Another Friday night alone. I wrap my coat tighter around me as I walk toward the discount movie theater on Main St. Fridays are my favorite, the Regal Oceanside Cinema plays back to back showings of classics like Casa Blanca and Psycho. Tonight's showing is one of my favorites movies - Roman Holiday with Audrey Hepburn. Vicky would kill me if she knew I came to see it alone. Coming from a family in the entertainment industry, movies have become a huge part of my life. It also helps that you're basically shunned in my family if you're not a movie buff.

I pay the $3 movie ticket and then head inside for popcorn. My body slams into someone just as I'm about to step inside the movie theater. The force of the impact sends me spiraling forward, but firm hands catch me as I narrowly tumble down the row in front of me.

"Shit. Watch where you're go -"

The words die on my lips as I look up into a pair of familiar green eyes. Professor Grant? The is rocking a James Dean look with jeans, a white t-shirt and a leather jacket. It's almost the exact outfit he wore the night at the club. He penetrates me with his shred gaze, taking his time going over my disheveled appearance. He smells good. Like leather and cologne. The two remind me of summer nights and making out with high school boys in the back seat of my father's mustang. I blow a strand of hair from my face and finally step out of his grasp after several intense seconds.

"Do you always make it a habit to crash into things like you're being chased by a serial killer?" His tone is dry despite the hint of humor behind his words.

"Do you make it a habit of touching-" the smart ass remark dies on my lips as I spot a blonde little girl standing next to him. Her hand reaches out to grab his hand as she steps beside his pant leg. "Oh, hello."

She finally smiles at me and the sight of it its nearly damn contagious. Her eyes are the same color as sea foam, a striking mix of blue and green. It's the only similar feature Professor Grant and her seem to share. Who is this adorable little girl? Professor Grant glances down at her and then back at me. He's silent for a brief yet awkward moment as I stand there waiting to be introduced. Maybe he doesn't want to introduce me?

"This is Olivia, my daughter."

Daughter? He has a daughter? The furrow over his eyes deepen as he studies my face. I'm not sure what's more shocking the fact that he procreated with his cheating ex-wife or that he's managed to raise a sweet little girl despite being an asshole.

"It's nice to meet you," I smile awkwardly. "Olivia is one of my favorite names."

"Thank you," she grins. "Are you my daddy's girl friend?"

Oh. Awkward.

Professor Grant clears his throat and shoots me small smile before addressing his daughter. He points at me with her hand still intertwines with his.

"Olive, this is a student of mine…Josie," he says, looking back at his daughter. "She's still learning some words have multiple meanings."

Did he just call me by my first name? Olivia looks up at Professor Grant with a wide grin. This little girl loves her daddy and there's something sickeningly adorable about it. Olivia looks at me and then grabs my hand. The gesture takes me by surprise. Her friendly demeanor is disarming. I refuse to like Professor Grant but this little girl is sneaking her way into my heart. A skill she must've acquired from her father.

"Is my daddy a good teacher?" she asks.

I want to laugh. A bright flush kisses my skin as I glance up at Professor Grant. He stares at me with a slight smirk to his lips. I linger a little too long on his lips and he catches me. Shit. Look away. My heart races like I'm back in middle school standing in front of a crush. Waiting to find out if I'll be rejected or kissed.

"He's the best," I grin. "Maybe you can teach our class someday."

She laughs and shakes her head with a shy smile. Professor Grant leans down to whisper something in her ear and hands her a $20. She nods her head yes and then skips over to the concession stand behind us. He waits until she's out of ear shot before speaking.

"The best?" he asks, standing back up and taking a step closer. "Ms. Wilde, you haven't seen the best of me." The air between us grows heavy. The smell of his cologne hits me as he leans into and places his lips next to my ear. I shiver involuntarily and I curse my body for reacting so. "The best is you bent over my legs with your ass in the air and your pussy bare to me. Begging me to lick you."

"I don't beg," I say, flushed at the raw ache building between my legs. Memories of the poem I was forced to read sends my heart racing. How can this man be so annoying and yet turn me on so easily?

"You'll beg for me," he says a little too confident. The arrogance of this man is astounding. I'm tempted to tell him that he's all talk but I fear it's not true. Parker would keep his word and I would lose my heart. Olivia returns with a bag of popcorn, and hands her father the change from the $20. She looks up at me and extends the bag my way.

"Are you going to see the movie with us?" The excitement in her voice is adorable. Before I have the chance to object, Professor Grant interrupts me.

"I think Ms. Wilde is probably meeting someone here tonight."

Slick. Very slick. If I deny his assumption, I admit to coming here alone. Olivia waits with an anxious expression for me to deny what he's saying. As much as I would love to spend time with his daughter, that also means spending time with Professor Grant. Something I can't afford at this point.

"You're right, I am meeting someone tonight," I say, pointing to another theater.

His gaze darkens at my lie. The irritation in his expression is unmistakable, despite the calm and collective voice I hear behind me. The tick in his jaw is a dead giveaway.

"It was nice to meet you Olivia," I say. "Good night, professor."

I turn my back to him and walk away biting back the smile that threatens to break free. Two can play this game.