Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ADONIS
Atticus
We’re all going out tonight. No exceptions.
That includes you, Donnie.
Adonis
I already have plans.
Eros
Wait … plans? What kind of plans? You always say you have to work.
Adonis
Plans. Work. It’s all the same.
Atticus
Cancel them. We haven’t seen you in weeks.
Demetrius
I’m game. Where are we going?
Eros
Triple Bs. I’m working the late shift.
Adonis
I can’t just cancel. I have responsibilities and a schedule that’s been in place for weeks.
Atticus
I don’t care. We’re your family.
G rumbling, I read over the messages from my brothers again as I head down the hallway toward my office. Atticus is right, it’s been weeks since I’ve seen my family. I haven’t been to our weekly dinners at Persephone’s house in so long I’ve lost count of the weeks. If I asked my sister, she’d rattle off that number in a matter of seconds.
Between work and Clover, I haven’t had time or bothered to make the time. I’m being selfish.
If I make time for my family, then that means I have to sacrifice something else. I can’t sacrifice my job, and I don’t want to sacrifice my time with Clover. We get so little of it as it is.
I dig my keys out of my pocket to unlock my door when I catch Clover heading toward me out of the corner of my eye. When I look up, she’s smiling. But something about it looks off.
“Are you okay?” I furrow my brows and study her face. She looks worried behind that smile.
She nods quickly. “Just tired. I stayed up too late grading papers.”
She hands me the thick folder containing the essays from my recent class assignment.
“There wasn’t a rush on these.” I take the folder and flip through. “You could have taken another week, and it would have been fine.”
She shrugs. “I know, but I couldn’t sleep. I needed the distraction.”
I study her face again. The dark circles under her eyes look more pronounced and the usual spark in her eye is gone. “I’m worried about you. Are you sure you’re okay?”
She starts to lift her hand to rest it on my arm, but quickly jerks it back. “I promise. This sometimes happens when I get sucked into research. Occupational hazard.”
I nod because I know that problem well. It’s not uncommon for me to suffer from bouts of insomnia when I start a new research project. My mind gets so overwhelmed with ideas and I can’t stop thinking about how to pull them all together.
“As long as you’re sure,” I say.
She nods and wrinkles her nose. It’s adorable and drags a small smile out of me. She leans closer to me and lowers her voice. “Would you be terribly upset if I canceled on you tonight? I’m just so tired.”
“Not at all,” I say, somewhat relieved that I no longer have to disappoint someone in my life. “In fact, my brothers are hounding me to go out with them. I’ve bailed on them for weeks.”
“Then you should definitely go out with them. Don’t ever let me get between you and your family.”
This time, I lean down and lower my voice to a low rumble. “But you’re so much more fun than them. I can’t enjoy under the table adventures when they’re around.”
Her cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink. Probably because she’s thinking of the last time we went out and she discreetly slipped under the table and sucked me off during dinner. I later returned the favor in the side alley outside the same restaurant.
“Donnie!” I cringe at the sound of Lulu’s voice behind me. “I haven’t seen you around in ages. Where have you been hiding?”
She slides up next to me and wraps her arm around mine before I realize what she’s doing. I quickly jerk it away. “Not hiding. Just working.”
Undeterred by my irritated response, she runs her hand down my arm. “Always the workaholic.” Then she looks at Clover and grins. “Sweetheart don’t get your hopes up. All he cares about is work.”
Clover furrows her brows in confusion. “As he should at this stage of his career. How else would he get tenure?”
“Aww, how cute.” Lulu leans closer to me and lowers her voice. “I think this one likes you.”
“She’s my student.” I insist. Maybe a little too forcefully. “This is Clover. Have you two met?”
“We’ve met,” they say at the same time. Lulu sounds pleased with herself while Clover sounds disgusted.
Lulu nibbles on her bottom lip and smiles up at me. “Working together never stopped you from dating me.”
I lower my head and pinch the bridge of my nose before I look at Clover. Her gaze is still fixed on Lulu. “Lulu and I went to grad school together. And … Well, we dated for a short bit.”
“Oh Donnie, why do you always underplay the significance of our relationship?” Lulu leans forward and rests her hand on Clover’s arm like they’re old friends. “We lived together.”
“Until you cheated,” I grumble.
Lulu chuckles. “Are you ever going to let that go?”
“No.”
“Aren’t you dating Dr. Dixon?” Clover asks. When I look over at her, she’s glaring at Lulu like she’d like to claw her eyes out. I have to fight back the smile it evokes in me. I like seeing Clover jealous.
Lulu frowns. “No. Wherever did you get that idea?”
“Oh, wait. Or is it Dr. Jones? Or that post-doc from the geology department? What’s his name? Henry or Harry? I’ve heard so many different stories about Lulu and her conquests that I can’t keep them straight.”
Lulu glares up at me. “Donnie, you should teach your students some manners. Accusations like this are very unprofessional.”
“Oh, I think you’ve got that covered all by yourself. It doesn’t matter what anyone else says or does.” Clover smiles and crosses her arms over her chest. “You are the very definition of unprofessional.”
Lulu huffs and spins on her heel and stomps back to whatever hell she escaped from. When I look back at Clover, she’s giving me a curious look.
“You really dated her?” she asks.
“It was a momentary lapse of judgment.” I unlock my office door and push it open. “We all make mistakes.”
Her expression softens to something resembling understanding. “Yeah, I suppose we do.”
There’s something about the way she agrees with me that tells me she knows this firsthand. She’s saying that because she’s made her own mistakes equal to mine with Lulu.
And I can’t help but wonder if that’s why she left Harvard.
This is not my idea of a good time.
Triple Bs is a fine bar, I suppose, but it’s a little flashy for me and away too loud. The men are mostly in suits and the woman are dressed like this is a fashion show, not a place to relax and get a few drinks.
The music booming through the speakers causes my chest to vibrate and the bartenders hurt my ears. If I thought the women were a show, the process of making drinks in this place is worse. They do that thing where they toss the bottles into the air and twirl around. How they manage to get the liquor into the glasses and not all over their bodies is a mystery to me.
Flare bartending is the most useless skill I’ve ever observed. I don’t want someone to dance with the ingredients before dumping them into a glass. Even my simple whiskey on the rocks requires a flying bottle first.
Just pour me a damn drink already.
It feels like an eternity passes before Atticus slides into the seat next to me and hands me my whiskey.
“It’s about time,” I grumble.
Atticus chuckles like I said something funny. My frown deepens.
“Lighten up, bro.” Atticus squeezes my shoulder. “At least try to enjoy yourself.”
“What’s there to enjoy?” I take a sip and sit back in my seat, relaxing for the first time since I walked through those doors.
“Oh, I don’t.” Atticus glances around the bar and waves his arm out to the crowd. “Maybe pick a girl and have some fun for a night.”
I furrow my brows. “How would that be fun?”
Atticus raises a brow. “Need I explain it to you?”
I grumble obscenities under my breath and toss back my drink. I’m gonna need a few of these if I want to survive this night. Thankfully, the server walks past our table at this exact moment.
“Two whiskeys on the rocks,” I say. Then I point to my brother. “Put it on his tab.”
After taking Atticus’s name, she scurries toward the bar. Thank fuck he didn’t object.
“Are the women in this place that repulsive to you?” he asks.
I don’t get a chance to answer him before someone does it for me. “He’s already got a girl.”
I look up to find Sydney and Dylan standing at our table.
“Fuck,” I mumble.
“She’s very pretty.” Sydney continues. “And very young.”
“Wait, what?” Atticus stares at me in disbelief. “You’re dating?”
“I’m not dating.” I say a little too loudly. “It was a work meeting.”
“You two were awfully cozy for a work meeting,” Dylan says as he slides into the seat next to me. “I don’t hold hands with my colleagues. Is that some kind of new team building exercise I don’t know about?”
He smiles and the teasing nature of his tone only irritates me more. I knew running into them at the restaurant would come back and bite me in the ass.
“We weren’t holding hands.” I insist.
“Really?” Sydney raises a brow. “It sure looked like it to us.”
“I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t hand holding. She’s my student, for crying out loud.”
Atticus chokes on his drink and pounds his hand on his chest.
“Excuse me?” He looks at me with wide eyes. “You’re fucking one of your students?”
“No,” I say, but it doesn’t sound convincing even to me. “It was just dinner.”
“A dinner date?” Atticus asks for clarification.
“Not a date!” I yell, and then glance around for our server. I wish she’d hurry the fuck up with my drinks. I need them. Desperately.
“What’s not a date?” Demetrius asks as he falls into the only remaining empty chair at our table. His drink sloshes in his hand and he spills some of it on his leg. “Shit.” He wipes at it like that will somehow make it go away.
“Are you drunk?” Dylan asks. His playful tone is gone and replaced with anger. “You’re on call mother fucker.”
“I’m not drunk. Just …” he waves his glass in the air with a smile, “feelin’ good, my friend.”
“Well, feelin’ good is not acceptable when you’re on call. You know better, man. What if there’s a fire?”
Demetrius scoffs and waves off his friend. “It’s fine. I said I’m not drunk.”
Dylan reaches across the table and snatches Demetrius’s drink from his hand. “You are too. If you get called in tonight, you’ll lose your job. You just got promoted to captain, dumbass. You’re in line to become the next chief. Why would you be so stupid?”
“I’m never going to be chief. Sampson would have to retire for that to happen, and you and I both know he’s never gonna fucking retire.”
“He doesn’t sound drunk,” I say, hoping to relieve some of the tension building at our table. I’m in a shitty enough mood as it is. I don’t need my brother’s bullshit bringing me down more.
Dylan glares at me. “Really Donnie? I don’t think you should talk, Dr. Fucking His Students.”
“I’m not fucking my student,” I growl.
“Donnie is fucking his students?” Demetrius laughs. “Well, fuck man. I’m impressed. Didn’t think you had something like that in you.”
“Thou who protests too much.” Atticus raises his drink and tosses it back.
“Here! Here!” everyone else says in unison, as if they planned the whole damn thing.
I grumble, drop my head to the table, and bang it a few times. I am so fucked. It doesn’t matter what I say, they’re not going to believe me. I’ve always been a shit liar.
“You know.” Demetrius leans forward on the table and points at me. “If you like them young, there are a couple of girls sitting at the bar looking for a good time. I bet they’d both let you fuck them if you’re willing to play the professor-student angle. Show them your grumpy side. Maybe inflict a little corporal punishment, if you know what I mean.”
He winks at me with a shitty grin on his face.
“Give me a fucking break,” I say. “You’re the last person I’d ever let set me up with a woman.”
“Hey!” He has the nerve to look offended.
“Dude, you probably already fucked them,” Atticus says for me. “No one wants your hand-me-downs.”
“You are all assholes.” Sydney points her finger at each of us with narrow eyes. “I can’t believe I call you guys friends.”
“What did I do?” I ask, more than offended by her insinuation. My brothers, on the other hand, laugh.
“You’re sleeping with your student, remember?” She smiles.
I shake my head. “I should’ve fucking stayed home.”
Before anyone else can jump in on this topic, Demetrius’s phone buzzes. He pulls it out of his pocket and groans. “Well, fuck.”
“Let me guess.” Dylan glares at him.
“Don’t lecture me.” Demetrius glares back at his friend and coworker like Dylan has no reason to be pissed.
“Someone needs to lecture you,” Dylan pushes to his feet. “Someone also needs to kick your ass. Maybe then you’d act like the responsible adult you’re supposed to be.”
“I am a responsible adult.” Demetrius insists.
Dylan scoffs. “A responsible adult would not be drinking when he’s on-call to fight fires, asshole.”
“I can do it.” Demetrius pushes to his feet and puffs his chest out. “I’ve got this.”
“No, you don’t” Dylan pushes him back down in his chair with ease. There’s no denying it. Demetrius is one too many drinks past buzzed. “I’ll cover you.”
Demetrius shakes his head and tries to stand, but stumbles when his foot gets hooked on the chair. He’s unable to catch himself and falls off his seat like the drunk person he is.
“I don’t need your help,” he says, despite the fumbling mess he’s becoming.
“Yes, you do.” Dylan holds out his hand and helps Demetrius to his feet. “I’ll cover for you, but this is the last time. Do you understand?”
Demetrius nods but doesn’t look Dylan in the eyes.
“Man, look at me.” Dylan waits until Demetrius meets his stare. “I mean it. This is it.”
“I got it,” Demetrius growls. “Now stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” Dylan asks.
“Like I’m a fuckup.” Demetrius drops his head and has the decency to look remorseful. Something is going on with him, and it’s about time we all find out what.
Dylan shakes his head and looks at his wife. “Sorry, babe, I’ve gotta cut our night short.”
Sydney cups his cheeks and gives him a kiss. “It’s okay. I’ll take it out on Dem. It’s his fault anyway.”
“Hey, don’t—”
Dylan holds his hand up and stops Demetrius from finishing whatever excuse he was about to give. “One of these days, you’re going to really fuck up and someone is going to get hurt.”