Page 18 of Directing You
“You know what you need?” she said, smiling.
I grinned back at her wicked expression. “I don’t know, but I’m guessing you’re going to tell me.”
“You need to meet a man who will take your mind off the professor. What do you call him?”
“Ah. Professor Cockhead. He’s even in my phone as that.” I flipped my phone over on the counter and pulled it up to show her.
She snorted a laugh. “Well, don’t look now, but there’s a guy who entered a few minutes ago and he’s been staring at you nonstop.”
I lifted a brow at her. Normally, on a night like this, flirting would be the furthest thing from my mind. But now? Maybe Rosa was right. Every night since I met Reid, I’d been falling asleep to thoughts of him. Touching myself, remembering the feel of his fingers on me, his lips, his tongue. I shivered, clenching my thighs together as my core squeezed with the memory. Maybe I needed the feel of another person’s touch to wash my slate clean. Rinse him from these visceral fantasies.
“Where is he?” I whispered.
She cleared her throat, covering her mouth with her wineglass as she whispered, “He’s over your shoulder at my one o’clock.”
“Whose one o’clock?” I whispered back.
She rolled her eyes. “Jesus.Yourone o’clock.”
I thought for a moment, biting my lip. “But wouldn’t that mean he’d be in front of me—
“Oh, my god, Hazel. You are twelve o’clock. He is over your shoulder at one.”
“Okay,” I hissed. “But you know, this is why the whole ‘o’clock’ thing is stupid and never works.”
Her jaw twitched. “Would you quit stalling and sneak a peek?”
Setting my wineglass down, I ran my fingers though my hair. “How do I look?” I whispered.
“Perfect,” she mouthed, winking at me. I rolled my eyes at her, because we both knew that perfection was far from my cutoffs jean shorts and long-sleeved T-shirt. I stroked my fingers along my neck, looking over my shoulder in what I hoped was a covert way to make eye contact.
Malachite eyes met mine, and I felt my mouth go dry when I saw the handsome man resting his weight on his elbows at the bar. It was Professor Bradley, and he was staring right at me.
His gaze swept down my body, his mouth twitching at the corners in that sexy way it did when he was trying not to smile. The smile dropped as he cleared his throat and quickly looked around the bar…probably checking to make sure we didn’t recognize anyone else from the program.
He pushed off the bar and crossed around some people sitting at the bar to take the empty stool next to me. “I thought it was you over here,” he said quietly. “How are you?”
I swallowed as the knot in my stomach doubled in size. “I-I’m fine.”
“You two know each other?” Rosa asked.
I nodded. It was the first time I’d seen him anywhere other than class since…well, since we’d been in the Champagne Room. The blood rushed in my ears, and my breath seemed to get caught in my chest. His look was more casual than it was when he was teaching. Instead of his usual button-down shirt and dress pants, he was in a light blue polo shirt and charcoal-gray jeans that hugged the thick muscles of his powerful thighs.
We sat there staring at each other in silence for several seconds before I felt Rosa lean forward, extending a hand. “I’m Rosa. Hazel’s best friend.”
His gaze dipped, head tilted curiously before he slowly looked up at me…then to Rosa, taking her hand. “Nice to meet you, Rosa… I’m Professor Cockhead, apparently.”
My face went searing hot, and I felt a sharp breath lodge in my throat. How did he know that?Oh, shit. No. No, no, no.I glanced down where my phone was face up, his contact info and number illuminated in front of us. “Oh my God.” I dropped my hand down over the phone, covering it even though it was too late.
Rosa’s inhalation morphed into a snicker. “Ohhh. So,you’reProfessor Cockhead,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I don’t even want to take a guess as to what you’ve heard,” he said. Though to most people it would sound like a joke, I knew better. The bartender came by with a tumbler of whiskey, delivering it to Reid.
There was another uncomfortably long pause, and Rosa shifted, tugging her phone from her pocket. With a very fake gasp, she stood and threw four twenty-dollar bills onto the bar. “Oh my gosh, I just realized I have a study group in ten minutes,” she said, grabbing her purse and slinging it over her shoulder.
Rosa was good at a lot of things… but acting was not one of them.
I snapped my head in her direction, glaring at her. “A study group on a Friday night?”
