To Professor, with Love (Forbidden Men #2)(8)

I had to pinch my leg to keep myself from rolling my eyes. But seriously? One guy—who wrote really sucky essays—was the key to everything? Drama much, old man?

Overdramatic speech or not, my poor little ears rang with shock. I had realized from the very day I’d come here that sports on campus trumped everything else, but to hear the English department Dean speak so candidly about it disappointed me. What about an honest grade? Integrity? Education?

I silently counted to ten before speaking. “So, you’re telling me to pass him no matter how badly he’s truly failing?”

“Of course not.” With an irritated huff, the dean frowned and pinched his flabby lips together. They looked like two pink pancakes, one stacked on top of the other. “But I’m certain there’s something you can do to make him not fail. You’re a teacher. For God’s sake, teach the boy.”

Oh, no, he did not. No one questioned my teaching abilities. “I am! Dr. Frenetti, I—”

“Well, obviously you’re not doing it well enough if he isn’t picking up the curriculum. Yours is the only class he’s failing. Why is that?”

Probably because every other lemming professor on campus was passing him, no matter how awful he was actually doing. Maybe they’d already received the same lecture I was currently getting.

“I...” I shook my head, and my face heated to a scorching degree.

How dare he? How dare he make this my fault? I couldn’t even defend myself. Being the newest faculty member on campus, I couldn’t exactly go complaining to anyone about him, either, without risking my job. Besides, who the hell would I know to complain to that didn’t share his skewed opinions?

God, I hated that I could never defend myself against anyone.

“Aspen, I’m concerned about you.”

I wanted to slap him. The jerk wasn’t concerned about me. And I didn’t appreciate his phony tactic to get through to me. Questioning my abilities as a teacher had pissed me off enough.

Folding his hands together, he leaned forward. “I don’t want anyone to hold anything against you if it’s your fault Gamble loses his scholarship and has to drop out. After a few years here, when you try to get tenured—which is something I know you want since you’ve already mentioned it to me—you’ll need the other faculty members to go to bat for you. They won’t if you single-handedly ruin our first real chance in twenty years to win a divisional football championship.”

Ice ran through my veins. And here came the threatening tactics. Wow, he wasn’t going to pull a single punch, was he?

Rubbing my forehead, I nodded my humble compliance. “I understand.”

“Good. I hoped you would. Now I’d like you to—”

A knock on the door interrupted us.

Great. I wondered who it could be now. My guess was the Grim Reaper coming to take my damn soul away. When I glanced toward the doorway, though, I wished it had been the Grim Reaper, because he could’ve at least put me out of my misery.

Noel Gamble’s presence only added to it.

“Well.” Managing to look surprised, Frenetti popped to his feet and grinned engagingly at the new arrival. “Hey there, Noel. What a pleasant surprise.”

I rolled my eyes and then flushed when Noel glanced my way and caught my immature response to Frenetti’s brown-noser greeting.

“I really enjoyed that last showdown against South Central,” Frenetti was telling him. “The pass you threw at the end and won the game was amazing. I swear you were going to get sacked.”

Noel gazed at the older man a second. Then he flashed a quick glance my way before turning back to the dean. “Well...I did get sacked as soon as the ball left my hand.”

“But you still got it into the end zone and into your receiver’s hands. That’s all that mattered. And what was that, anyway. A thirty-yard pass?”

“Forty-two yards.”

Frenetti whistled. “Quite an arm you have there, son.”

Noel nodded respectfully. “Thank you, sir.” He glanced at me again. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, no.” Frenetti—the ass—answered for me. “Come on in. I’m sure you and Dr. Kavanagh have plenty to discuss. So I’ll leave you to it.”

Wait? What? We did?

The dean sent me a speaking glance before shutting me inside my office...alone...with Noel Gamble. The walls instantly closed in around us and my chest followed suit, squeezing in around my lungs until I was sure I’d asphyxiate any second. I could almost feel phantom hands holding me down and covering my mouth as a strong body pinned me to the backseat of his car.

“Who was that guy?” Noel asked, turning away from the closed door to send me a perplexed glance.

He in no way acted as if he was about to attack, so I forced oxygen through my clenched teeth, calming my racing nerves. Then I narrowed my eyes, wondering if he really had no idea who Frenetti was or if he was trying to play me. Finally, I shrugged, figuring it didn’t matter if he was acting out a role or if he was honestly here under his own steam. Either way, I was going to have to “work with him” as Frenetti had put it.

“That was Dr. Frenetti,” I said. “He’s the dean of the English department.” When Noel only blinked, his expression blank of understanding, I sighed impatiently. “He’s my boss.”