To Professor, With Love (Forbidden Men 2)

I thought Lowe was going to leap across the bar and strangle my pathetic excuse for a roommate, so I beat him to the punch. “Ignore him,” I said, slinging my hand out to smack Ten on the side of the head. “Like I said; sore vagina.”

Glaring at me, Ten sniffed. “At least I’m not banging my teacher for a good grade.”

Oh, that did it.

“Go away.” I pointed at his face and sent him the stare of death until he rolled his eyes and pushed from the bar to saunter off. Once his back was turned, I couldn’t help but slice a worried glance toward Lowe. “I’m not—”

Lowe lifted his hands and waved me quiet, telling me I didn’t have to explain myself. “Hey, cougars aren’t my thing. But if you—”

“She’s not a cougar,” I hissed in defense before I could stop myself. “I mean...shit.” I stabbed my fingers through my hair, my mind skipping to figure out how to talk my way out of this because now it totally sounded like I was banging my teacher. “I’m not sleeping with any of my teachers, okay. Butt Licker over there is just harassing me because I somehow miraculously sweet-talked my hard-ass English professor into letting me rewrite a paper. That’s it.”

Fuck, I sounded too defensive, didn’t I?

“Kavanagh and Gamble sitting in a tree,” Ten—the five-year-old trapped in a horny twenty-one-year old’s body—sang from across the room. “K.I.S.S.I.N.G.”

I shut him up at that point by grabbing a football from a shelf behind the bar and winding back my arm to take aim. When I hit him square in the back, he grunted and went sprawling forward to the floor.

Lowe whistled, clearly impressed by my skill. “Lucky shot.”

“Lucky?” I cranked my head around to gape at the new guy. “Obviously you have no idea who I am.”

“Uh...” His eyebrows wrinkled as he shook his head. “No. Who are you?”

“Son, you are in the presence of a local legend.” With a sweeping bow, I introduced myself. “Noel Gamble, beloved quarterback for the university’s football team.”

“Oh, okay.” Lowe nodded as recognition sparked in his gaze. “I didn’t transfer over until this semester, but I heard how well the team did this year. And I’m pretty sure I’ve heard your name float around campus.”

With a hoot of pride, I called toward my roommate. “Hear that, Ten? Even the newbie’s heard of me.”

Ten snorted. “You’re only popular because we make you look good.”

I laughed and turned back to Lowe. “That’s Asswipe, otherwise known as Oren Tenning. But most everyone calls him Ten. If you ask me, though, he’s more like a Zero. He’s a third-string receiver for the team.”

“Third string my ass. I played more than you did this season.”

True. But I didn’t admit it aloud. Ignoring him, I asked Lowe, “So how much do you know about mixing drinks?”

The rueful grin and lifting of his eyebrows told me he knew absolutely nothing. I sighed, already ready for this night to be over. “Awesome. Let’s get started learning then, shall we?”

I was giving him the lay of the land, showing him how to mix up the most basic of drinks and run the cash register when Pick slipped in right before opening, pissing me off with his usual tardiness. Personality-wise, the guy was my favorite coworker, but damn, sometimes he didn’t make it in until after we opened.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” I called, tossing him a waist apron so it hit him square in the face. “You got the floor with Ten tonight. The twins quit. This is the new guy, Mason Lowe. Now get to work.”

My abrupt little speech, getting him up to speed, only made him smile. The silver studs in his eyebrow twitched. “Damn, your bossy little mouth never fails to turn me on, Gamble.”

I snorted because Pick Ryan was more of a man-whore than Ten and I put together. I guess women totally went for the tatted-up, metal-faced, bad-boy image. But if you asked me, I’d say he was the furthest thing from a true bad boy as a guy could get.

He worked his ass off with two jobs to support himself, plus he respected women more than anyone I knew. He was always the first to jump in and kick ass if some drunk idiot was harassing a female, and he knew exactly what to say to make them happy. He just loved everything there was about the ladies, and they loved everything there was about him.

“Pick! My man!” Ten bounded forward, practically tackling the new arrival. “Thank God you didn’t quit too. Looks like we have the floor tonight, fucker. You got your cup on?”

When he balled his hand into a fist and went to roshambo Pick in the junk, Pick slapped his hand down. “Hey, hey. That’s not a toy, princess. Some lucky lady may need to use it later on.”

Ten snorted. “Whatever, douche. You know you’re saving yourself for me.” He really mauled the other guy then, dry humping his leg.

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” His voice mild, Pick shoved Ten back by the forehead. “I’ve got a headache.”

“What the fuck ever. You totally want me.”