To Professor, with Love (Forbidden Men #2)(102)

“Sure,” I muttered. “Let me clean up first.”

***

“So what’s up with you and Professor Girlfriend? I’m guessing you guys split since we’ve all had to rearrange our schedules for you and now I’m stuck on suicide watch.”

I glared over at Pick from the passenger seat of his car, some souped-up classic he had no-doubt fine-tuned to perfection. “You’re not on—look, I’m not going to do anything to myself. I’m fine. But yes, we’re...” The word caught in my throat and I had to rasp, “…over. It’s been a week, but I’m past it.”

Okay, I wasn’t past it at all. But I no longer felt the urge to get drunk and crash her class anymore. That was, if she still had a class to crash.

Shit. The guilt slammed into on me all over again. She was gone, and it was my fault. I wiped a hand over my face, surprised to find my fingers shaking.

“Then why are Larry and Curly still worried about you?”

“Because they’re pussies?” I guessed with a disgusted sigh. “How the hell should I know?”

“Well, what happened?”

Drumming my fingers against my knee, I turned to gaze out the side window.

“Might as well tell me,” Pick cajoled. “I’m going to bug the piss out of you until you do.”

I sighed and glanced at him. “Some anonymous person sent a picture of us together to my coach, and she got axed.”

“Well, f*ck,” Pick breathed out quietly. “Why didn’t you get into trouble, too? Or did you?”

My jaw hardened. “The picture only revealed her face. Mine was cropped off.”

“Wait. Then how did they even know it was a student she was banging? If they couldn’t see you, she could’ve been f*cking anyone.”

Grinding my teeth, I pushed up my sleeve to show him my tattoo. “Back in October, about a dozen of us got these the night before our big national championship game. It was the only clear thing you could see of me in the shot.”

Pick glanced at the tat, read it carefully, and snorted out a laugh. “National champs? Didn’t you guys lose that game?”

“And didn’t I say we got them the night before?” I muttered, pushing my sleeve back down to cover the humiliating mistake, a mistake that had ended up costing Aspen her job.

“So, the girl got stuck with all the heat, and you just...let her take the fall...by herself?” Pick shook his head, disappointed oozing off him in waves.

“No,” I growled. Fisting my hand, I slammed it down on his dashboard. “I did not just let her take the fall. By the time I’d found out what had happened, she was already gone. Ten and Hamilton managed to talk me out of confessing to Coach. But that’s what I should’ve done. Damn it. Instead, I went to Aspen’s boss and tried to talk him into bringing her back. Big f*cking mistake. Let me tell you. Coach would’ve just kicked my ass off the team and pulled my scholarship.”

“But not this prick,” Pick guessed.

I shook my head. “Nope, not this prick. When he learned I was the guy in the picture, not only did he refuse to reinstate her, but he refused to reprimand me. He’s a big football fan, you see. So I threatened to leave school and drop out of the team if he didn’t bring her back, to which he in turn threatened to go public if I even acted like I was going to leave. So, now she’s gone, and I’m stuck here in order to save her reputation and make sure she doesn’t lose all chance of getting a job anywhere else in the country. But in the meantime, yeah, I look like a complete bastard for letting her take all the heat for our relationship.”

“Man.” Pick shook his head and blew out a low whistle. “That’s harsh. Sucks to be you right now.”

“Yep,” I muttered, turning my face away to look out the passenger side window again.

“And you haven’t heard from her at all since that went down?”

Emotion overwhelmed me. I wanted to hit something again. Or break down like a * and cry. “No. I’m pretty sure she left town. She won’t answer her door, and her mail has been piling up.”

“You don’t think she would hurt herself, do you?”

White hot panic roared through me. I glanced slowly at Pick, giving him the death glare. “Well, I hadn’t...until now. Jesus, she wouldn’t—wait. No. Her car’s gone too. If she was in the house, her car would still be there. She’s okay.” She had to be okay.

“Unless—”

“Jesus, Pick,” I snapped. “Stop freaking me out. She’s okay. She just needs some time.”

“Well, if you ever need to get into her place, just to check and make sure, I know how to jimmy a lock.”

I shook my head. “God, man. Where’d you learn a handy trick like that? The state pen?”

“I never went to the pen, ass wipe. It was county lockup for, like, two weeks. And, no, I didn’t learn how to break and enter in jail. You meet all kinds of interesting kids when you grow up in the foster care system.”

I knew he’d done some time because he’d mentioned having to meet with his parole officer before. But... “I didn’t know you grew up in foster care.”

“Yep. From birth until I graduated out of it at eighteen.”

With a shiver, I wondered what would’ve happened to me if my mother had been any more of a crappy parent then she’d been. I could’ve grown up in the same kind of life as Pick had. Hell, my little brothers, and maybe even Caroline, still might fall into that fate if I didn’t watch myself.