Page 27 of The Naughty Professor
I turned my head just enough to give them a grin and flex my chest.“Make sure you get my good side, boys.And if you tag me, the name is Jax.J-A-X.”
The class erupted.The cop, though, wasn’t laughing.“All of you—out.Phones down now.”His voice was sharp enough to slice through the hysteria.
There were groans and protests, but the students began filing out, some still snickering, others sneaking glances over their shoulders like they couldn’t believe what they’d just witnessed.The last one out—the pimply kid—whispered, “Legend.”The cop shut the door on his way out.
The woman stepped forward, her perfume clouding the air.She looked me up and down, her eyes lingering on my bare chest, and smiled like a cat spotting cream.
“Well,” she said, her voice low and throaty, “someone needs to make a man out of you.And I volunteer.”
I blinked, then shook my head.“Darling, I don’t swing that way.”
For a moment she pouted, lips pushed out like she was about to scold me.Then she laughed and patted my arm with her bejeweled hand.“Figures.The sexy ones are always gay.”
I chuckled, sliding my hands into my pockets—and felt leather under my fingers.A wallet.
Curious, I pulled it free, flipped it open.A driver’s license stared back at me: Felix Arthur Sterling.Ugh.The guy’s left eye was shut, and I’d swear there was drool on his chin.
Oh, fuck.That name.
I stared at the license, my grin slipping.A memory unfurled—sweaty hands, mumbling words, dropping glassware.Years of blending into the background.The serum and the needle.That moment of fiery heat before everything went dark.
Felix.
I was Felix.Or I had been.
The sadness was sudden and heavy, a weight pressing against my ribs.Poor bastard.All those years invisible, overlooked, waiting to be noticed.I almost mourned him.
“What’s wrong, sugar?”Lorna’s voice broke through, syrupy and curious.Now I remembered her.The drama professor.
I glanced up, my grin snapping back into place.“Nothing’s wrong.Just… realizing something important.”
She tilted her head.
I jammed the wallet back into my pocket and spread my arms wide.“I’m never going to be that pathetic loser again.Felix is dead, and I’m Jax now.And oh my God…” My eyes darted down to the chinos.“I must find some new clothes.”
Lorna laughed so hard her bracelets jingled.She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe me.“You’re a damn mess.”Then she leaned in, her eyes glinting.“Lucky for you, sweetheart—I’m free this afternoon.Want me to take you shopping?”
ChapterTen
Jax
Lorna’s car was older than sin and twice as loud.The Dodge clanked and wheezed its way into the Short Pump Town Center parking lot like it was on its last mile, its muffler growling so hard I was pretty sure the earth shifted under us.People turned their heads.Not at me, unfortunately—at the damn jalopy.
And to make matters worse, Lorna had bullied me into putting Felix’s shirt back on before we left campus.The ugly, wrinkled button-up clung to me like a crime scene.I tugged at the sleeves, scowling.
“Baby,” I told her, “if you think I’m walking into Nordstrom dressed like this, you’ve lost your mind.This shirt has war crimes written all over it.”
Lorna killed the engine, flashing me a glittery smile.“You can rip it off once you buy something else, Jax.Until then, keep it together.I don’t need security dragging us out before we even buy anything.”
I grumbled, shoved my hands in my pockets, and followed her out into the sunshine.We hadn’t even made it halfway across the lot before I spotted my first distraction.A guy in gym shorts, calves flexing, carrying a protein shake like he owned the place.I whistled low.
“Damn, baby.You run track or just run through people’s fantasies?”
He jerked his head up, startled, then broke into a grin before jogging off.Lorna slapped my arm with a jeweled hand.“Stop it.”
I smirked.“Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”
Two steps later, another hottie walked by—business casual, tall, jawline so sharp it could cut diamonds.I winked at him.“Daddy, you can brief me any day of the week.”
