Page 9 of Professor


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He smoothed his hand over my hips and belly, creeping lower. Fear spiked even harder in me, and I struggled again.

“I said no,” I said loudly enough I knew he’d heard. But then, in the next second, he was pulled away from me.

I stumbled back from the sudden motion and felt my eyes widen as I stared up at Professor Goode. I didn’t know why he was at the club, but that wasn’t my main concern at the moment. It was the fact he was currently holding Mr. Groper by the neck.

The expression on my professor’s face was downright frightening. He leaned in close to the other man’s ear and said something low enough I couldn’t hear. I watched as my would-be assaulter widened his eyes in clear fear. He looked at Professor Goode and shook his head frantically, holding up his hands as if to show he meant no harm.

And then he turned and hauled ass away from us, pushing people out of his way as if the place were on fire and he was desperate to get out to survive.

I stared at Professor Goode for a second, not sure what the hell was going on but thankful he’d been here at the right time.

I felt increasingly light-headed and stumbled back again, but he reached out and took hold of my upper arm, steadying me. He pulled me close to him, and I braced my hands on his chest, tipping my head back and staring up at him.

He looked around the club, and I watched as he narrowed his eyes, felt the growl leave him as the sound vibrated underneath my hands, which were still on his chest.

Before I could anticipate what was happening, he had my hand in his and led me out of the club. I looked back over my shoulder, trying to see Sherry, but the crowd was too thick.

And then we were outside, the cool air washing over me and sobering me up for just a second, before light-headedness took its place once more.

Professor Goode strode down the parking lot, opened the passenger-side door to a sleek black sedan, and helped me inside. I was too dumbstruck to say anything, to tell him I shouldn’t go, that my friend was still inside. But any protest lodged in my throat.

When he was in the driver’s side seat, the engine started, and he was pulling away from the club, I finally found my voice.

“Sherry is still in there.”

“She’s fine,” he grumbled out.

“I can’t just leave without telling her.” I could hear the slurred tone in my voice, that one drink really kicking my ass.

“You’re in no position to go back in there. You’re drunk and it’s not safe.” The way he spoke to me was akin to him scolding a petulant child. “Text her and tell her you’re fine, and you’ll call her in the morning.”

I didn’t move, didn’t say anything for long seconds. But then I found myself doing just that, reaching into my pocket for my cell, staring at the screen, and knowing I probably should have told him to let me go back into the club.

But the truth was, I didn’t want to. That wasn’t my scene, and I felt extremely uncomfortable being there, even before I’d been groped on the dance floor.

I typed out the text.

Hey. I ended up leaving. Wasn’t feeling the best. Caught an Uber. I’ll call you in the morning. Be safe, please.

I hit send and rested my head back on the seat, seeing the streetlights passing by in a blur. I closed my eyes as a headache started to form behind them, a soft groan leaving me.

I felt my cell vibrate and looked down to see a text from Sherry. I was surprised she’d been able to hear it, what with the deafening noise of the club.

Sherry: Why didn’t you tell me? I would have ditched Craig and taken you home.

No, it’s okay. You were having a good time. That’s not my scene anyway. I felt out of place lol.

I hit send and saw those three little dots pop up on the screen, letting me know she was replying.

“Get ahold of her?”

I looked at him. “Yeah.” I swallowed, my throat dry from the drink and how hot it had been in the club.

Sherry: I wish you would have gotten me. You’re okay though? Safe? Promise to text me when you get home and call me first thing in the morning.

I smiled. She really was a good friend, yet here I was in the car with our professor, having gotten a little too tipsy, and lying to her about what was really going on.

I promise.

I didn’t know what was going on, but what I did know was that I was glad Professor Goode had shown up when he did. I thought of what could’ve happened if he hadn’t been there, and it made my stomach twist into knots.

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