The Handbook

by H. P. Mallory

  “Pack your things,” I responded, having had enough of students who didn’t give a shit about this class. “And don’t come back until you’ve read what you were supposed to.”

  “Well, I read some of it,” he argued, something which pissed me off even more.

  “Don’t make me repeat myself,” I responded in a level voice, but my tone was icy cold.

  His eyes narrowed, but then he shrugged and, thrusting his notebook underneath his arm, he stood up and lumbered to the end of the aisle. When he reached the steps, he glanced over at Nikki and nodded at her with a big smile. He said something to her that I wasn’t able to make out, but I did notice that she dropped her eyes to her notebook in front of her as her cheeks colored. She didn’t look especially pleased. That fueled my angry fire all the more as something which felt a damned lot like jealousy started to churn my stomach.

  “And don’t take all day about it,” I muttered as I crossed my arms against my chest and regarded him angrily.

  He didn’t say anything as he walked past me, the double doors slamming shut behind him. I faced the rest of the class and found I had to fight to keep my gaze away from Nikki. Not an easy feat considering her breasts were so prominently displayed. Yes, she and I would definitely have words later.

  “Anyone else didn’t read the book, you can also join your comrade in a not so honorable discharge,” I said.

  No one made any motion to leave, although I didn’t believe for a second that all of them were up to date with their reading. They were all probably just too scared to move. I glanced down at my notes again and started the lecture, although I couldn’t say I was in any mood to discuss Virginia Woolf.

  I wasn’t sure how it was possible, but by the time I checked the clock on the wall, forty-five minutes had gone by. I quickly tied up the lesson before writing the students’ homework assignment on the dry erase board. Then I announced that class was over.

  “Can I see you please?” I said to Nikki as soon as she walked past me.

  “Sure,” she answered as she turned on her heel and faced me quizzically. I didn’t say anything until the rest of the students had left the room. This was a conversation that didn’t need witnesses.

  “What’s up?” she asked me with a smile.

  “What’s up,” I repeated, my voice coming out much more acidic than I’d planned. “Is that I don’t appreciate you coming to my class late.”

  “Oh,” she said with a quick nod. “I’m sorry about that. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

  “And,” I nearly interrupted her. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress by dressing that way,” I continued as I looked her up and down even though I hadn’t intended to. It just sort of happened, but in doing so, a new fiery blaze rampaged through me which further pissed me off. I didn’t know why, but there was something about this girl that made me lose control of myself. Usually I was a sexed-up asshole, I could admit it, but at least I could keep it in check. With Nikki, all I wanted to do was bend her over my desk and take her mercilessly.

  “I’m not trying to impress anyone,” she responded with a frown.

  I ran my hands through my longish hair as my cheeks grew hotter. “Right,” I growled at her. “Beau? Was this for him?”

  Nikki’s frown turned into a glare as her eyes narrowed on me. “No.”

  “Actually, I don’t give a shit who it’s for,” I continued, now fully irritated because I was convinced she’d dressed this way for that apish dumbass. “But it’s … distracting … to the, uh, to the other students in class,” I finished quickly.

  “How is that any business,” she started as she glanced down at herself and a rosy blush stole over her cheeks but her eyes were still angry, still fighting, as they met mine again.

  “It’s my business because it’s my class,” I interrupted her, angry that she would even think to challenge me on this subject. Who the hell did she think she was? Walking in here like she was on a catwalk and then arguing with me?

  “Last I checked, students could wear what they want.”

  “And last I checked, professors could remove students from class who are distracting other students,” I responded icily, even though I was well aware that according to Hamilton rules, she was in the right. But I didn’t care. I didn’t want her flaunting that hot as hell body for Beau Dipshit.

  “So you’re telling me you’ll kick me out?” she asked, her eyebrows raised in obvious surprise.

  “I’m telling you I don’t appreciate you coming to class, dressed like you’re planning on making money on the corner later.” I knew I shouldn’t have said it, but the words had a life of their own. Nikki’s face immediately colored with hurt and embarrassment, and I was suddenly angry with myself for my inability to control my sharp tongue. I cleared my throat. “The point is that I’d appreciate it if you’d tone it down and be on time.”

  “Understood,” she answered in a clipped and annoyed tone. Then she turned around and started for the double doors. I couldn’t help it as my gaze rested on her ass, something which enraged me all the more.

  “Don’t think you’ve got amnesty just because I tasked you with a special project and gave you a ride home the other night,” I continued, even though I knew I shouldn’t have gone there, but I just couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to take her down a peg or two, and the words just bled from my tongue as if they had a right. But I was well aware that I was making this conversation way too personal. And Nikki and I weren’t on that sort of level with each other. And we never would be, owing to the fact that I was her professor.

  “I don’t think that,” she answered, tightlipped, as she turned to face me. “And I would have been just fine walking home by myself anyway, if you recall.” She took a breath. “You’re the one who insisted on driving me!”

  Her comment irritated me to no end. “I’ll keep that in mind next time we meet in the library at zero dark thirty,” I grumbled.

  “There won’t be a next time,” she answered, her eyes blazing as she glared at me. I was surprised, I had to admit it. I hadn’t imagined she would ever talk back to me, and this candor of hers staggered me. But then I remembered the fire in her eyes when I’d first encountered her in class and she’d argued with me about Jane Eyre. She was a little spitfire, that much was for sure. And her insubordination made me only want to take her all the more.

  “Good,” I said.

  “Good,” she responded back before starting for the doors again. I could have sworn she added an intentional sway to her hips just to further piss me off. And, damn it all, but that ass!

  “I hope you’re making lots of headway with your paper,” I added to her retreating back. Because I’m going to grade you more harshly than anyone else, I thought to myself and immediately regretted it. I was completely losing my cool. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “I am,” she answered and then sauntered through the double doors, leaving me to wonder what the hell my problem was.

  ***

  Later that evening, I was still pissed off. Time away from Nikki hadn’t done anything to calm my frazzled and angry nerves, like I’d hoped it would. Walking through the door, I threw off my jacket and my shoes and immediately started for the bottle of wine I’d left on the counter. If I’d never needed a glass before, I needed one now.

  I was angry, I was exhausted, I was confused as to why I was so angry, and above all else, I was horny as shit. As I plopped myself down onto my brown leather couch, a glass of Merlot in my hand, I considered picking up the phone and dialing Rebecca. I was more than sure she’d be up for letting me slake myself within her and satisfy this burning need for sex that I had at the moment. Maybe I could take out whatever aggression I had towards Nikki and her perfect, sexy goddamned body. But the idea of opening my eyes and seeing Rebecca underneath me left me nothing but disappointed. No, I wanted Nikki. I wanted those gorgeous blue eyes focusing on me, not Rebecca’s. And there was no substitution for Nikki—certainly not Rebecca. S
o I was just going to sit here with an erection and nothing to do about it.

  One thing I was damned sure about was that whatever this fascination I had with Nikki, I needed to get the hell over it.

  TWELVE

  NIKKI

  Luckily, Dani wasn’t home. Fuming, I entered our room and slammed the door behind me as I plopped my backpack on my bed. Derek Anderson was the biggest … asshole, dickhead, penis face I’d ever had the misfortune of coming into contact with! The nerve of the man!

  I tried not to let Derek ruin my high, but it was near impossible. Even when I tried to focus on the fact that I’d actually decided not to wear sweats today, for the first time in months, it was only a lukewarm celebration. I unzipped my backpack as I cursed Derek under my breath. It was like he was gunning for me from the moment I walked into class two minutes late. Two minutes! It wasn’t like I was ten or fifteen minutes late! And what if I’d had a legitimate emergency? He hadn’t even stopped to consider why I was late. I mean, I didn’t have an emergency, and the truth was that I’d just taken longer than I intended to get ready, but so what?! Derek didn’t know that!

  I immediately noticed The Femme Fatale Handbook sitting inside my backpack, but when I started for it, an image of Derek dropped into my head like a bomb. And then I remembered his closing sentiment to me about hoping I was making headway with my paper.

  Asshole …

  I pulled the handbook out and plopped it into the top drawer of my side table as I reached for Women in Literature, A Study of the Female Character, and with a sigh, sat down at my desk. Armed with my notebook and a pen with which to take notes, I started reading.

  And then the door opened and Dani walked in. By herself, thank God. I didn’t think I could handle the gag-worthy love displays whenever she was with Craig.

  “Hi,” I huffed.

  “Who are you and what have you done with my roommate?” she answered as her jaw dropped wide, apparently at seeing the way I was dressed, or maybe she was just surprised at seeing me, period. I had been absent pretty much constantly.

  “Ha ha,” I answered with a sigh.

  “So you aren’t headed to the library tonight?” she asked as she closed the door behind her and threw a few shopping bags onto her bed. The girl had a shopping addiction and then some.

  “Nope, I decided to stay in tonight,” I answered as I motioned to the book in front of me to relay the fact that I was busy. Then I eyed her bags. “Don’t you go to class anymore?”

  She laughed. “Yes, but I conveniently scheduled all of them before three p.m. to ensure plenty of shopping time!” I just frowned as she smiled even more broadly at me. “I’m glad to see you’re home. We haven’t bonded much lately,” she said, choosing to ignore the fact that I was clearly studying. Or, maybe she just didn’t care. Probably the latter. She walked over to my bed and lay down on top of it, right beside me, folding her arms beneath her head as she beamed at me. “So talk.”

  “I’m kind of busy,” I answered as I motioned to my desk and Derek’s words about my paper continued to haunt me. Well, it was probably more honest to say that Derek’s words in general were still doing a good job of lingering in my head. I just didn’t understand why he seemed to have this vendetta against me. I had no clue what the hell I’d ever done to the bastard to warrant this kind of treatment.

  “I’m going to take it personally if you don’t,” Dani answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Okay, what do you want to talk about?” I asked as I turned my entire body to face her, wanting to relay the point that I was now giving her my full attention. My hope was that we could chat for twenty minutes or so, long enough to appease her, and then I could get back to reading this damn book.

  “First off, what possessed you not to wear sweats today?” she asked as she eyed me up and down. “It’s been so long since I saw you in sexy clothes that I forgot you owned them.”

  I shrugged and suddenly felt embarrassed over the fact that I was dressed the way I was. “I don’t know. I just felt like changing it up a little bit, I guess.”

  She nodded. “Well, I’m glad to see it. Means you’re working your way out of this slump you’ve been in for months. It’s a good sign,” she finished.

  “Okay, if you say so,” I answered, even though I had to silently agree with her. It was a good sign. I just didn’t want her to know what had prompted it—that being the notebook which was currently hidden in my drawer. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt slightly stupid that I was not only reading some random notebook on becoming a temptress, but that I was also actually giving it a try. Better to keep my guilty little secret to myself.

  “So, if you’re working your way out of your slump, why do you look like a clown with no balloons?” Dani continued.

  “A what?”

  “Why do you look like someone just stole your kitten?”

  “Why can’t you ask me a question like a normal person?”

  “Okay,” she answered with a nod. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

  “Derek Anderson is what’s wrong with me,” I grumbled in response as I shook my head and my jaw tightened as I remembered our little altercation earlier.

  “Who?” she asked as she sat up straight and eyed me narrowly, suddenly interested. Probably because a guy’s name was involved.

  “The professor who took over my Feminism in Literature class. I guess my other professor got into a pretty bad car accident.”

  “That sucks,” she answered, but I could tell her mind was elsewhere as she glanced down at the floor and started twirling her hair like she did when she was deep in thought. “Derek Anderson,” she repeated. “Hey, isn’t that the super-hot professor who bangs all of his students?”

  “I don’t know that he bangs all of his students,” I answered, now even more irritated even though I wasn’t sure why. “And I’m also not sure how super-hot he is.”

  “Hmm,” she answered, twirling her short hair even faster now. “Dark longish hair? Tall, pretty muscular and tan? Dark eyes and dresses really well? Looks like he’s in his early thirties?” Dani asked, her eyebrows reaching for the ceiling.

  “Yes,” I answered with a frown.

  “Yeah, don’t kid yourself; he’s super-hot.”

  “Okay, well, according to you anyway,” I rebutted, not wanting to give Derek the benefit of any doubt. He was a grand dickhead, as far as I was concerned.

  “So why is he raining on your parade?” Dani prodded.

  “Because he’s a total and complete asshole,” I responded with a shrug. “Not to mention, he’s also the most moody person on the planet. One second he’s driving me home from the library and the other second he’s yelling at me for being late and not wearing sweats.”

  “Um, what?” Dani asked as her eyebrows met in the center of her forehead. “What do you mean, he drove you home?”

  “I mean, he drove me home,” I answered, not really sure how else to state it.

  “Explain.”

  “I was working late at the library one night last week and he offered to drive me home,” I finished with a shrug.

  “Um,” Dani started again but I interrupted her before she could complete her thought. I knew what she was thinking.

  “He was with a very attractive girl who was all over him, Dani, so don’t get any ideas. There’s absolutely nothing going on between Derek Anderson and me,” I finished. “And there never will be because the guy’s a supreme cock.”

  “I’m just saying it’s not every day your professor offers to give you a ride,” she said as she brought her head to the side and further considered her point. “Don’t stand so, don’t stand so close to me,” she started singing that song by The Police about a teacher banging his student or something similar.

  “Really funny,” I grumbled, although I couldn’t bring myself to laugh.

  “So your professor’s a dickhead, so what?” Dani responded as she waved me away with a dismissive hand. “Aren’t all professors?”
>
  “No, not really,” I answered, suddenly thinking about how friendly Dr. Greco was. Her car accident was beginning to strike me as a bigger shame than it had earlier.

  “Well, screw Derek Anderson,” Dani announced. “And if he doesn’t like the way you dress, who gives a shit? He’s probably just pissed off that he’s not tappin’ dat ass,” she continued as she eyed my body part in question and then raised her eyebrows, looking like a cartoon character. “Besides, it’s not like he can tell you what you can and can’t wear anyway.”

  “Yeah, try telling him that. He acts like God, I swear,” I answered as I shook my head. “He read me the riot act about my outfit, like he had any right to!”

  “Well, he’s stupid because you look amazing, dawling,” Dani continued. “The change is much for the better!”

  “Thanks,” I answered, even though I couldn’t say I was convinced. I mean, it had felt good to throw my sweats to the side and dress up. And I definitely had noticed quite a few men’s heads turning as I’d walked past them. Yes, that had certainly beefed up my self-confidence. In fact, I’d been feeling and doing just great until stupid Derek Anderson had shoved a pin into my balloon and popped me back into a depression again.

  Are you really going to give him that much power? I asked myself. No, there was no way I was going to give him any power over me, because Dani was right—Derek had no say in how I decided to present myself to the world. And on that subject, my sweatpants and sweatshirt were already calling to me from where they lay at the end of my bed.

  “On that note, I’m going to go take a shower,” I announced as I pushed away from my desk, my eyes immediately landing on the book I was supposed to be reading. But, for now, I was done with anything that reminded me of Derek Anderson. Yes, I needed a break for the evening.

  I busied myself with collecting my showering items, my robe and a towel while I listened to Dani hum something. When I turned around, she appeared to be reading something. As soon as I recognized The Femme Fatale Handbook in her hands, I felt my heart drop to the floor. Immediately I lunged at her, intending to grab the notebook from her hands, but she dodged me.