Professor's Kiss: A Second Chance, Bully Romance. (Irish Kiss Book 2)

by Sienna Blake

  “Sounds like a Thursday night karaoke rendition,” I said. “Sufficient and utterly unmemorable.”

  Pencildick’s shoulders sagged with disappointment.

  “Next!” I yelled out.

  He trudged off the stage as one of the girls from the front row dashed onto the stage.

  I let out an internal sigh. The girls in the front had been making eyes at me since I walked in the first day; their tops getting progressively lower-cut and skirts progressively higher despite the cooling weather.

  “Hi, I’m Veronica Shaw.” She flashed me a smile. “But you already know that, don’t you, professor?”

  Her suggestive tone carried through the lecture hall. I fought not to roll my eyes. I knew about her. I knew all about girls like Veronica. They were a fucking insult to the music industry. All these “society girls” with no talent getting deals handed to them on a plate because of who their family was or who they were fucking.

  More importantly I knew who her daddy was. The asswipe producer who had twisted my first album into a soulless grotesque rock pop album. Just for carrying his DNA, I would have hated her if I hadn’t already.

  Veronica launched into a sticky-sweet rendition of a Girls Aloud song.

  I wanted to claw my own ears out.

  “That’s enough,” I yelled when I couldn’t take it anymore.

  Veronica turned towards me, a triumphant smile on her face. “How was I?”

  I wanted to rip her into pieces in front of the whole damn class. Lord knew she deserved it. It’d do her good not to have someone simpering at her feet. But my ass would be handed to me on a platter by Mrs Prim via her father. And I promised Rickie I’d behave. Well, as much as I could. I promised him I’d try not to let him down.

  “Vanilla enough for the mass-produced kind of candy pop you’ll no doubt release after you graduate, Ms Shaw.”

  She frowned.

  “Next!” I shouted out before she figured out that I had actually insulted her.

  One by one the students made their way up to the front. Some were good. Most were okay. One played “Layla”, a classic Eric Clapton song, on a guitar that he brought with him. He was half-decent. I even managed a clap when he was finished.

  I glanced at my watch. We had ten minutes left of class and had time enough to hear one more, maybe two, but fucked if I could stand to hear this shite anymore. I had a headache, a throbbing pulse at my temple, and I wanted to go lie down in a dark room for an hour or ten.

  I walked over to the wall and turned the lights on, my eyes going straight for her “spot” without me realising.

  She was leaning into Pencildick beside her, their heads together, his mouth moving, her attention on him as if he was spilling the secrets of the fucking universe.

  Then she giggled.

  She fucking giggled.

  As if Pencildick was actually funny.

  Something in me snapped.

  “This is the second fucking time today I’ve caught you talking during my class, Ms Kavanagh,” I called out before I could stop myself.

  Ailis flinched and straightened, her eyes piercing me when they landed on me. I watched her throat bob.

  “Professor,” called Pencildick from her side, “it was my fault.”

  I ignored him.

  “Ms Kavanagh. Seeing as you have so much to say, you should go next.”

  19

  ____________

  Ailis

  “…you should go next.”

  Please, no.

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. Seven minutes to go until the end of class. “But we don’t have enough t—”

  “We have plenty of time for one more song.”

  Why did I not want to sing in front of him? We used to sing together all the time.

  “Come on, Ms Kavanagh,” Danny’s voice taunted. “You’re not…scared of me, are you?”

  That’s your problem, Danny’s words came back to me. At the first sign of fear, you run.

  I would not run.

  I stood, my resolve trying to harden in my chest despite the hammering of my heart. I slid past Ethan, his whispered “good luck” sliding off me, and walked carefully down the aisle so I didn’t trip. Everyone’s eyes were on me, yet again. But Danny’s were all I could see, those blue-flame portals to hell.

  My skin tightened, goosebumps skittering across it as I reached centre stage and I stood before Danny.

  “Let’s hear it, Dearg,” he said low enough so only I could hear.

  He flicked off the lights so only the spotlight remained. As I turned to face the room, my blood started pounding in my veins.

  I’d played and sang to packed pubs. To apathetic crowds, to crowds so drunk and loud I could barely be heard over the ruckus.

  This should be a piece of cake.

  So why wasn’t it?

  It was Danny. His nearness made my vocal chords tighten, making my breath wheeze out of my lungs.

  I’d been playing for years, performing for years, and I’d never gotten stage fright like this before. What the hell was going on?

  I wiped my hands on my skirt, tried to imagine that everyone in here was in their underwear, an old trick for calming performance nerves.

  An image of Danny in a pair of designer briefs flashed through my mind.

  My mouth went dry and my blood heated.

  Omg, no! Stop imagining him in his underwear.

  “I’m waiting, Ms Kavanagh.” Danny’s deep voice rumbling through my fantasy sent a shiver down my spine.

  I shoved these thoughts away.

  Focus.

  Concentrate.

  Sing.

  I cleared my throat, opened my mouth and pushed out the first few bars of “Feeling Good”, a twenties blues classic. Barely any sound came out.

  “Pathetic, Ms Kavanagh. Drink some water. Try again.”

  Water wasn’t going to help. I needed Danny to stop staring at me, to stop raking my body with his disapproving glare, to stop pacing around me like a tiger about to devour his prey.

  Danny shoved a bottle of water in my hand—his bottle of water that he’d been sipping on during class.

  Oh God, I couldn’t drink from this. His lips had been there… That’d practically be like kissing him.

  The thought of his lips on mine as he kissed me wearing only his underwear seared through my body. That sealed the deal. Today was officially the worst day of my life.

  That’s a pretty big call for a cancer survivor.

  “Drink, Ms Kavanagh.”

  I had to do something. They were all sitting there waiting for me to do something, dammit, probably wondering how the fuck I managed to get into this prestigious school.

  I took a quick sip from the bottle and Danny snatched it from my hand.

  Don’t think of kissing him. Don’t think of him in his underwear.

  I took a deep breath and began again.

  The notes came out of my mouth this time, louder, but only slightly. I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs to project anything. And my throat was too tight.

  But I kept going. I kept singing, even as my cheeks burned with embarrassment. I batted away feelings of wanting to crawl into a hole and die.

  “No.” Danny’s deep voice, right behind me, shocked me.

  So did his arms, which slid around me, his fingers pressing on the spot just above the top of my stomach where my diaphragm was. My body erupted into flames.

  “From here,” he growled in my ear, sending another rush of liquid heat down my body. “Sing from here.”

  I was on fire.

  I was drowning.

  I was falling through an endless black hole, and God help me when I hit the bottom.

  “Sing, dammit,” Danny demanded in my ear low enough for only me to hear, “sing like I know you can, Ailis.”

  My actual name on his lips rumbled through me like a storm.

  I wanted to sink against him. To open my mouth and scream with pleasure, relief, the lus
t-soaked pain of having his hands on me.

  Then I blinked, remembering all those eyes on us through the black curtain that fell around the spotlight.

  Oh God, my nipples were poking through my shirt, my panties soaked, lust written all over my face in front of the whole fucking class. I’d stopped singing but I’m pretty sure I just moaned. Moaned, for fuck’s sake.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. Not his touch. Not his disappointment in me. Not their eyes or their judgements. Or my desires laid bare for all to see.

  I shoved his hands off me, my skin burning, marking me as a scarlet woman for the world to judge.

  I ran out of the room.

  20

  ____________

  Ailis

  I didn’t stop running until I reached my apartment.

  It was only when I got to the door that I realised I’d run out of the college with nothing. I’d left all my things in class. Including my house keys, dammit.

  Well, I wasn’t bleedin’ going back there now. Not while the shame was still raw in my chest and coated my cheeks with heat. I slumped against the door and slid to the floor, pushing my face into my knees.

  Why did I bolt out of there like a scared rabbit?

  Why did Danny have to make me so fecking crazy?

  Why why why did he have to crash back into my life now?

  Ugh, I wouldn’t be able to show my face in Advanced Performance & Arrangement anymore. I’ll fail out of college and end up waitressing in a dive back in Limerick, living with my parents in my childhood bedroom forever. I’ll die bitter and lonely on a pile of my broken dreams.

  Kill. Me. Now.

  An hour later, I’d cooled my self-pitying stew into a mere simmer. When Anna arrived home, she found me slumped against the door, hugging my knees.

  “Thank God you’re home,” I said, rising to my feet, “I left my keys in class in my—”

  “I know.” Anna held my bag out to me. “Ethan messaged me and I picked it up off him after I finished class.”

  “Thank you.” I took my bag from her. Thank God. I didn’t have to shamefully sneak back into college to get my stuff back.

  She gave me a look, like what the hell happened there?

  “Don’t ask.”

  I didn’t let her push any further. I ran into my bedroom and shut the door behind me, where I hid for the rest of the day.

  21

  ____________

  Danny

  Ailis Kavanagh.

  She was fucking everywhere.

  Everywhere I walked in this school, there she was with her damn walk and her smell of vanilla and lilies that seemed to linger, wearing mismatched secondhand clothes that couldn’t hide that body.

  Then it turns out that she was in my class, for fuck’s sakes. When I headed to the office to see if I could get her school records, she was already there, begging to be transferred.

  It pissed me off that she’d even think of transferring.

  It pissed me off even more when Ms Doyle said that there was no way that she could transfer.

  She and I were stuck together.

  For one whole year.

  My Advanced Performance & Arrangement Class was a fucking nightmare.

  Because of her.

  Sitting in that corner pretending to be all innocent and quiet. Rattling my focus. She was like a too bright light that I couldn’t ignore, glaring in my eyes.

  Then when she got up to sing, I had to go and touch her. In front of everyone. My arms wrapping around her to press at her diaphragm before I knew what I was doing.

  She made me lose my mind.

  I grabbed my phone and was this close to calling Rickie and telling him I fucking quit. Then I remembered everything that man had done for me and I told myself to suck it up, princess. I owed him. I would not let him down.

  I needed access to their recording studios.

  And I would not be beaten by a little girl.

  Except Ailis Kavanagh was not a little girl anymore.

  She was a woman.

  A temptress.

  A sorceress.

  Even when it was just me up on stage, speaking out to the lecture hall, I was only talking to her, could only see her, the world around her fuzzy, out of focus, all muted and grey. She was the only one in colour.

  I felt drunk in her presence. High. It took all of my willpower not to let it show.

  This was dangerous.

  She was dangerous.

  Because she was making me want to break all my own rules.

  No distractions.

  No relationships.

  Definitely no falling in love.

  I mean, look at my father. Four failed marriages, countless affairs and a stint in rehab for sex addiction.

  Relationships ruined talent. It ruined art.

  I would not let her—would not let anyone—ruin me.

  22

  ____________

  Danny

  Then – Limerick, Ireland

  “Man, there’s that Ailis chick…”

  My ears pricked up at her name. I was at the last party of the summer holidays, lazing on the shady side of the pool deck with a bunch of guys from school, a small blunt being passed around. I didn’t feel like partying, but I didn’t want to be “home” either. My father had been in prime cunty form since we’d come back from his “failed”—his words, not mine—tour over the summer.

  I guess I did have one thing to look forward to. As of tomorrow, I’d be a senior. One more fucking year, then I was out of here. I’d be eighteen and I wouldn’t have to put up with his fucking shit anymore.

  I couldn’t help but glance over to where Eoin was leering. Ailis had just walked into the outside area, standing with a friend of hers on the other side of the pool in a short mermaid-green dress that stopped a few inches below her ass, showing off a set of creamy slim thighs. The low-cut top showed off her small waist and hugged a set of perky round tits.

  Holy fuck.

  They were new.

  “Jesus, she’s turned into a fucking ride over the summer.” Eoin grabbed his crotch and rubbed it. “Damn. Do you think she’s a moaner or a screamer?”

  Violence gripped my body, tightening my hand around the beer bottle I had in my right hand. I wanted to smash it over his fucking disrespectful head.

  “Shut up, Eoin.” I said, gritted through my teeth.

  “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do her,” he scoffed.

  “Eoin,” I warned, my blood boiling to dangerous levels.

  Over on the other side of the pool, Ailis was swaying her hips to the sexy RnB tune that was floating out from the house. She had no fucking idea how much of a turn-on she was. She’d always been sexy to me. Now everyone else was seeing it.

  “I bet she’d let me fuck her creamy virgin ass.”

  I lost my shit. My hand holding my beer came down, smashing the bottle, turning it into a jagged weapon. I leapt at Eoin, knocking us both over. Using my fighting training, I pinned his body down with my hips and leaned an elbow against his throat, using my weight to hold him still. I held the sharp edge of the broken bottle up to his cheek and pressed, not enough to break skin. Yet.

  “You touch her and I’ll fucking kill you,” I hissed, my voice coming out as if I were possessed.

  “Shit, shit,” Eoin whimpered. “I didn’t mean it, man.”

  Hands tugged me back.

  “Settle down, Danny,” one of the guys said.

  “Come on, Danny relax.”

  Did someone turn off the music? Suddenly everything seemed so damn quiet. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. I could feel her eyes on me.

  I was making a scene.

  I was revealing too much.

  I shoved myself off Eoin, dropped the broken bottle, and straightened my jacket. I ignored the looks of everyone as I stormed around the pool into a side door of the house. I grabbed a half-empty bottle of Jameson as I made my way up to the second floor.

  I opened a bedroom door to find
a couple making out on the bed.

  “Get out,” I growled.

  They both leapt to their feet, smoothing their clothes and hair before bolting past me. I slammed the door shut and jammed a chair against it so no one would disturb me.

  I walked to the window, taking swigs of the whiskey straight, letting the burn course down my throat and through my veins.

  For the rest of the night, like a fucking creeper, I watched Ailis through the window. Wondering why she was destined to torment me.

  23

  ____________

  Ailis

  Now – Dublin, Ireland

  It took another week before I could brave Advanced Performance & Arrangement class again. After the disaster I made out of the last class, I couldn’t bear to be near Danny. He just threw up so many confusing…feelings.

  But I couldn’t hide forever. Not if I wanted to pass this class and my course and have a career.

  Ethan slipped into his usual seat beside me up the back of the lecture hall with a wink. “Nice to see you haven’t dropped out.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered. “What did I miss last week?”

  He paused just a second too long. “Not much.”

  I shot him a look as if to say, really?

  Ethan’s cool façade broke. His eyes lit up. “You should have been here, Ailis. He performed an acoustic version of “Give Up All the Stars” for us. God, it was so good. He had everyone hanging off the edge of their seats. The doorway crammed full of passing students.”

  Damn it to hell. That song always gave me goosebumps. It would have been incredible to hear it live.

  “Then,” Ethan continued, “he talked us through his personal pre-performance tips and tricks.”

  Double damn.

  I made myself a promise not to skip another lecture, regardless of how Danny made me feel. I was here to learn as much as I could. I just had to ignore the fact that my teacher was also my ex-best friend and ex-bully.