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I scan him up and down. He certainly doesn’t look like a professor. Sure, he’s dressed in a button-up and dressy pants, but that’s not what has my attention while his green gaze locks me in place. He has carved cheekbones, highlighted by a shadow of deep brown stubble. His eyelashes are impossibly long, and damn if it doesn’t look as if he walked straight out of my spank bank dreams. Who knew CU had professors like this? Based on my morning classes, I’d thought only my little California college had the kind of instructors that made you want to actually attend class.
Oliver quickly grabs my hand, tugging me away from the situation and the rampant audience. I’d almost completely forgotten what I was doing while checking out my new professor. We’re only a few steps away when Keegan’s unintelligible voice rises up behind me. I pull Oliver to a stop again, but this time he’s more insistent. “Not here,” he grinds out. “It won’t win you any points.” He leans closer to whisper. “You don’t think the Knights are watching you? You got your invite, but you can’t go around starting fights with current members, Edie. Come on, you have to be smart about this.”
I know he’s right, but I want to argue, anyway. I have to remind myself of the long game. Sure, I could blow up in Keegan’s face and tell him what a deplorable asshole he is for shitting on my sister all these years. I could make a scene, ask him what he was doing when his fiancée drowned, but all that would do is draw attention to me.
My neck heats. Confronting Keegan in public was stupid. The Knights won’t let me in if they think I’m looking into Dee’s death. It’s best they think I’m just taking over her role in the family. I’m now the only Astor heir. It’s my duty to become the polished, educated woman that will someday work for my family now that Dee’s gone.
The thought closes my throat, and I follow Oliver willingly afterward. I’ll have my time with Keegan, eventually. He’s not going to get away without me asking him a hundred different questions.
“He looked fucked,” Oliver murmurs.
I scoff. “Maybe he’s a better actor than me.”
“Maybe he’s a class A dick who realized what he lost as soon as it went away.”
My heart clenches. I suppose that’s possible. But he should’ve realized what he had in the first place. Delilah Astor was the best person I knew. She didn’t deserve the treatment he gave her. She deserved someone to love her like she loved him.
“Miss Astor?”
I turn on the sidewalk in front of the building that houses my next class. Mr. Barclay is striding toward me, and I certainly wasn’t hallucinating before. I could do without his stuffy clothes, but the man is sexy as fuck. I’d let him take me into his classroom and bend me over his desk any day.
“May I speak with you?”
I shrug. “I’m in your next class, right? You can do whatever you want with me for the next ninety minutes.” Wait, that sounded dirty. I clear my throat, my cheeks heating. “I am in your next class, right? You said so before.”
His lips form a thin line as he stares at me. Without answering, he turns his gaze to Oliver. “I’d like to speak to her alone, please.”
I squeeze Oliver, letting him know I’m okay. Afterward, I feel him leave rather than see it. Immediately, Mr. Barclay moves to the side of the building so we’re not blocking the doors. He looks me up and down, and I squirm in these clothes. I’m much more comfortable when I look like myself. I own that shit. In this, I’m just an imposter.
Instead of showing it any further, I pull my shoulders back. “Is there something I can help you with, professor?”
He smirks, gripping the leather satchel in his hands tighter. “Just wondering if you received something at your door this morning?”
My smile falters. He’s a Knight. I should’ve known. He instantly becomes less hot. Maybe by, like, ten percent, but he’s so damn fine, the difference hardly registers. “I did.”
“Be there tonight.”
“Tonight?”
He blinks, temporarily hiding his distinct green eyes. “Tonight is when we announce more instructions. You will be there, won’t you? Or was your father wrong? You’re not interested in joining?”
“I am,” I blurt. “Yes, I’m interested. I just didn’t know there was something tonight. My mistake.”
“Be there, Astor,” Professor Barclay instructs. “8 p.m.” He turns and strides for the doors, his next words spoken over his shoulder. “See you in class.”
Great. A Knight for a teacher. Not only that, asexyKnight for a teacher. The only Knights I’ve ever met were old because they were my father’s friends.
Oliver peeks his head around the glass doors as soon as Professor Barclay disappears inside. “You coming? What the hell was that about?”
I hurry toward the entrance, grateful for Oliver’s presence again. “He wanted to make sure I was going to the Knights meeting tonight. I didn’t even know there was one.” What the hell? Am I supposed to be a mind reader or something?
“Oh,” Oliver says quietly. “That’s weird.”
I eye him suspiciously, but he ignores my gaze. He’s my best friend, so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, but if he’s trying to sabotage me, Oliver and I are going to have words.
8
Oliver