Page 48 of Teacher's Pet

The grin stayed, but his left eye twitched, just enough to notice.

“So you’re the professor,” he said.

“Yes,” I answered, slow and wary.

“You don’t think that’s weird? Fucking a student?”

I clenched my jaw. “Who—Ryan?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You expect me to believe you’re meeting him for… what? Office hours? A little tutoring?”

“I don’t care what you believe,” I said, my patience thinning to a thread. “Where is Ryan?”

The smirk slipped. “Relax. He’s coming.”

He stood, walked a few paces toward the bar, rolled his neck, then came back and leaned close. I caught a sour trace of whatever he’d been drinking earlier. His face had that arrogant confidence that made my knuckles itch.

“And just so you know,” he said, low, “you’re not special. Ryan pulls this shit with every guy until they’re eating out of the palm of his hand.” He looked me over like he was measuring me for a coffin.

My grip on the glass tightened.

He smiled nastily. “I’ve done things to that blondie you could only dream of. So unless your dick’s magical, don’t expect him to be falling in love or anything.”

My stomach turned. These were the people Ryan hung around? Him?

Derek scoffed, straightened, and tossed a twenty on the table. “Piece of shit,” he muttered, walking away.

I downed the whiskey and checked my watch again. My wife was still hours from home. Ryan was still nowhere. And Devon’s smug little act had left a sour taste in my mouth.

Screw this.

I left a tip and stepped outside. Cold air slapped my face.

An hour. I’d waited almost an hour. For what?

I pushed off from the wall, ready to head for my car, then the ground tilted beneath me.

I caught myself on the nearest outdoor chair, the cold metal biting into my palm. Tried to push up again, but the motion sent a sharp crack of pain through my skull. My vision fractured, edges warping, colors bleeding together.

What the hell?

I sank into the chair, palms pressed hard against my temples. The sounds of the bar dulled, as if I were hearing them through water. No matter how I fought to focus, my thoughts kept slipping.

Through the haze, a voice threaded in.

I’d know it anywhere.

Smooth. Warm. Dangerous.

“Do you need help, professor?”

Chapter 10

RYAN

“Ry,” Devon deadpanned, his knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. “This isn’t okay.”

“Shut up. You said you’d help me.” I shot him a glare, my arm curled protectively around Mr. Thorne as he leaned against me.