Page 13 of Full Service

“Sounds boring as fuck, but deal.”

Dr. Sinclair clears his throat and then stiffens when a shadow falls over us.

“Hi, Silas, can I speak with you a moment?” a male voice says from behind us. I glance up and see a man with styled brown hair, jeans, and a blazer staring at us. He looks young, not much older than me, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s a student here as well.

“Of course. Professor Brooks,” Dr. Sinclair says.

Well, shit. This guy is a professor? Damn, I need to graduate and fast. I have some stiff competition here.

Dr. Sinclair turns his gaze back to me, and I get the hint. I need to leave. Not that I want to. I want to stay here and listen to their conversation. Are they going to flirt? Is Dr. Sinclair going to invite Professor Brooks back to his place and show him his fish?

I sure hope not. For some reason, I’m feeling a little possessive over this guy, and I don’t even know him, let alone own him. And I mean, really, what do I have to offer besides this rockin’ bod?

And perhaps a spectacular blow job…and an even better fuck?

In reality, I have a dead-end job, a degree that’s not even finished, and a car that’s falling apart.

I do have excellent taste in food though and can make a mean artichoke.

I snort to myself as I stand up and throw my backpack over my shoulder. If only I could afford the stuff I actually like to eat.

“Alright, I’ll get going. See you later, Dr. Sinclair,” I say, and his gaze flashes up to mine for a second before he dips his chin slightly.

So, not even a goodbye then.

That’s okay. I’ll see him again soon and coax some more conversation from him.

And maybe something more. A touch, a look.

A kiss.

Nah, not gonna happen. I need to nip this little crush I have in the bud and move on.

That’s what I’m gonna do. Starting next week.

Or maybe next year.

Hell, maybe when I’m dead.

“You look happy today,” Mack says, leaning forward in his chair and applying eyeliner under his hazel eyes. He’s tall and lean with a stripper’s body for days. He was in porn before this job, and I may have watched a few of his videos. For science.

He’s a real pro.

Nothing like Silas though.

No, that man gets my obsessive engine going.

“What gives?”

“Just happy to be at work,” I say as I throw my stuff into the locker and shut it. It’s my Saturday night shift at The Back Door, a strip club that caters to both men and women. Well, mostly men. Although, I have been known to strip for women’s night. And let me tell you, the tips are divine. Women really shell out for a good show, and I’m thankful for that.

I need all the help I can get. I refuse to ask my dad for a penny. He’s already done too much for me. And my grandpa has no clue how bad it is for me.

I’m on my own. Stubbornly so.

They don’t need to worry about me.

“You are not. You’re such a fucking liar,” Mack says and then spins in his seat and arches a perfectly shaped brow at me. “We both hate it here and you know it.”

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