Page 62 of The Naughty Professor
“I prefer ‘visionary innovator.’”
“Yeah, well, I prefer tequila, but here we are.”
My phone buzzed again—Thorne.
Are you okay?You seemed different when I spoke to you earlier.
My fingers moved before I could think.
Hey sexy professor.Feeling fantastic.Got a new dancing gig.Badlands.Tonight.You coming???
ChapterTwenty
Jax
Felix’s car sounded like a dying lawn mower.Scratch that—like a dying lawn mower being choked by a poltergeist.
I slammed the steering wheel as it gave another high-pitched whine.“I swear, Junie, this thing’s one good pothole away from spontaneous combustion.When I’m done performing tonight, remind me to trade this piece of shit in for an actual car.Maybe something with doors that aren’t held together by Jesus and superglue.”
Juniper sat in the passenger seat, her black lipstick pursed, her eyes on the window instead of me.She hadn’t said a word in at least five minutes, which for her was basically a medical emergency.
“You alive over there, cupcake?”I asked, swerving around a speed bump like it personally offended me.
She blinked.“Fine.Everything’s fine.”
“Fine,” I repeated, mocking her tone.“Oh good.I was worried my favorite goth was suddenly replaced by a hostage.What’s with the quiet?You usually never shut up.”
She gave me a weird little half-smile.“Just thinking.”
“About what?”I grinned.“How blessed you are to be seen with a star?”
She rolled her eyes.“Something like that.”
The sound of her voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.Too calm.Too… civil.That wasn’t Juniper.Juniper was chaos in eyeliner form.But I wasn’t about to let her mood ruin my night.Badlands was waiting, and after last night’s performance, I had fans to entertain, egos to inflate, and men to play with.
By the time we pulled into the parking lot, the thump of bass from the club was already shaking the cracked asphalt.A line wrapped around the building.Neon lights flashed, rainbow strobes spilling over a crowd of boys in mesh shirts, drag queens in sequins, and what looked suspiciously like a gaggle of college kids holding phones like they were about to film the second coming.
“Holy shit,” I said, leaning out the window.“Is that—?”
Juniper followed my gaze.“Half of VCU, apparently.”
I laughed.“Guess the word got out.Don’t tell me you’re surprised.Who wouldn’t want a repeat performance of this?”I gestured to myself with a little flourish.
“Modesty doesn’t suit you,” she muttered, climbing out of the car.
“Neither does polyester, but Felix’s wardrobe didn’t leave me much choice,” I shot back, slamming the door.The muffler gave one last death rattle, like it was begging for mercy.“Seriously, this thing belongs in a museum exhibit called How Not to Engineer a Vehicle.”
We made our way to the entrance, cutting past a group of college kids giggling and whispering.A few of them stopped mid-sentence when they saw me.One girl with purple hair gasped.“Oh, my God, Dr.Sterling?”
The way she said it—half awe, half disbelief—made me grin.“Dr.Sterling’s dead, baby.I’m Jax.”
Her jaw dropped.“You mean—like—?”
“Like the one and only.”I winked.“Felix is a sweet little nerd who likes lab coats and existential dread.I’m the upgrade.”
They squealed, shoving each other and holding up their phones.One guy started chanting, “Jax!Jax!Jax!”and soon the whole damn line joined in.I threw my arms wide like a queer preacher on Pride Sunday.
Juniper muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Oh God, it’s starting.”
