Page 13 of The Naughty Professor
I tugged self-consciously at my button-down, already regretting the wrinkled fabric.My glasses kept sliding down my nose, fogging slightly in the humid air.No one looked at me.No one cared I was there.I might as well have been invisible.
I clenched my fists.You’re just as good as any of them, I told myself.I’m not a loser, and I am trying.That’s the first step.
I squared my shoulders and made my way to the bar.
It took me forever to squeeze through the throng, bodies brushing against mine, laughter spilling into my ears.When I finally found a gap at the counter, I stood awkwardly, waiting for the shirtless bartender to notice me.
He didn’t.
He moved back and forth, pouring drinks with effortless flair, flashing smiles at men who shouted his name.His muscles rippled under the harsh light, a tattoo of wings stretching across his back.He leaned close to listen to an order, his lips brushing a customer’s ear, and the man threw his head back and laughed.
I lifted my hand halfway, then dropped it.I didn’t want to be rude.Didn’t want to wave like I was hailing a taxi.So I stood there.And stood there.Minutes stretched out, the crowd pressing tighter behind me.
Finally, the bartender glanced my way.His eyes widened slightly, as if surprised to find me there.He hurried over, towel slung over one shoulder.
“Sorry, man.I didn’t see you there.What can I get you?”
Story of my life.
“A—uh—a beer.Just a beer.”
He nodded, poured it quickly, and slid it across the counter.I handed him a crumpled ten, fumbling the change when he gave it back.I clutched the pint glass and drifted away, heart sinking.
The dance floor loomed ahead, a swirl of motion and light.Men danced together, hips grinding, arms wrapped around shoulders.Their laughter was sharp, intoxicating, and I longed—God, I longed—to be one of them.To have someone pull me close, to feel like I belonged.
Instead, I stood at the edge, watching.I told myself to move, to step forward, to at least try.But my feet stayed planted.My throat closed around the words I’d never say.
They’re no better than you, I whispered inside my head.They’re not.
But it was a lie I couldn’t swallow.
And then—I saw him.
Professor Thorne Carr.
He stood near the far side of the dance floor, drink in hand, surveying the crowd with his usual calm detachment.He looked even better here than in school, his jawline sharp, and his dark hair glinting under the lights.
My breath caught.I’d spent years stealing glances at him from across faculty meetings, listening to the rumble of his voice in the hall.To see him here, in my secret attempt at courage, felt like fate.
And he was alone.
Go.Talk to him.What’s the worst that can happen?
But my feet were glued to the floor.
I stared, frozen, willing myself to act.You have nothing to lose, I thought.Nothing.
And then, just as I drew a shaky breath, someone else moved first.
A man stepped up beside Thorne.Handsome, confident, his shirt open to reveal a chest like carved marble.He leaned in casually, kissed Thorne on the cheek, and Thorne smiled.
Something inside me cracked.
The smile I’d dreamed about, imagined turned my way—it belonged to someone else.
Tears blurred my vision.I turned away quickly, pushing through the crowd.The music was too loud, the lights too bright, the laughter slicing into me like knives.I shoved past men without apology, desperate to reach the door before anyone saw my humiliation.
Outside, the night air was cool, but it didn’t soothe me.My chest ached, and my throat burned.
