To Professor, with Love (Forbidden Men #2)(15)

With a hoot of pride, I called toward my roommate. “Hear that, Ten? Even the newbie’s heard of me.”

Ten snorted. “You’re only popular because we make you look good.”

I laughed and turned back to Lowe. “That’s Asswipe, otherwise known as Oren Tenning. But most everyone calls him Ten. If you ask me, though, he’s more like a Zero. He’s a third-string receiver for the team.”

“Third string my ass. I played more than you did this season.”

True. But I didn’t admit it aloud. Ignoring him, I asked Lowe, “So how much do you know about mixing drinks?”

The rueful grin and lifting of his eyebrows told me he knew absolutely nothing. I sighed, already ready for this night to be over. “Awesome. Let’s get started learning then, shall we?”

I was giving him the lay of the land, showing him how to mix up the most basic of drinks and run the cash register when Pick slipped in right before opening, pissing me off with his usual tardiness. Personality-wise, the guy was my favorite coworker, but damn, sometimes he didn’t make it in until after we opened.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” I called, tossing him a waist apron so it hit him square in the face. “You got the floor with Ten tonight. The twins quit. This is the new guy, Mason Lowe. Now get to work.”

My abrupt little speech, getting him up to speed, only made him smile. The silver studs in his eyebrow twitched. “Damn, your bossy little mouth never fails to turn me on, Gamble.”

I snorted because Pick Ryan was more of a man-whore than Ten and I put together. I guess women totally went for the tatted-up, metal-faced, bad-boy image. But if you asked me, I’d say he was the furthest thing from a true bad boy as a guy could get.

He worked his ass off with two jobs to support himself, plus he respected women more than anyone I knew. He was always the first to jump in and kick ass if some drunk idiot was harassing a female, and he knew exactly what to say to make them happy. He just loved everything there was about the ladies, and they loved everything there was about him.

“Pick! My man!” Ten bounded forward, practically tackling the new arrival. “Thank God you didn’t quit too. Looks like we have the floor tonight, f*cker. You got your cup on?”

When he balled his hand into a fist and went to roshambo Pick in the junk, Pick slapped his hand down. “Hey, hey. That’s not a toy, princess. Some lucky lady may need to use it later on.”

Ten snorted. “Whatever, douche. You know you’re saving yourself for me.” He really mauled the other guy then, dry humping his leg.

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” His voice mild, Pick shoved Ten back by the forehead. “I’ve got a headache.”

“What the f*ck ever. You totally want me.”

As they moved off still bantering back and forth to unlock the front doors, Mason glanced my way. “You weren’t kidding about the cup thing, were you?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “No. No, I wasn’t.”

He paled. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

***

Half an hour later, we were already overcrowded with chicks slurping down their fifty-percent frou-frou drinks and horny dicks hoping to reap the benefits. I watched the new guy make a sale, smiling uneasily at a girl who handed him her phone number along with her cash payment. Once she turned her back, he tossed the slip of paper discretely into the trash.

Easing up to his side when he reached for the wrong nozzle to make a Tom Collins for the next girl who was unable to take her eyes off him, I silently corrected him, physically taking his hand to reach for the right lever. “Jesus, you’re popular tonight. I’m supposed to be the big deal around here, but every single woman who comes up to the bar passes right over me to check you out.” Must be a fresh meat thing.

With a roll of his eyes, he muttered, “Have at ’em. I’m not interested.”

I snorted. “Yeah, I could tell.”

About to inform him he could field them my way the next time some randy girl wanted to hand out her number, I caught sight of a familiar face approaching the bar. Relieved to know someone was here to see me, not Lowe, I leapt forward with a ready smile. “There’s my favorite groupie.” Reaching across the bar to catch Tianna by the back of the neck and haul her halfway across the counter for a quick but deliciously dirty kiss, I smiled appreciatively at her.

“Hey, Noel baby,” she said, distracted, immediately pulling away from me so she could crane her head and peer around me to get a look at Lowe. “Who’s the new guy?”

When her eyes glittered with straight-up lust, I gritted my teeth and seared Lowe with a lethal glance. He only smirked as if amused by my jealousy. His loose-shouldered shrug seemed to say, Hey, what do you want me to do about it?

No way was I letting go of my favorite football groupie. So I turned back to Tianna and lied through my teeth. “That’s Milo. Just got out of the pen. He’s married with three kids.”

But the lie didn’t seem to deter her in the least. She kept staring and even tossed her hair before wiggling her fingers at him in a cutesy wave before introducing herself.

Fuck. I didn’t think the guy was that good-looking, but apparently he was some kind of freaking catnip for women. The bastard.

Tianna’s stalkerish stare seemed to skeeve him out though, because he helpfully added, “Four kids. We have another one on the way.”