The Real

“Is there an intelligent response, Professor Hinkle?”

He gave me a side eye. “I knew it was trouble putting you two together.”

I glanced at Max. “I told you I’d get the dirt. Player, huh?”

Cameron winced.

“I plead the fifth,” he said, looking up at me through thick black lashes. “Those are the rules.”

I wrinkled my four-inch nose, and he pulled me closer. “Is it bothering you?”

“No. Of course not. I always assumed it, honestly.”

He frowned. “And why is that?”

“The way you look. And a man doesn’t get as confident as you are by not having a collection of sexcapades.”

He flashed me his pearly whites. “Sexcapades?”

“Were you the frat guy?”

“Maybe,” he said as he turned us around and leaned in. “Abbie, it was a long time ago.”

“I know. I’m cool with it. Just curious.”

He tried to read me for jealousy that wasn’t there, but I told him anyway.

“I’m not really the jealous type. I had a moment or two when I was younger, but I grew out of it. I think once you reach a certain age, you realize how pointless it is.”

“Well, if it helps my case, I stopped thinking with my dick a long, long time ago.”

“I’m sure. But I’m guessing when you were a player, you were still a gentleman.”

“I was,” he said with the twitch of his lips.

“Let me guess, you mopped up their tears with their ripped thongs after the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech before you made them breakfast.”

“I make good waffles,” he assured with a wry grin.

“I love waffles,” I said with a sigh.

It was clear we were both in the mood for waffles.

I stared down at him as he tugged off my pointy hat and ran his hands through my hair. His attentive fingers slid through my strands as he simultaneously rubbed my back.

“You’re really good at that.”

“At what?”

“Making me feel good.”

“Abbie, you are not a thong girl.”

“I know, and I’m proud of that fact. But I can’t say I haven’t been there. You know, chances are you were just a phase to them too.”

Surprise covered his features. “You’re taking up for them?”

“Absolutely. Maybe they used you for a night. We aren’t all shrinking violets. I’m willing to bet when most of them pulled on that thong, they weren’t thinking about their Sunday school lessons. They knew exactly what they were doing. It brought you to your knees, didn’t it?”