To Professor, With Love (Forbidden Men 2)

But I didn’t go to her.

“Hey, you take care of her for a little while,” I told Mason, tugging the drink from his hand and handing him the one in mine so we could trade places.

He sent me a surprised glance. I didn’t give him a chance to refuse, because I was already delivering his order to his customer. I barely paid the middle-aged guy any notice as I covertly watched every move Lowe made. He approached Aspen and set her soda on the counter. She turned to him with a ready smile, which only faltered when she discovered he was serving her. Then she glanced my way and I rushed to look busy.

Lowe stuck around for a couple minutes, saying something I couldn’t hear from my end. She responded with a nod and vague smile. His posture turned flirtier than I’d ever seen it before, and I had to scowl, ready to kick his ass. What the hell did he think he was doing?

Instead of batting her lashes at him, or blushing, or even—God, help me—giggling, Aspen merely slid her gaze to me. Jesus, she sat right in front of Catnip Lowe and her eyes still wandered my way. I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with this. Awareness spiked through me and I wanted to claim my woman so badly I actually balled my hands into fists to fight the urge. Tugging her attention back to Lowe as if it took everything she had to focus on what he was saying, she nodded and replied to whatever he’d asked.

I rested my hands on the bar to catch my breath. It felt as if I’d just run a mile. And my skin was alive with this oversensitive prickly sensation. Jesus, I hoped I wasn’t breaking out into hives. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable feeling. It was too new to be cozy, but I craved more of it. I wanted to look at her again just to hoard up more of the rush that just looking at her gave me.

“So, did she pass your test?” Lowe asked quietly as he appeared at my side.

I hadn’t even realized I had been testing her until that moment, but hell, she’d passed. “With flying colors,” I uttered. Jesus. I glanced sideways at him, needing help. Seriously. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I shouldn’t—” What was I saying? I couldn’t confide in Lowe about this. The less people who knew, the better. But I kept blustering, because I was so damn rattled. I needed some kind of guidance. “We can’t—”

He patted my back dolefully. “It’s always the one you shouldn’t want that you end up wanting the most.”

With a lift of my eyebrows, I waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t. He just sent me a knowing grin and leaned in confidentially close. “But if she’s worth it, nothing else matters. You’ll find a way. And you’ll sacrifice whatever needs to be sacrificed to get there.”

Realizing he was talking about him and his girlfriend, I watched him thoughtfully as he turned away and stacked a couple dirty glasses into a tub to be taken to the back for washing. I swear he’d just given me his blessing to mess around with my freaking professor.

If she’s worth it, his words rumbled through my head. I sent her a glance, and everything perked to attention. No one had ever affected me the way this woman did. She stole the breath from my lungs with a single glance, and made me feel more alive and more aware of every sense I possessed than anyone I’d ever met. She could even piss me off more than anyone else had ever pissed me off before. She had a power over me that should’ve scared the shit out of me, but it only drew me to her harder.

“You seriously like being with just one girl?” I grabbed Lowe’s arm when he tried to pass by. “Monogamy, and relationships, and all that shit. Is it really worth it?”

He paused and lifted an eyebrow. After studying me thoughtfully for a moment, he grinned. “If it’s the girl, then hell yes.” Shrugging free of me, he took off down the hall toward the kitchen.

And I started toward Aspen without even thinking. I was halfway across the bar before I realized what I was doing. I was going to go after her, and I was going to make her mine.

But something on the television screen over the bar caught her attention. She tilted her head and squinted her eyes as if trying to hear what was being said. When her eyes widened and lips parted, I knew it was bad.

“What?” I demanded, stopping across from her at the bar and trying to crane my neck around to see the television.

The words on the bottom of the screen had my skin icing over with dread. Ellamore Sex Scandal.

I sliced a look to Aspen. When she met my gaze, her face was sheet white. So I scrambled for the remote under the counter. When I found it, I pushed the closed caption button.

ESU assistant volleyball coach, Vander Wilson, was fired this afternoon for having illicit relations with freshman volleyball player, Allison Belfries. According to allegations, Wilson and Belfries’s affair started early in the season and lasted until this week when Wilson’s wife caught the two together. But when Wilson tried to end the relationship, Belfries went to the head coach to confess everything. University officials dismissed him immediately and have declined to make a comment at this time. More on that later...

“I need to go,” Aspen gasped, jerking her purse off the bar as she hopped off her stool. “I can’t... This is... I’m sorry. Can I pay my tab now?”

I turned to her, already knowing what I’d see and dreading it. She wouldn’t even look at me. Her cheeks were stained with guilt and her throat worked as she swallowed convulsively.

“Aspen,” I started, ready to fight for her. But what the hell? I’d just decided she was worth it; why would the universe pull the rug out from under us like that?

“Don’t,” she pleaded, her voice strained and eyelashes damp.

I crumbled. Here, I’d been all prepared to argue our case. We weren’t like them. Neither of us was married; we weren’t being unfaithful. And if I remembered correctly, Coach Wilson was in his late thirties. He was probably twenty years older than Allison Belfries.

But the bleak, troubled, guilty gleam in Aspen’s green eyes reminded me our situation would probably be worse, actually. Volleyball wasn’t nearly as big of a deal at Ellamore as football was. And Aspen was actually one of my professors, responsible for giving me my literature grade. The media would make a hell of a lot bigger deal out of us than they would from some coach/player relationship. And it’d all fall back on her. She’d get the heat, the dirty names, the ruined future. She’d get everything, while I’d get off scot-free.

No matter how much I wanted her, no matter how amazing she made me feel, I couldn’t do that to her. The sacrificing part was all hers, not mine.

I hated that.

Taking a physical step back, I nodded my understanding and relinquished my fight to try to keep her. But God, it sliced me in two to let that hope go.

“Here’s your tab, Dr. Kavanagh.” Lowe appeared beside me, already back from his kitchen trip.