CHAPTER FOUR
Two Months Later
JORDAN TIGHTENED THE knot of the purple tie he’d draped around his neck earlier that morning, and gave himself a final once-over in his black BMW Z4’s sun visor mirror. His first class of the day started in—oh…ten minutes, no big deal—and as usual, he was running late.
It was amazing, really, that for someone as bright and gifted as he apparently was, dressing himself and driving across town to be somewhere at a specific time always seemed to be a monumental effort. One at which he usually failed.
He flipped the visor up and then snatched his leather bag off the passenger seat. If he hightailed it he should be able to— Ugh, forget it, there’s no way I’m going to make it on time, he thought, and leisurely got out of the car. Yep. So why bother running and making myself sweat, not to mention mess up my hair?
It was mid-October, and the air was still heavy and humid enough that walking from his car across the lawn would guarantee an uncomfortable first period of dress slacks stuck to his ass and his shirt plastered to his back. Not something he enjoyed in front of a room full of students.
As far as he was concerned, there were only two good reasons to ever be covered in sweat, and neither of them involved as many clothes as he was currently wearing, or the students from his class—with the exception of maybe…one, the devil on his shoulder chimed in.
He was halfway across the lawn when he spotted Professor Brantley Hayes climbing out of his car, and stopped for a second to admire him. Mhmm, so fine, Jordan thought with a grin as his friend and colleague shut his car door and headed in his direction dressed in— “A vest? Are you serious? How in God’s name are you wearing a vest today, Hayes? My balls are sweating, and not in the good it adds to the friction way.”
“Eloquent as always, Jordan. Good morning.” Brantley laughed as they met up along the path leading toward their respective buildings.
“Morning,” Jordan replied, then brought his venti peppermint mocha to his lips and took a sip. Thank God for caffeine, really. How people functioned without it, he would never know.
“Second month of the semester and you’re still alive. How are you feeling, Professor Devaney?”
“Old when you call me that. I swear, every time a student raises their hand and addresses me that way, I’m one step closer to a receding hairline and wrinkles around my eyes.”
Brantley shook his head. “You’re ridiculous. You know that, right? You’re barely older than they are, and I’ll be damned if I tell you you’re good looking when it’s clear by the smug smirk on your face that you already know it.”
“Well, that’s just mean-spirited of you. My ego is very fragile,” Jordan protested. “Plus, a boy can never be told too many times how pretty he is.” He batted his lashes and Brantley shoved him in the arm.
Over the last few weeks the two of them had become really good friends. They’d gone out a few times after work to grab a drink, and ever since, they’d hit it off. They even had a regular Sunday brunch date at a tiny little hole-in-the-wall café down by the beach. It was an easy friendship. One he knew they would share for many years to come. Especially since sex wasn’t in the mix. That was now one hundred percent off the table. Not only because they worked together but also because Jordan had found out that they shared a positional preference that just wouldn’t work for him.
“I’m sure you have someone on speed dial who can feed your fragile ego, should you ever need it,” Brantley said.
“I have two, if you must know. But neither are as smart or sophisticated as yourself. So you can understand how your opinion would carry more weight.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Brantley said, but grinned as he brought his coffee cup to his lips. He took a sip and then said, “Okay. So be serious for a second. I know you’re capable.”
“’Tis true, but it’s so boring.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage for all of five minutes. I wanted to talk to you about Derek Pearson.”
At the sound of that particular student’s name, Jordan immediately sobered and came to a halt. He’d been paying a little more attention to Derek than he knew he should. At first he’d attributed it to their first encounter, but with every passing day the quiet, almost introspective nature of the guy, showed a vulnerability that had peaked Jordan’s interest. “What about him?”
“I heard something pretty disturbing going around about his father yesterday afternoon. I’m not one to pay much heed to gossip, but in a town the size of this one, it’s bound to happen.”
Jordan’s stomach tightened when Brantley wrapped his fingers around the crook of his arm and pulled him over to the side of the path out of the way of other students.
“I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. I remember you telling me about that first day and his black eye.”
Jordan fingered the lid of his coffee cup and nodded, hating where this conversation was leading.
“Okay. Well, his father got picked up a couple of nights ago for public intoxication. Apparently one of the law secretaries lives down the street from them. He was brought home in a cop car and was acting belligerent. I heard her say that Derek was the one to smooth things over with the police.” Brantley paused and then said exactly what Jordan was thinking: “I have a sneaking suspicion his eye was courtesy of his dad. So you might want to keep tabs on him.”
Damn. Jordan had had a feeling it was something like that, but having it confirmed made it so much worse than just imagining it. When he remained silent, Brantley asked, “Have there been any more incidents since that day?”
Jordan shook his head and, in a voice much more serious than he was apt to using, said, “No. He’s very quiet for the most part.”
“A bit of a loner, then?”
“Hmm, I’m not sure about loner so much,” he said. “More…private, but that’s understandable now.”
“Yes. I suppose it is.”
Jordan nodded. “I mean, except for his surfer friend. You know, the one with the blond hair.”
“Ahh yes, Daniel Finley.”
Jordan thought he detected something reverent in Brantley’s tone, and couldn’t help but taunt him a little. “Know him well?”
Brantley’s eyes widened, and Jordan couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s shock.
“No. Why would you ask that?”
“You just sounded impressed by him. That’s all.”
“Well, he’s a good student. Very bright.”
“Very easy on the eyes too,” Jordan teased. It worked, too, because Brantley almost choked on his coffee.
“I hadn’t noticed.”
Jordan placed a hand on Brantley’s arm, schooling his features to those of someone deeply concerned, and asked, “Why? Are you losing your eyesight? You’re not that old.”
“No, smartass. But I’m his professor.”
“Which means…what? That you’re dead? Or worse”—Jordan lowered his voice to a whisper—“impotent? Because they’re the only two reasons you wouldn’t notice that Daniel Finley is sun-kissed and gorgeous. Not to mention he lights up any room he walks into.”
“Oh my God. Stop talking. I need to get to class.”
“Mhmm, so do I. First class has a certain Daniel—”
“I’m leaving now,” Brantley told him as he started walking away.
“Hey? Thanks for telling me about Derek. I’ll keep an eye on him.” Like I really need an excuse.
“No problem. I figured you’d want to know.”
“Yeah, I appreciate it. Oh, by the way. You interested in hitting a club this weekend?” He’d asked Brantley a couple of times now, and each time he’d been turned down. The man was sexy and single, but from what Jordan could tell he was also a little more reserved than he was when it came to what he did in his free time.
“I think I’ll pass for now.”
“Okay. But one day before we’re old and gray…?”
“Yes, okay, one day soon.”
Jordan saluted him with his coffee cup and then jogged the rest of the way up the path and stairs to the door of his building. He pulled it open and stepped inside where he was blasted by the cool air offering some relief. Tugging at the collar of his shirt, he tried to extricate the material from his torso the best he could as he walked farther down the hall.
As he got closer to his classroom, he spotted Derek with his back up against the wall, with none other than Daniel resting against it with one shoulder angled toward his friend.
Jordan kept an eye on the two of them as he moved closer. Brantley’s words ran around in his head as he observed Derek while remaining unnoticed. Ever since that first day, Jordan had made it a point to keep his distance from Derek. He’d known something was off after their original run-in, and having it confirmed merely made him more curious about the student he’d found difficult to push aside.
He would be the first to admit that these two intrigued him more than they should, and he wasn’t quite sure why. There was something about them. Something that was niggling in the back of his mind, and as he stood there observing them, Jordan watched Daniel place his hand on Derek’s bicep before smoothing it down his arm to squeeze his fingers.
That was when he got it. When the missing piece of the puzzle finally fell into place. These two were extremely comfortable with touching one another. The same way he was with his friend—and yeah, okay, on-again-off-again fuck buddy—August.
It wasn’t in a friendly clap on the back, hey, man, it’s cool kind of way. More like an I’m here for you and always will be way. They shared an intimate connection. It was obvious if you took a second to really watch them, and this little glimpse at a private moment made it abundantly clear.
A couple, maybe? Hmm, they might be, but Jordan would almost place bets they were just friends. Friends with benefits, then? he mused, and wasn’t quite sure why he cared. But he did.
He hadn’t pegged Derek as gay. Daniel either, for that matter, and he was generally very astute when it came to men of the same feathers who liked to flock together. But then he remembered Derek’s departing comment from day one as it came slamming back into his brain.
“I just want you to know, I respect who you are, very much.”
And shit. Maybe he wasn’t too far off track in thinking Derek batted for the same team he did. And wasn’t that a shocker?
Taking in their close stance a final time, Jordan couldn’t help but note that Derek had turned his hand over and was gently squeezing Daniel’s fingers in return as he aimed a hell of a disarming smile at the laid-back surfer.
Well, slap my ass and call me Sally. It was a rare day when his actions weren’t the most shocking to take place.
He was about to announce himself, but before he could, Derek’s blue eyes drifted past his buddy’s shoulder and connected with his own.
Oh shit. Busted.
The immediate furrow between Derek’s brows and the fierce scowl that twisted his lips conveyed quite clearly that he wasn’t happy that their private little interlude was being observed.
Well…tough shit. Jordan had no reason to feel bad or even guilty. He was allowed to be there in the corridor. Hell, he was supposed to be there. He was the damn professor.
Mustering up his nerve, and he had plenty when provoked, Jordan straightened his shoulders, knowing he didn’t even come close to these guys’ heights, and sauntered down the hall.
Deciding he would stick it to Derek in the most I don’t care if you’re holding hands, kissing, or making out with your friend way he could manage, Jordan paused when he got in line with them and said cheerily, “Good morning, boys,” then pulled open the door with extra flourish and reminded them, “while usually I’d be the one on the sidelines wondering what was about to happen next here, I’m already running late, which means you are too. So don’t linger out here long. You don’t want all the seats to be taken. And I know how close you like to sit to one another.”
Their mouths fell open, and as Derek pushed off the wall as if to correct or confront him, Daniel touched his shoulder in a leave it alone gesture.
Jordan flashed them a grin then, and stepped into the classroom, letting the door fall shut behind him.
There, let him make of that whatever he will.
* * *
“WHAT THE HELL was that about?” Finn asked, laughing as the two of them stared at the door.
“Who knows,” Derek said, racking his brain to work out what the hell was going on with Devaney—but nope. He was coming up with nothing.
Ever since their first and only discussion, he’d sat in the back of the guy’s classroom, kept his head down and his mouth shut. He’d also managed to get pretty decent grades on his essays, so he had no idea what the guy’s deal was.
One thing was for sure: the man knew how to make an entrance. Christ.
“I don’t know, something about you sure pushes his buttons. Did you see how pissy he was under that posh Good morning, boys. He looked like he wanted to claw your face off.” Finn laughed again.
“Posh, that’s a good word for him,” Derek said. “Loud and in your face. And that perfectly styled hair and those clothes? They look like they cost more than my entire fucking wardrobe.”
“I know, right. But you have to admit, he looks damn good. Bet he scores big time when he hits the clubs,” Finn said, nodding as though he were onto something. “I was looking at the faculty website the other day—”
“Why?”
“I…I just was.”
“Okay,” Derek drawled, feeling as though he were missing something there, but let it go.
“And did you know he’s the second youngest professor to ever be appointed a position in the US?”
“Funnily enough, no. I didn’t know that.”
“I also Googled him because that’s pretty crazy, right. He’s a genius or some shit. Can you believe that? And his family is super rich. Like, I don’t know, Midas rich.”
“What about his dick size, was that on there too?” Derek deadpanned. But really, he was kind of curious.
“Fuck you. I just thought it was interesting, that’s all.”
“Yeah? Huh. Clearly our opinions vary on what’s interesting and what’s not. Nerd.”
“Okay. I don’t think he’s that interesting.”
“So then why are we still talking about Posh Spice?”
That made Finn just about double over with laughter. “Posh Spice. Fucking love it. Bet that’d really piss him off. Anyway, what was I talking about again?” Finn asked, then he pointed at Derek. “That’s right. Bianca’s tonight. Why don’t we go? She asked me the other day if we wanted to come to the bonfire, and I was going to say no. But I think you could do with it. Plus, I want to talk to you about something.”
Derek grumbled a little, but in the end agreed. What the hell. Maybe it would do him some good to be around kids who were hanging out with the single-minded goal of drinking themselves into a state where they could find someone passable to make out with. Who knows, maybe he’d find some guy who’d make his dick twitch and be able to forget his jacked-up life for two seconds. He could get on board with that.
A couple of nights ago his father had been ticketed for public intoxication and brought home in the back of a squad car. His older brother Alan had been passed out on the couch when the cops arrived. So who had had to deal with all the nosy neighbors standing on their balconies staring at the flashing red and blue lights at 3 a.m.? Yeah, lucky fucking me. The only saving grace was that his father had stumbled into his bedroom, passed out, and Derek had been gone by the time he’d awoken the next morning.
Pushing the disgust and pity on the neighbors’ faces from his mind, Derek followed Daniel inside their classroom and snuck a quick look toward the front of the room and the “genius” sorting through his mess of papers at his podium.
Devaney had to be the most unorganized person on the planet. Derek thought it was a miracle he managed to teach a university-level class considering the state of his teaching materials, but teach it he did.
Loved by all of his students, the professor was animated and lively with each topic he covered. But no matter how exciting he made his class, the fact remained that he made Derek cautious as hell. He couldn’t remember the last time his cock had been this fixated on someone, and he was starting to think the guy was a sorcerer weaving a spell.
Deciding the idea of a party and a hookup was exactly what he needed to maybe forget this weird infatuation, Derek leaned over to Finn and put his lips by his ear to ask, “What time’s Bianca’s thing tonight?”
Finn turned his head and grinned. “Ten. Are you going to make sure we get home in one piece or do you need to unwind?”
“Nah, I’ll walk your drunk ass home. I think the Pearson household has had enough alcohol within its walls for the week—”
“Mr. Pearson?”
As his name registered in Devaney’s familiar tone, Derek froze and saw Finn grimace, then he turned to look down at his professor. Devaney was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and an eyebrow raised in an expectant manner. He’d obviously asked a question, seen that Derek wasn’t paying attention, and singled him out—again.
Is he fucking serious?
“Yeah?”
“Do you have something to add to the conversation?”
He hadn’t been told to stand, but since it seemed that he was about to be made an example of, he got to his feet anyway. ’Cause why the hell not.
“Not really. I was just squaring up my plans for the weekend. You know, something fun, after enduring an hour of this.”
He wasn’t sure why he was being such a dick. But just as Finn had suggested that he pushed Devaney’s buttons, there was something about his professor that sure as fuck pushed his. He also provoked him into saying stuff that wasn’t true. There was no enduring happening in this class. It was actually one of the ones he enjoyed. All he knew was the irritated look his teacher was aiming at him made Derek be sure to add a healthy dose of fuck you to the end of his statement, just to ruffle the guy’s feathers.
He was so going to get booted from this class.
Mirroring his professor’s stance, Derek widened his feet and crossed his arms in a defiant show of attitude, and the way Devaney’s face reddened was a sure tell that he’d raised the guy’s blood pressure which was immensely satisfying. Not to mention a total turn-on.
It had Derek’s mind travelling directly south, and imagining Devaney naked and flushed from head to toe.
God, he was being a shit.
Certain he was about to be told to get the hell out of the class, Derek was stunned when he caught the corner of Devaney’s lips twitch. That tiny indicator that his professor was enjoying their little sparring match had his dick about two seconds away from embarrassing the hell out of him.
“I couldn’t agree with you more, Mr. Pearson,” Devaney finally said, and for a minute Derek had to remind himself he wasn’t talking about his current situation, but the fact he wanted to do something fun after this long week. “So if you don’t have anything to contribute to class, please retake your seat, keep quiet, and let me get through the next fifty minutes without your mouth interrupting me.”
No way. There was no way he’d just said that to him and meant it the way Derek was taking it. But the feisty eyes holding his practically sparkled in confirmation, and Derek knew without a doubt that Devaney had just purposely stroked his cock with his words, and in the next breath denied him.
And I’ll be damned if that doesn’t make the guy even hotter.
* * *
JORDAN COULDN’T BELIEVE what he’d just done. Okay, so he could believe it a little bit. He’d just eye-fucked one of his students and, if he were honest, enjoyed every second of it.
The truth was, Derek was just the kind of guy he was drawn to. Someone who was off-limits. Someone who was troubled. He was a bad boy at heart, and knowing his background a little better, Jordan could understand why he was the way he was.
But there was also something fragile about Derek and the way he kept to himself, and it was that quality that saved him from being a total punk.
It also made him extremely appealing and was the reason for Jordan’s racing pulse.
It was a totally inappropriate reaction, one he knew he would never in a million years pursue. But there was no way to deny the attraction was there, bubbling between the two of them like lava in a volcano waiting to explode.
Shit. I really need to get laid.
As he was finishing up, Jordan decided he’d go ahead and give August a call. The guy had left a message earlier in the week that he was in town to catch some prime waves—his words, not mine—so Jordan figured he should take advantage of a sure thing.
It’d been way too long since he’d gone dancing, and there was no way he was going to miss out on getting his groove on. The excuse to dress up and flaunt his stuff was too heady a feeling, especially when he wanted to let loose. So he supposed he really hadn’t been telling a lie when he told Derek he wanted the day to be over.
Checking the clock on the wall, he saw there were only five minutes until class was done and clapped his hands together before rubbing them with glee. “Okay, guys, that’s it for the week. Remember, you have a quiz Monday. Don’t be late or I’m locking the door, and for those with plans,” he said, and looked directly at Derek, who, he was surprised to find, was watching him with matching focus, “play safe.” He broke the potent eye contact and smiled widely. “Have a good weekend, everyone.”
As the students vacated the room one after another, he gathered the papers littering his lectern and the small table beside it. He bundled them and was tapping them on the table to straighten the pile when he heard someone approach behind him. With the papers in order, he turned around to see Derek standing beside the podium with his icy blue eyes narrowed, and his mouth drawn in its usual grim expression.
Jordan let his eyes do a quick sweep of the room, and when he realized they were the only two in there, he made sure to keep his attention focused on the face of the student in front of him.
“Can I help you, Derek?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Derek said, and then paused before he asked, “Did I do something to piss you off?”
Taken off guard by Derek’s language, Jordan squared his shoulders for the verbal sparring match to come. Not that he was worried. He had no delusions that should he want to take this guy, he could, and would, win every time.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” he finally replied.
Derek scoffed and took a presumptuous step forward, and Jordan ordered himself to stay put. There was no way he was about to back down just because Derek was several inches taller than himself, and exuded a pent-up energy that was practically making the room vibrate.
It was time the guy had a little discipline in his life. It was obvious now that he rebelled due to whatever was going on with his family, but one thing Jordan would not stand for in his classroom and everyday life was disrespect. No matter who you were or why you thought it was acceptable.
This close, Derek was—Oh hell, there’s no use trying to deny it. The guy is muy caliente. Dressed in green cargo shorts and his standard black T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest like a second skin, the words printed at the center of it made Jordan want to smile: Normal people scare me.
Well, then Derek should feel right at home with him, because no one had ever accused Jordan of being normal. It was time, however, that Derek was taught a lesson about what Jordan was and wasn’t willing to let slide.
“If you’re referring to my calling on you—”
“I am,” Derek said, and Jordan prayed for patience. “Why do you always do that?”
Jordan placed the papers on the podium behind him and then turned back to aim a pointed look up at Derek. “I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
He thought about that for a second and made sure that Derek wasn’t right, and when he was satisfied he wasn’t actually singling him out, Jordan shook his head and pointed a finger up at him. “No, I don’t. In fact, I haven’t called on you until today, and that was only because you were being rude and talking through my class. If you don’t wish to be singled out, Derek, then show some respect.”
As his words lingered between them, Jordan’s entire demeanor dared Derek to defy him. He couldn’t believe how close they were standing. His finger was practically poking that huge chest in front of him, and Jordan could see it rising and falling with every annoyed breath Derek took.
“I already told you,” Derek said, his voice so soft and controlled that Jordan was lucky he was so close or he wouldn’t have heard him. “I respect you.”
Jordan could hear ringing in his ears as his heart thumped out an insistent tattoo.
One, two, three. Move. One, two, three. Move. Move. Back. Now.
Yeah… But he didn’t.
Instead, his eyes ran up the square line of Derek’s jaw, and Jordan moistened his bottom lip with his tongue. He wanted to bite and suck his way up to Derek’s ear and tell him—Focus, Devaney. Focus.
“Then show it. When I speak, listen to me. It’s really not that hard.”
Derek’s eyes dropped to his lips, and Jordan knew he was perilously close to crossing a line. One that was highly inappropriate.
“You’re wrong,” Derek told him. Then he shrugged his bag up his arm. “It’s extremely hard every time you speak. And just so we’re clear, I’m not referring to my attention span.”
Oh no he didn’t, Jordan thought, shocked right down to his leather shoes. He knew exactly what Derek was referring to, and, never one to act coy, he ran his eyes down Derek’s body and finally back up to his face. If he’d been anybody else— But he’s not.
“Listen to me very closely, Derek. While you are in my class, this is not going to ever happen.”
When Derek’s eyes darkened, and the side of his surly mouth tugged into a smirk, Jordan realized exactly what he’d said, and went to correct himself. But it was too late.
“I can live with that. At the rate I’m going, you’ll kick me out anyways.”
Jordan couldn’t help himself then. He chuckled at Derek’s insolence and shook his head. “And that’s now a goal of yours?”
“To fuck you or to get kicked out? The way I see it, they kinda go hand in hand now, don’t they.”
While Jordan was aware Derek was going for the shock factor, there was no way he could let that go without some kind of recourse.
“Seeing as you are here on a scholarship, Mr. Pearson, I hardly think it’s wise to aim to be thrown out of class for whatever inane reasoning you think you have.” Jordan paused after his scholastically inclined speech, but just as it always did, his lack of filter, subtlety, and patience prodded him to add, “And just so we’re clear, no one fucks me.”
As that little tidbit of information escaped Jordan’s lips, Derek’s eyes blazed with an emotion that went far beyond challenge and headed straight into a territory that was rife with minefields—curiosity.
He then gave a clipped nod of his head, spun on the heels of his flip-flops, and marched toward the door.
Shit. Why does he always make me act this way? Jordan thought, but he didn’t take his eyes off the intense man as he silently departed the room.