Chapter 9 #2
Obviously, I need to find a new bar to start frequenting, I think to myself.
The thought brings my anger simmering back to the surface.
I have just as much right to this bar as he does, though clearly I am more affected by him than he is by me.
The idea makes my heart drop like a stone as disappointment settles over me.
Matt returns with my martini and a light beer for himself, and I try to force a smile to my face, hoping that he won’t notice how unconvincing it feels.
Matt and I finished our drinks a little while ago and are still sitting and chatting, mostly about our upcoming presentation, but the conversation is nice. I enjoy not having to be worried about someone seeing us and disapproving. This is easier, better, I try to convince myself.
Sam and Derek are still chatting up the people they’re trying to swindle free drinks out of when Matt turns to me and says, “Would you like another drink?”
“Okay, but this rounds on me.” I smile and pat his arm before getting to my feet. He thanks me as I turn and make my way through the crowd to the bar. Dave grins at me as I approach. “Apple martini?”
I nod. “And a Coors Light, please.”
“You got it,” he replies before moving around the bar with lightning speed. I adjust my hat and take as deep a breath as my corset will allow while waiting for our drinks.
“A Guinness and a Cosmopolitan, please,” a deep, familiar voice says from behind me.
“Sure thing,” Dave says as he continues making my martini.
Asher leans against the counter, close enough that his arm brushes mine, and I resist the urge to yank my arm away.
“He doesn’t seem like your type.” Asher smirks.
“Oh yeah?” I fire back. “What exactly do you think my type is?” I ask as I jab a sharp elbow into his side, forcing him to take a step away from me. “Emotionally unavailable professors?”
He places a hand on his chest, feigning wounded pride.
But my anger is real. He kissed me in the elevator.
Maybe some of what I said wasn’t exactly appropriate, but he was the one who made the move.
Then he’s ignored me and avoided me ever since.
Now he thinks just because another guy is showing me attention that he’ll talk to me again?
Fucking ridiculous.
“Is she yours?” I nod toward the girl dressed as a cat that he left behind. “She seems a bit young,” I muse, hoping to hit a nerve. “But that’s not exactly out of character for you, is it?”
He bristles as the bartender sets my martini and Matt’s beer in front of me. “Summer,” he growls in warning.
I pick up the toothpick with the apple slice from my martini and slowly put it in my mouth before pulling it off. His eyes darken, and I smirk at him as he takes a step forward. I snag both drinks off the bar and give him my sweetest smile. “Happy Halloween, Professor.”
Matt gives me a peculiar look as I plop back down in my seat. “Isn’t that our Counseling Theories professor?”
“Yes,” I grumble. “There should be a staff-only bar near campus that they can go to.”
He nods absentmindedly, still staring at Asher, who has rejoined his date. “It is weird to see teachers out and about.” He takes a swig of beer and laughs. “Why come to a bar for Halloween and not wear a costume?”
I shrug. “He seems to have a huge stick up his ass. Anything fun would probably make him combust.”
“He’s the hardest grading professor I’ve had in the program,” Matt agrees.
“You think he’d let loose a bit in his free time, though.
” I curl my lip at the idea of Asher ‘letting loose’ with the girl dressed as a cat.
The look goes unnoticed by Matt as he continues.
“Good to know he’s getting some, though, maybe he’ll give everyone A’s on the midterm presentations. ”
I grit my teeth. “Maybe.”
The next half hour is spent with me barely listening to Matt, who has to repeat himself multiple times to get my attention.
I can barely draw my gaze away from Asher, who has certainly dialed up his charm for his date.
His fingers run up and down her arm in a light caress, and whenever he catches me looking, he gives me a smug smile, making my blood boil.
Matt leans closer to push a stray strand of hair behind my ear, carefully maneuvering it under my hat. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” he murmurs.
I laugh. “You have a thing for dolls stuffed with hay?”
He shakes his head, pink flushing his cheeks. “I think maybe I just have a thing for you.”
He starts to lean forward, his nose brushing mine before I place a gentle hand on his chest. “Uh,” I breathe out.
He pulls away and clears his throat. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes hastily. “I shouldn’t have—”
“No, it’s not—” I grasp desperately for the right words.
Why didn’t I want to kiss him? Why couldn’t I feel the same spark and heat I feel whenever I’m around Asher?
“I would just hate for something to affect our grade,” I say lamely.
He looks down at his lap, and I sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m doing a really bad job of explaining.
I’m really weird about dating. I need to keep my GPA up, and school is more important than anything to me right now. ”
He nods. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Summer.”
“I know… I just wanted you to know that.”
“Maybe a rain check then?”
I smile at him. “How about a date after we turn in our presentation?” I offer.
He grins back at me. “I’d like that.”
I hope that I will too. Maybe a date is a good way to start Thanksgiving break. It’ll be a small way to celebrate finishing midterms, and if it can get Asher off my mind, I’m open to trying anything at this point.
Asher is openly staring at us, irritation written all over his face. His date looks over her shoulder at the crowd to try to see who he’s looking at. His reaction makes me wish I had kissed Matt, which then fills me with guilt. I let the guilt quickly give way to annoyance.
Annoyance at how Asher thinks he can behave with no consequence. Annoyance at myself for liking him despite that. And annoyance at the fact that we had met as student and professor, and that we hadn’t simply encountered each other in this bar.
Asher says something to the woman, and she shakes her head before he pushes himself to his feet and makes his way through the festive crowd to the bar.
“Would you like another?” I ask suddenly.
Matt glances down at his beer, which is still half full, before looking back up at me. “No, that’s okay.”
I finish off my martini in one quick gulp before standing. “I just don’t want to get stuck in a line,” I explain before leaving him sitting alone as I head toward the spot at the bar where Asher is.
“What are you even supposed to be?” I scoff.
“A professor?” He gives me an amused grin—like he expected me to show up—as he unbuttons the top few buttons on his shirt and reveals a Superman T-shirt underneath.
I snort. “That is one of the laziest costumes I’ve seen.
You know Clark Kent wears glasses, right? ”
Another smug smile appears as he slowly pulls a pair of glasses from his jacket pocket and puts them on.
I feel my anger start to dissipate, which frustrates me.
I don’t like that I can’t simply stay mad at him…
or better yet, leave him alone. I had originally stomped over here with the intent of making him as angry as me.
Or to poke at his buttons some more. He wasn’t supposed to like it.
I roll my eyes, and he laughs. “I have experience with picking costumes with minimal effort.”
“Of course you do,” I sigh. “Halloween is the best holiday, and dressing up is fun.”
“I can tell you and your friends put a lot of work into yours,” he murmurs, looking me up and down. His gaze stalls on the slit in my skirt and pauses again on my chest, where the corset pushes my breasts up higher.
I feel my face flush, and I clear my throat.
His eyes snap back to mine, and he shifts his weight.
“Well,” I mutter. “I’m gonna get back,” I gesture over my shoulder to Matt, who’s been waiting patiently at our table.
At some point during the conversation, Sam and Derek came back.
Sam winks at me from across the bar. “Hopefully, this is the last time we bump into each other tonight, Professor.” I nod my head at him as I scoop up the shots and make my way back to my friends.
“Only two?” Sam asks, batting his eyelashes at me.
I glance over my shoulder to see Asher still chatting with the bartender while he gets his beer. “I’ll grab two more, just give me a few moments,” I say, plopping down on the chair. “My feet are killing me,” I lie.