Page 29 of The Biker and the Professor
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“How many Club Cats do you have?”
Nero coughs around a mouthful of food and scowls at me. “The hell?”
We’re in a small, low-ceiling breakroom in the back, with the door closed and a dusty ceiling fan spinning above our heads. There’s a kitchenette, an old 60s fridge, and a large round table with folding chairs. A crappy little room compared to how massive the rest of the place is.
Nero has me perched on his lap while he scarfs down his stir fry…until I asked the question.
“Kendra,” I explain. “Earlier she said thatallyour Club Cats know not to bother you at work.”
“Goddammit. The hell is wrong with the women in my life?” he grumbles. “Kendra’s just bein’ a bitch. Don’t listen to her. How do you even know what a Club Cat is?”
“Cookie told me.” I roll my eyes at him. “I’m a full twelve years older than you, Gunnar. You don’t need to shelter me from your crass biker life.” I brush back flyaway hair from his face. “I get it. You people are…different. You talk differently, live differently, do things differently, and I’m okay with that. I’m willing to accept your lifestyle, but as I told you before, I’m not willing to share you.”
“Babe…” he trails off on a sigh. “Believe me, when it’s not work or school, it’s you. I’m not screwing around. No Club Cats, strippers, whatever the hell. I’m only about one woman and that’syou.” He spears a shrimp with the plastic fork and feeds it to me. “Kenny’s being a bitch on purpose, don’t let her in your head.”
“Okay.” I wait a few seconds before I ask, “Is it okay if I drop in like this when I miss you?”
“Usually, I don’t like it, but everything's different with you, babe. ‘Course you can come see me.” He points his fork at me, giving me a serious glare. “But that other shit, don’t do it again.”
Confused, I ask, “What do you mean?”
“All that money you paid behind my back. Been too busy to call you out on it, but I’m still pissed.”
“But I can afford it,” I defend. “And from what I gathered, it was causing friction between you and your co-workers. It wasn’t necessary.”
“And the fifty percent tip?”
Oh, that. “Kendra was being rude to me on the phone. I did that to spite her.”
He sets his fork down. “Get where you’re coming from, babe, but I still don’t like it. I don’t give a shit how much dough you’ve got in the bank, I’m your man, not your boy toy. You’re not my goddamn sugar mama. If I say I’ve got it, then I got it. Even if I’ve gotta work hard to make it happen. I take care of what’s mine, and you’re mine.” He lightly chucks my chin. “Tell me you understand that.”
I’m bothered and I’m turned on. I’m worried and I’m giddy. Warning bells are going off, but my brain keeps confusing them with wedding bells. Everything is hazy. Everything is scary. But, obstinately ignoring it all, I reply, “I understand.”
“Good.”
He picks up his fork and feeds me another shrimp.
Pressing my face into his musky neck, I chew and swallow, before asking, “Am I seeing you tonight?”
As he takes a gulp of coconut water, I touch two fingers to his Adam’s apple to feel it bob. I’m so obsessed with this man. “You wanna see me?”
Is that a serious question? “Do you even have to ask?”
He continues to eat as he talks. “Don’t know. I’m gonna be working late tonight. Might be too tired to ride that far. Don’t wanna fall asleep and crash, babe. That’s why you haven’t seen me all week.” He offers me a piece of broccoli and I lift my head from his neck to take it. “Got a lot of work backed up on me ‘cause I’ve been taking on some solo jobs so that I’ll be able to meet the deadline for next semester’s tuition.”
That’s another thing I can easily help with, but Nero’s a man’s man who’ll never accept it. “Well, what if I stay over at your place tonight?”
He laughs at this. “C’mon, Professor. You’ve seen my spot, right?”
“Yes, I have. And I also saw that it has everything you need.” I say. “I keep a ‘just-in-case’ change of clothes in my car, and I have a stack of assignments that needs to be graded. I can do that until you’re done working. If I get bored, I’ll switch to watching TV.”
“Got no cable,” he pushes back.
“Do you have Wifi?” When he nods, I say, “Great! Then I can stream Netflix on my laptop.”
He bites his lip, fighting back a smile. “You really miss me, don’t you?”
