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She has no idea, and I polish off the last of my drink, signaling the bartender for another. Driving music overhead sounds like “Everlong” by the Foo Fighters, and my insides rage in time with the drums. I can’t punch a student unprovoked.
“That thing you said earlier about Landon, what did that mean?” I don’t even care how O’Toole acted like a tool, but I need to distract myself.
“Oh,” she laughs, finishing her beer. “He’s just a hypocrite, bringing up all that shit about Efington at your party when I’m constantly turning him down for dates.”
Distraction accomplished.
My chin pulls in, and I have to clarify. “What happened to the invisible line and ‘one loses and we all lose’?”
“Exactly.” She shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “He acts like I’m in some gray area because I’m a grad student. I wish he’d take a hint and leave me alone already.”
“Would you like me to say something to him?”
“You are such a hero.” She places a hand on my forearm. “Thank you, but I’m a big girl. I can handle a pushy professor.”
“Still, if he gets too pushy, you let me know.”
At that moment, a body pushes up to the bar on my opposite side, and I turn, ready to snap when the words die in my throat. Reanna is standing beside me with an empty pitcher and an angry expression.
“Dog’s Den,” she calls to the bartender, and he takes it from her, propping it under the tap and flipping the handle down.
“Reanna.” Her name is lost in the noise of the bar.
She leans closer, her full breasts practically pressed against my forearm, the heat of her body tightening my muscles.
“I see you’re here withher.” Her accent is more pronounced, and her ice-blue eyes flash with cold fire.
I shouldn’t like it that she’s jealous. This afternoon, when things got tense in my office, I almost broke. I’m a physical guy, and the idea she could hold her own is as much a turn-on as her fuck-me body.
“Just having a friendly drink.” I should let her think I’m with Sharon, but I can't stop playing with fire, this blazing inferno I’m ready to dive into headfirst.
“Oh, hello!” Sharon leans around my shoulder holding my arm. “You did really well on that paper, by the way. Totally deserved theA.”
The bartender slides the pitcher to Reanna, but her eyes are fixed on Sharon’s arm clutching my bicep. They slowly rise to hers.
“You’re too kind.” It’s not entirely sarcastic, but it has an edge.
Reanna turns, carrying the pitcher back to the pool area, and I can’t take my eyes off the sway of her hips in those tight jeans. I can’t make my brain stop thinking how easy it would be to get beneath her sweater, ravish her breasts then come all over them.
Fuck me.
“Well, I hate to leave you this way,” Sharon teases, breaking my fantasy. “I’ve got an early class with Pamela in the morning.”
“You’re kidding.” I hold up the full tumbler of bourbon I’m holding. “Stay for one more.”
“Sorry, Prof, can’t.” She gives my arm a squeeze. “I’ll see you next week, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and all that jazz.”
With a small wave, she plunges into the growing crowd, heading for the door and leaving me at the bar to finish my drink alone. Automatically, my rebellious eyes go to the pool area, where Reanna stands behind her friend, with her arms crossed, watching me.
The other boy, the one who looks like a football player, says something, and the blonde laughs. Then that asshole Evan walks up to Reanna again, sliding his arm around her waist and speaking in her ear. His lips curl in a slimy smile, and I’m about to come off the bar when she elbows him away impatiently.
If that motherfucker thinks he’s going to touch her… Her eyes haven’t left mine, and I lift my chin. I want her to come back to me.
I tell myself it’s because I want to warn her about his reputation, make sure she’s aware he’s a player, but a dangerous hum low in my stomach says it’s a lie. It’s way more than that.
She’s already on the move, making her way to where I’m standing at the bar, moving through the crowd as if cutting through still water. Students drift out of her way, parting before an invisible force, the undeniable pull of our attraction.
I can’t take my eyes off her as she gets closer, coming straight to where I stand and stopping directly in front of me, daring me to do something.
