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But Pick was beating me to her. I grabbed his arm and jerked him back, unsettling his balance.
“What the fuck?” he said, stumbling into me.
“I changed my mind. You can have those three. I want her instead.”
He snickered and glanced back at the woman who was busy with her head bent, searching for something in her clutch purse that matched the fabric of her dress. When he looked back toward the flirty girls, a slow grin spread across his face.
“Well, hell, Gamble. I think this is the first time you’ve preferred quality over quantity. I’m impressed.”
“Just go take care of the airheads.” I pushed him toward the three who were still lingering by the bar.
He laughed at my obvious fixation with the lone woman, but complied, strolling toward the trio.
I took a deep breath, a little anxious about the first impression I was going to give, and stepped toward her. She didn’t notice my approach, which gave me a moment to plan my strategy.
In the end, I decided to go simple.
“What can I get you?” I asked, setting my hands on the edge of the bar and bracing my arms wide because I knew damn well how doing that made my muscles strain through my shirt. I let my slow smile start to spread as she lifted her face. Chicks always claimed to dig my smile as much as they did my biceps.
She looked up, and I held my breath, waiting for the moment our eyes connected. A jolt tore through me. I’d been hoping for a pretty face, and fuck, I wasn’t disappointed. But the crushed emotion I saw in a pair of green, green eyes caught me off guard. They were wide and lined with some dark, smoky eye makeup that made her look all sexy and edible. But so very, very sad. My protective instincts kicked into gear, ready to rip apart whoever had hurt her.
Then I glanced at her mouth. Her lips were ripe and edible and shaped divinely, just like...wait a second. I knew those lips. They were way too familiar, even as they parted in surprise.
“Holy shit.” I pulled back, zipping my gaze back up to her eyes and then all around her face, to take in the entire picture.
The fucking hot woman was my fucking hot English professor.
Jaw dropping, I couldn’t have contained my shock if I tried.
“Dr. Kavanagh?”
What. The. Hell? This wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. I’d been craving some woman to help me take my mind off my teacher. And the universe had sent me her wearing a hot black dress instead? Un-fucking-believable.
I was immediately pissed for two reasons. This was totally not helping me get over my fixation on her. And the mystery woman who might’ve actually helped me do that turned out to be just as forbidden as she was, because they were one and the same. I narrowed my eyes and clenched my teeth. Well, this was just peachy.
***
"I wondered if he realized that the way he looked at me was far more intimate than copping a feel could ever be.” - Maggie Stiefvater, Shiver
***
~ASPEN~
I’d been stood up. I hadn’t talked to Philip since the day before when we’d revised our plans, but I figured we were still on.
Oh, how wrong I was.
But I was already here, so I stayed and kept looking for him. I didn’t want to become a lame loser and go home alone in the nicest, sexiest dress I owned to sulk on the couch as I ate bon-bons and watched reruns of my one true love, Damon, on The Vampire Diaries. I wanted my damn date to show.
So, here I wandered through clusters of partying friends, feeling alone and abandoned. Uncomfortable to find myself surrounded by so many college students, I wondered why Philip had even chosen this place. Wouldn’t he want a break from this crowd?
Thank God, no one had recognized me as their English professor yet, but I’d certainly recognized a few of them. Or maybe I should say no one recognized me until I finally approached the bar after searching the place for Philip for the past forty-five minutes.
But as one of my student’s eyes widened in shock and he uttered, “Dr. Kavanagh?” I gaped back at the football star, deciding Joseph Conrad had been a genius when he’d written Heart of Darkness and coined the phrase, The horror, the horror! Because that was exactly how I felt. Absolutely horrified.
Number one way to make my night a living hell: toss Noel Gamble into the mix while I was being stood up on a date.
I moaned out a little whimper under my breath, wondering what I’d ever done to karma to make it kick me in the tits like this. If Philip showed up now, I’d never be able to concentrate on him because Noel looked incredible in that tight black shirt. And his bulky arms were so...
