Bad Professor (An Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance)

by Claire Adams

  "You understand that now is not the time, right?" I asked. I blinked back my tears hard. I stood flat against the wall as if it was the only thing holding me up. I was not strong enough to elude Owen and get away from Trent.

  "Please, honey, just let me be your friend," Trent said. He peeled my hands off the wall and kissed my knuckles. "What do you want me to do? Beat the shit out of him? Get you out of here? What?"

  "Yes, please, just get me out of here. Without him seeing."

  "Without him seeing what?" Owen asked. He had appeared in the doorway while Trent was tugging on my hands.

  My throat closed up. Owen scowled at our joined hands.

  "You didn't want me to see you with your ex-boyfriend?" he asked. His eyes were more glazed than before.

  It was more than I could take. I shoved Owen hard in the chest and marched out the apartment door. I knew both he and Trent were chasing me down the hallway, but I refused to run.

  Owen caught me at the top of the stairs. "You're with Trent?"

  "No. But I am the one that caught you kissing Anya in your bedroom or did you somehow forget about that?" I asked.

  "That wasn't what it looked like."

  "Oh, you alone on your bed kissing another girl doesn't look suspicious, but me talking to Trent in a room full of people is something to get angry about?" My voice was too loud, but I did not care.

  "Owen, are you okay?" Anya appeared in the door of his apartment.

  "You've got to be kidding me," I said. I crossed my arms and waited to see how Owen would act.

  "I'm fine, everything's fine," Owen said.

  "Yeah, sure, everything's fine," I said. "Oh, by the way, Jasper is paying one of your neighbors to rat on you to the police. He's a drug dealer and is planning to blame you so he can make a clean getaway and set up in some other town."

  "Quinn, it sounds like maybe you've had a little too much to drink," Anya said. She came down the hallway and took Owen's arm.

  I felt my heart tumble down the stairs when he did not pull away from her. "Owen, I'm serious. Let's just get out of here. Let's go to the trailhead and cool off for a while."

  "And get a DUI?" Anya asked. "Seriously, Quinn, are you looking out for him or trying to get him in more trouble?"

  "She's right," Owen said. "I drank too much and I should just stay here."

  I had nothing else to say. I tried to look in Owen's eyes, but he looked tired and drunk. Anya tugged on his arm, and he started to turn around and follow her back to his apartment. I wanted to grab him, to shake him, to make him see that I was not the one acting crazy, but I couldn't. It hurt too much.

  I was tired of chasing after everyone else's problems. When I looked around, I saw Anya pining after a man that did not really want her. Owen was being set-up by someone close to him. Trent was wanting to fix a mistake he could not take back. None of those problems were mine.

  I could just walk away.

  So I did.

  I walked across the front lawn and wondered how long ago I should have done it. My whole life I was always tied up with Sienna's problems or plans. Or I was helping my mother cope with hers. Or I was trying to please my father. Or I was loving someone I did not think would ever love me back.

  I should have just walked away.

  The thought was freeing. I felt like walking out into the desert. There, at least, the cold and desolation would make sense. Freedom was supposed to be exhilarating.

  Then I heard footsteps crashing down the sidewalk behind me and my heart started to beat again. I did not want to ignore other people's problems, I wanted to help, but first I needed someone to need me.

  "Quinn, wait, let me drive you home," Trent said. He caught up to me and gave a sad smile when he saw my face. "Yeah, I know. You wish it was him chasing you. I wished you would have chased me to Vegas that night."

  "The night you embarrassed everyone and tried to flaunt your 'boy toy' in my face?" I asked.

  "I was trying to make you jealous, I guess. It was awful. I know," he said. "If it makes you feel any better, Owen's a wreck."

  "How is that supposed to make me feel any better? Here I'm trying to help and nothing helps," I said.

  "Quinn, sweetie, it’s not up to you to save everyone," Trent said.

  Sienna flashed through my mind so sharp that I bent over as if her memory cut me. The tears started, ones that should have been shed long ago, and I could not stop. Trent helped me into his car, got in, and locked the doors.

  "What are you crying about?" he asked. "It’s about her, isn't it?"

  "She was mean," I said. "No one ever believed it, but she could be really mean. Still, I loved her. I only wanted her to be happy. I spent my entire life trying to keep her happy. Owen understands that. Maybe that's all we had. Maybe it was all wrong."

  "I don't think any of that," he waved up to the still-crowded apartment, "has anything to do with your sister. I think that is a man who has loved you for a long time and let himself get scared."

  "How would you know that?"

  "Let me see, you two got close, like really intimate close and it felt really good. Then, a bunch of his friends came around and he felt good enough to cut loose. Then, he drank too much and freaked himself out. The more he drank, the more he felt for you and the more he drank because it was a scary feeling. Then, he did something he never intended to do and it screwed everything up," Trent said.

  "Yeah, maybe. That might be right," I conceded. "It seems like something that might happen. I just wish it wouldn't keep happening to me."

  Trent kissed my cheek. "How about I make you a deal? I'll drive you home and then I'll go back to the party and nut-punch Owen if he tries to do anything stupid again."

  I laughed. "What's my end of this honorable bargain?"

  "Just let me try to be your friend?"

  "I'll try, but I might have to see it to believe it," I said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Quinn

  I got home and found a note from my father. They had gone out to their favorite pasta bar for dinner. He promised to bring me home shrimp linguini – Sienna's favorite. The silly mistake broke free another sob from my chest.

  The tears blinded me as I went upstairs. I ended up in Sienna's room, in the armchair where I had sat so many times and watched her get ready. My parents had shut the door on her room when she left for college. It was a shrine just waiting in case she ever came home. My room was almost the same except for the addition of my mother's treadmill and two old dressers she had bought with the idea of renovating them into shabby chic masterpieces.

  "I miss you," I said to her perfect room. I had to squeeze my eyes shut to ward off the last image I had of her. "I hope you know I hate you. I hate you for leaving me with this whole mess."

  I opened my eyes and focused on the photographs on her wall. Sienna dancing in our backyard, Sienna in her cheerleader uniform, Sienna and I in matching dresses for an Easter party.

  "I know, I know, it’s my mess," I said. "You were never good with messes. I can't walk away, though. You always moved forward, moved on, but I can't."

  Sienna had moved on and left me behind again. She had made a mess she did not know how to clean up and her suicide was only supposed to be a cry for help. I knew that now. She had just cut too deep and waited too long.

  Now, Owen was in a mess and refused to help himself.

  "It just hurts too much right now," I told Sienna. "I'll help him. I know you would want me to, but right now, I just wish you were here."

  I could see her standing in front of her closet, her hands on her hips. Sienna would have told me to focus on myself, make a plan. What did I want tomorrow to look like?

  At least that was becoming clearer. The more I thought about becoming an EMT, the more sense it made. I had liked nursing because I liked helping people, but the idea of walking the same white halls day in and day out made me feel trapped. It was too settled, too stationary, and I wanted to move. If I completed my training and earne
d my certification as an EMT, I would have more freedom.

  Sienna had been right about looking to the future. It calmed me and made me feel better. I had a plan and there was something I could do towards it. I wanted to earn the money for my training on my own. All I had to do was log on and try out more of the new Mars game. It felt good to have a clear way towards what I wanted. It was much easier than thinking about Owen.

  I headed downstairs and heard my parents in the kitchen. "Quinn? Is that you? We brought you back some food," my mother called.

  I joined them around our kitchen island. My mother was looking tired, her mouth drooping at the corners, but she forced a smile as she poured herself a glass of wine.

  "How has your night been?" my father asked. He clearly wanted to ask what I had been doing with my time. I knew it killed him to think I was just sitting around idle while my future hung in the balance.

  "Actually," I said. "I've got good news."

  "Really?" my mother asked. "It looks like you've been crying."

  I waved away her concern. "Mother thought it would be a good idea if I got my whole plan all figured out and then presented it like Sienna used to do," I said.

  My father flinched at Sienna's name. "So there's at least a plan forming."

  "And, I wanted to let you know I got a job in the meantime," I said. "You're not going to like it because it’s a video gaming job, but it pays well."

  "What kind of job?" he asked.

  "I'm testing out a new game. It’s called Beta Testing. I play the game and give the creators feedback. They track my progress through the game and make changes depending on what I am able to do."

  "So you're telling me you're going downstairs to play video games," my father said.

  "She just said it was a job, she's getting paid to do it," my mother said.

  "You think it’s okay if she throws away her future playing games?"

  My mother cringed at his harsh tone. Her mouth quivered and she finished her wine quickly. I did not like the clouded look in her eyes.

  "I don't need to work tonight," I said to my mother.

  She shook her head. "No, go ahead. I'm not feeling well. I'm going to head upstairs."

  She left and I stayed in the kitchen feeling nervous. My father pretended like nothing was wrong. He even tried to hum as he put away the food he had brought home for me. After the counter was cleared, he headed towards his office and shut the door.

  I checked my watch – it was not even 9 pm. The happy hour party at Owen's apartment was probably turning into an all-nighter. I shoved the thought away and headed downstairs. Sienna would have stayed focused.

  Still, I checked my messages before I logged on. There were two from Owen.

  "Quinn, I don't know what happened. I guess I freaked out. I forgot to eat and drank too much and it all fell apart. How did it all fall apart? I need to talk to you. I need to see you. Please, call me. I didn't mean to hurt you," his first message said.

  The second message hurt. "Your ex-boyfriend is all in my face telling me I cheated on you. You're going to believe him over me? I don't know what you think you saw, but you should know better. I'm not with Anya. How could you think that? Quinn, please call me. This is ridiculous. I can't believe you walked out on me."

  Owen thought I walked out on him? I tossed my phone aside before I could smash it. Instead of logging on, all I could do was pace the length of our basement family room. I knew I needed to let it go. There was no way I could respond to Owen now. The brisk pacing helped me. It would be stupid to do anything about it until the morning. There was no harm in letting it go until then. That meant I had hours to do something practical, something for myself.

  Finally, my breathing returned to normal. I picked up my phone, set it screen down on the coffee table, and tried to get to work. I found the secure website for the Beta version of the Mars game and was about to log on when my phone rang.

  I reached for it and then sat back three times before I finally picked it up. "Hello?"

  "Oh, Quinn. I'm glad I caught you," Darla said. "I just heard from some friends that Trent is coming out to visit you. I thought you might want a heads up."

  "Too late," I said. "I ran into him at a party at Owen's, but trust me that was not the worst part of my night."

  "Your ex arriving to try to charm you into forgiving him was not the worst part of your night? Do I even want to know?"

  "No. You probably don't want to know that right after Owen and I got closer than we've ever been, he drank too much and may or may not have made out with this gamer chick that's been trying to snag him for years," I said. "Oh, and you probably don't want to know that I think Owen's roommate is setting him up to take the fall for his drug-dealing. But, of course, Owen would not listen to me because he saw me with Trent."

  "Yeah, you were right," Darla said. "I did not want to know any of that – especially when I am four hours away and can't get there in time to help you!"

  I laughed. "Don't worry. I got out of there and I'm hiding out in my parents’ basement. Oh my God, I know that made it sound worse, but it’s actually okay."

  "Thank God you sound okay," she said. "So, have you thought more about taking that rich hottie's thank you money?"

  "It was tempting, but I'm going to do this for myself," I said.

  "Now that is what I wanted to hear," she said. "Every time you say something like that, you sound better than you have in months."

  "I feel better, too, about that at least." My phone buzzed. "Of course, right when I say that, I get a text from Trent."

  "Well, call me later if you need. Wake me up, I don't care. Miss you!" Darla said.

  She hung up and I checked the message from Trent.

  "Back at party, more people here. Asking around and no one in computers, tech, or web design. O is sobering up," he wrote.

  "Did you confront him?" I wrote back.

  "Yes. He had no idea what happened. Someone slip him shots?" Trent texted.

  "Don't care." I wrote.

  "Sorry, babe, here for you."

  "Sure you are," I said out loud. "You're at a party for me."

  I tried to ignore what Trent had said. Asking people what they did for a living was easy party talk so I was not surprised Trent had talked to people about it. The fact that none of Jasper's friends were in computers or IT was surprising. And it bothered me that Owen had gotten so drunk he did not remember the scene in the bedroom with Anya. Had someone slipped shots of alcohol into his beer to get him drunk faster?

  Another text from Trent buzzed my phone. "Anya left with Jasper. Got weird vibe. Am coming over to see you."

  "No thanks," I wrote back.

  Trent did not respond and I was not surprised when I heard the doorbell ten minutes later. I sprinted up the stairs, but my father's office was closer to the front door and he beat me to it.

  "Hello, Mr. Thomas, may I come in?" Trent asked in his best well-mannered voice.

  "I don't think so," my father said. He turned to glare at me. "Did you invite him over?"

  "No, actually I told him not to come," I said.

  Trent stood on his tiptoes to see me over my father's shoulder. "Know how I told you that Anya left with Jasper and it felt a little weird? Well, I got in my car and had only made it to the end of the block before I passed a police cruiser," he said.

  There was a noise upstairs. My father left the front door and went up the staircase to check on my mother. I took up his position blocking the entryway.

  Trent fidgeted on the front steps. "I know it was stupid, but I circled around and I saw the cops busting the party."

  "I really don't want this to be my problem," I said. "I tried to warn Owen and he did not want to listen to me."

  "I know, and I think you're right," Trent said. "I just wanted you to know I think your theory was right. Anya and Jasper left just before the cops arrived. I saw the cops taking Owen out to a squad car. They arrested him."

  My heart sank. So much for sta
ying out of it. "The police would not have done that unless they found something on him. Either Anya or Jasper planted something on Owen."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Quinn

  I hung on to the front door and wondered what I should do. If someone had slipped marijuana into his pocket, then the police had finally found what they were looking for. It would not matter if he had tested clean for drugs. The searches and the possession were against him. It was a thin case, but the police would have something on him now.

  "I just thought you should know," Trent said. "Owen's a big boy, he can take care of himself. It's really just a misdemeanor. He probably resisted and that's why he was taken in."

  "That makes it worse, don't you think?"

  "He made his own decisions," Trent said.

  "Not if his roommate planned to set him up in order to take the heat off himself," I objected. "This could ruin Owen's career, at the very least his credibility. He'll probably lose his sponsors."

  "But, honey, you don't have to fix it," Trent said. "You don't have to fix everyone."

  "There is a huge difference between trying to help and trying to fix someone," I said. "Trust me, I know."

  As if to illustrate what I had said, there was a commotion upstairs. "Just trust me," I could hear my father saying.

  I waved Trent out the front door and promised I would call him someday. He left and I shut the door just before my mother flew down the stairs.

  "Who was it? Was it the waitress? I didn't tip her well enough, I know I didn't," she said.

  "Mom, are you okay? What are you talking about?" I had seen the wild look in her eyes before and it froze my heart.

  My father came down the stairs and caught her in his arms. "Barbara, darling, I told you that I took care of the tip. There is nothing for you to worry about. How about I call the restaurant and tell the manager what a great job the waitress did? That'll fix it," he said.

  He steered her back up the stairs. My mother's worries were descending into gibberish, yet he responded with calm, soothing answers as if he could talk her out of it. I knew he had been through this dozens of times before, but it bothered me how he thought he could just brush it aside. She needed help, that was not normal, but my father was determined to fix it on his own.