,” his voice is low and husky and doing weird things to my stomach.
“Right,” I laugh. “Can’t short myself out of a free drink, inflation and all,” I add stupidly. He smiles, and his handtightens on mine before I realize we’re still holding hands. “Sorry,” I stutter.
“No, I’m sorry,” he says quickly.
I finish off my martini and awkwardly run a hand through my hair. “Well, thank you for indulging me and letting me play.”
“It was nothing,” he assures me. “Though I do feel slightly hustled,” he adds with a knowing grin.
The bartender interrupts us as he sets two tequila shots with limes in front of us. Sam’s liquor of choice. I know without looking that Sam has gone home with the cute boy he was chatting up earlier. He always sends an apology shot my way when he leaves without me. It’s never bothered me before, but leaving me talking to our professor without an easy out?
Asher looks at me with a raised brow.
I sigh. “They’re from Sam. He’ll send me an ‘I’m sorry for bailing on you’ shot when he leaves the bar with someone that’s not me.”
“He left you here?”
I wave off his tone of concern as I take the shot. “No big deal, I’ll just Uber home. I don’t live far from here.”
“Are you sure?” he asks hesitantly.
The last thing I want is for him to give me a pity ride home.Maybe another kind of ride.I shake the dirty thoughts away as I scoop up my purse. “Nah, I am all good,” I assure him. “Thanks again for letting me get some free drinks out of my friend. Enjoy the free shot he sent you for putting up with me, and I will see you in class on Monday.” I wave and turn toward the door before he can say anything else.
I make my way outside to the street and resist the urge to look over my shoulder at Asher, knowing that I can probably still see him from the window. I stumble slightly as the last shot catches up with me.
I pull out my phone to tap the screen only to see that it’s dead. “Great,” I mutter before looking around to see if there are any taxis nearby.
