Bad Boys Do (Donovan Brothers Brewery 2)

How dare he? After everything he’d put her through, how dare Victor throw her to the dogs with such casual viciousness? She wasn’t protected by her career, as he was. She didn’t even have a contract, much less tenure. Given any doubt at all, the most prudent thing for the college to do would be to simply send her on her way.

By the time she gathered up her things and headed for her car, Olivia was near tears. If Victor made her cry at work, she’d ruin him. She’d destroy his world. And she could, which was why his pettiness was so shocking.

Luckily for Victor, she managed to hold her tears back until she got to the car, and by then the heat of her fury had burned out any desire to cry. The drive to Victor’s house—their house—passed in a blur. She pulled into the driveway, satisfied to hear her tires squeal against the cement. That had only happened one other time.

Smiling bitterly, she threw her car into Park and descended upon his door like the angel of death. That was what she felt like, at any rate. She probably looked more like a mildly irritated college instructor in a dress and heels. The sound of the doorbell echoed through her pounding head.

When there was no answer, Olivia was sure he was gone. He’d put in one little phone call that could ruin her life, and then he’d blithely hopped on a plane to Hawaii. That arrogant, selfish, no-good… Olivia jabbed the doorbell over and over again, as if that could defuse her fury.

“Hold on, damn it!” a male voice called from inside.

Olivia froze, her finger poised above the doorbell.

The door whooshed open. “What the hell do—?” When Victor saw her, his words died.

Olivia automatically took a step back at the sight of Victor wearing nothing but a towel. His short brown hair dripped water down his temples. “Oh,” she breathed.

“Olivia?” he gasped. “What’s going on?”

She gathered up her outrage like a slipping shawl. “I need to speak to you.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now.”

“Okay, fine. Come in. Is it all right if I put on some pants, or would you prefer me like this?”

She waved him away and stepped into the living room alone, aware of the horrid irony of being invited into her own home. She’d decorated this room, and every other room in the house. Now it felt strange to stand here with her arms crossed as if she were afraid to accidentally break something. And yet…there was no sadness. She might have decorated this house, but she’d done it according to Victor’s desires, not hers. It had needed to be a home where he could host parties and serious dinners. The rooms were designed to impress, not for comfort.

She heard Victor’s footsteps above her, and felt another wave of strange nostalgia. She’d lived in this house for so many years, and she knew all the sounds and quirks of it. But now she just wanted to leave.

Olivia crossed her arms tighter and felt a headache crawl up her neck and tighten around her skull. When she heard Victor’s step on the stairway, she turned to face him.

He’d put on pants and a shirt, but he’d left the shirt unbuttoned. Was he taunting her? Trying to tempt her? Granted, she’d told him often enough that he had a nice chest, and she’d meant it, but her definition of “nice” had changed in the face of Jamie’s body.

He dragged the towel across his hair one last time, then slung it over his shoulder. “What can I do for you, Olivia?”

“I can’t believe you,” she snarled.

“What?” His eyebrows floated high in innocence.

“Did you call my department chair?”

“Why would I do that?”

“To get me fired!”

Victor shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

What a damn liar. “Somebody called my department chair and told him I was sleeping with a student. Now, who do you think that could have been?”

“It wasn’t me. Why would I do that?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t pretend you weren’t pissed about Jamie.”

Victor smirked. “I wouldn’t say I was ‘pissed,’ as you so delicately put it.”

Another lie. She’d seen the outrage in his eyes. “Really, Victor? How would you describe your feelings, then?”