I’ve felt Professor Scott’s eyes on me throughout the hour. My unwillingness to lift my eyes from my notebook and participate in the discussion may translate to my not paying attention. The reality of it couldn’t be more opposite. I am painfully aware of every second that ticks by, of every deep-throated word that passes over his lips. I could recite every single thing he has said, I am that focused.
I also know right down to the second when the dismissal bell will ring. When it does, I’m out of my seat so fast, that Annie doesn’t stand a chance of catching up. I can’t help it. I need air. I need distance.
This pattern continues the rest of the week. It spills over into work. I find myself watching every shadowed corner, my insides a twisted mess, because I don’t know whether I want to see that imposing figure lurking about or not.
But Professor Scott doesn’t try to engage me in class, and he doesn’t show up at the club. The week passes by without incident, and I begin to relax. No doubt, he feels just as off-kilter as I do. What happened between us is the kind of thing that causes scandals. It’s what gets people fired from their job. For both our sakes, we need to forget that night—and every other night—ever happened.
I walk into DJ’s, a bar located just off campus and search the crowded room. I’m supposed to meet Annie and a small group of our friends for drinks. I’ve been looking forward to it all week. The need to unwind and have some fun has stretched my nerves thin, and I feel about ready to snap. After the week I’ve had, this couldn’t have come at a better time.
Spotting our group at a table close to the stage where a local band is playing a cover of Weezer’s Back to the Shack, I wend my way through the crowd. My smile stretches ear-to-ear when I spot Annie sitting at the head of the table, her cheeks already flushed from the beer she holds in her left hand.
Approaching from the side, I hook her around the neck and pull her in for a hug before she can register it’s me. Her screech of surprise is short-lived, and then she is popping out of her chair to embrace me. “You made it!”
“You’re drunk!” I hold her away from me, laughing as I take in her glassy eyes and flushed cheeks.
Annie wags her finger at me as we both sit down at the table. “Tipsy, not drunk. You can’t get drunk off one beer.”
I raise my brows. “If you say so, doll. So, where’s your boy toy?” I glance around the table, seeing no sign of Jason.
“He’s going to be late.” She rolls her eyes. I can see why the party started without me.
Patting her hand in understanding, I open my mouth to offer some form of comfort, but am yanked out of my chair and into a strong pair of arms before I can utter a word.
“You come in and can’t even say hi?”
I laugh as the breath is squeezed out of me. “Brody! I didn’t see you when I came in.” I give him a peck on his whiskered cheek. “Even if I had, you know I have to show my girl some love before anyone else.”
Standing more than six inches taller than me, I have to look up into Brody’s smiling brown eyes as he sets me back on my feet. His wide, white smile and deep dimples are catnip to the average female population, and even I have to admit that I am not immune to his charms. But I’ve known Brody since he was a scrawny freshman, and have come to see him as a brother.
“I’ve known you longer,” he pouts.
“Sisters before misters,” I say, playfully punching him in his rock solid arm. Thanks to football, the man is built. Just another reason he’s such a lady-killer.
“And bros before hoes. You hanging out a while? Rio’s signed up for Karaoke and is hoping you’ll join him.”
“Oh no!” I hold up my hands and shake my head. “I’m off duty tonight.”
“What? You have to go. You make the perfect June.”
I made the mistake of singing “Walk the Line” once with Rio while drunk off my ass, and have allowed myself to be roped into singing it every weekend since. Tonight, I’m throwing in the towel.
Laughing, I back away toward the bar with my hands in the air. “Sorry, but Johnny’s going to have to go solo tonight. Unless you want to lend him a hand?” Flashing him a crude gesture, I spin around and disappear into the crowd.
If possible, it’s more crowded at the bar. And loud, too. I have to shout over the blaring music to get the bartender’s attention, and even then, I get nowhere. Turns out, my voice is too mousy to carry over the swell of noise.
I’m leaning over the counter, waving my hand to gain the older man’s attention, when I feel a wall of heat press against my side. Turning my head, I look over my shoulder and feel time screech to a sudden halt.