To Professor, with Love (Forbidden Men #2)(22)

“I don’t know, Caroline.” It was too early for this. I’d worked late last night, and I had ladies’ night to look forward to again this evening with still only four of us to man the entire bar. “How bad’s the bruise?”

“What do you mean, how bad is it?” My sister’s voice screeched through the phone. “It’s a freaking bruise...around his eye. You know that little thug gang of bullies gave it to him.”

I blew out an exhausted breath. We really needed a fifth bartender at Forbidden. Immediately. I loved the money working overtime brought, but this was going to kill me. “Yeah, probably,” I said halfheartedly, only to yawn.

“Oh, my God,” Caroline chastised. “Don’t pretend to care about us or anything. Our middle brother’s getting jumped by a gang. But poor Noel is tired so—”

“Christ!” I sat up, scowling across the training room as I cut my sister off. “I’m sorry if I’m not completely with it. I’ve been working my ass off to help support you, you know. Which reminds me, did you get the last check I sent on Monday?” Or had our mother intercepted it again and bought more drugs?

“Yeah, it arrived yesterday, but that doesn’t help—”

“What do you expect me to do? Drive twelve hours to come home to kick the little punks’ asses? I don’t even own a car.”

“I wanted you to talk to him.”

“Fine.” I rubbed my aching temples. “Put him on the phone.”

“He’s sleeping right now.”

With a sigh, I closed my eyes. “Okay, then. I’ll call later today after classes and before I head into work. Now, what about Colt? Is he still feeling better?”

His fever had persisted for a few days after his episode with strep throat. Caroline had called me in tears on Saturday, just before my scrimmage game, to wonder if he’d ever get better again, but then yesterday, she’d finally reported he’d returned to school.

“Oh, he’s fine. You can’t even tell he was ever sick. I’m not sure why I was so worried.”

I smiled fondly. “Because you’re a born worrier. You’re probably worrying as we speak about that dance you have this weekend.”

“Am not,” she argued, but I could hear the grin in her voice.

I chuckled, only to fall sober as I asked, “Mom ever come home?”

It was a question I rarely bothered to voice any longer, but my sister seemed more stressed than usual. She needed some relief. And horrible parent that our mother was, her presence had to be better than nothing.

“She dropped in for a few hours on Tuesday night. Ate half the groceries in the fridge, then took a shower, and was gone again.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sounds about right.” At least she hadn’t brought some loser in with her to harass my siblings this time.

When a sigh came through the other end of the line, I felt the urge to make Caroline smile. She didn’t smile enough anymore. I could tell by listening to the sound of her voice.

“So, you got that new dress for the dance yet?” I asked, totally not caring about dresses, but loving my sister unconditionally.

“Yeah. My friends and I went shopping after school on Tuesday.”

I nodded. “What color is it?” When a right tackle on the butterfly press a couple feet away paused to send me an odd look for asking that question, I flipped him off. He could think whatever he wanted about me. I knew talking about dresses would cheer Caroline up.

And it seemed to. “Blue,” she answered, her voice brightening noticeably. “Well, teal, technically.”

I didn’t have a clue what color teal was, but that didn’t matter. Caroline kept rambling, describing its length and type of cloth and amount of ruffles.

“Sander even came over last night so he could see it and find a corsage to match.”

My eyebrows lifted. “He came over, huh?”

“Oh, my God. Nothing happened. I swear, you are the most overprotective brother ever. Colton was here the entire time. And he followed Sander around everywhere he went.”

“Just Colt? Where was Brandt?”

“I told you, he was out getting beaten up by that freaking gang.”

“Oh, right. I forgot.” Wondering what exactly I was going to say to Brandt to help him stay out of trouble, I yawned again. Damn, I needed more sleep. My brain had gone fuzzy. Closing my eyes, I envisioned my mattress at the apartment and wondered how long it would be before I could rest my head on my pillow again, curl up under the sheets, and just—

Unbidden, an image of my English professor popped into the scene. Her hair was all plucked up in its bun and her baggie blazer was tossed crumbled to the foot of my bed. When soft, phantom hands slid up my bare chest, I jumped and snapped my eyes open.

Jesus, it’d definitely been too long since I’d gotten laid.

Still sweaty and shirtless, lifting weights in the university’s training room, I noticed Quinn Hamilton approaching, probably wanting more throwing tips. I gave an internal sigh.

“I gotta go, Care. But I’ll check in with Brandt later today, find out what’s going on with him. Okay?”

She grumbled something I didn’t catch but finally consented and told me she loved me before hanging up.

The next half hour passed with more grueling exercise, running through different plays and scenarios with Hamilton, teaching him how to be a better player than I was. God, I hoped he didn’t turn out to be better than me. All this wasn’t worth it if I ended up losing my spot on the team and not even garnering the attention of NFL scouts.