3. Fletcher

"What can I do for you, Mr. Moore?" Goddamn, I love how growly his voice gets when he's irritated. Which around me, is 90 percent of the time.

I offer him my biggest, most charming smile—hell, I think I even bat my eyelashes at the man. When it comes to Professor Ronan Barlowe, I have no shame. Class just ended, and people are filing out, so I keep my voice fairly low. "I was wondering if you need a TA for next semester."

The man before me looks at me incredulously. And just stares for what feels like forever. I mean, honestly, I'm not one to get nervous, but the guy is making even me a little twitchy. "Are you serious?" He also keeps his voice pretty low but deadly as he looks me square in the eyes.

The last person leaves, but the door is open, and the halls are bustling. "Of course. Why not? I'm an excellent assistant," I say with a little hint of a tease to it.

Those hazel eyes are shooting downright daggers at me now. He looks almost murderous. And fuck, if that doesn't make my cock hard. I can't explain it. There's just something about this man that makes all common sense go out the window.

I know he's dangerous. I know he's a professor at the college I attend and that it's maybe a little inappropriate for me to have this big of an obsession with him. But the dude haunts my dreams. What can I say?

"No," he says firmly and simply before grabbing his bag and draping it across his chest, the strap lying over his broad shoulder.

He moves past me, but of course, I keep up with him, not able to let it go. "No? Just like that?"

He stops, his face a mask of indifference, but I see the irritation bubbling just under the surface. God help me, but I love making him lose his cool. Just a little. The guy doesn't flinch. He doesn't falter. He's too serious all the time. Too buttoned-up, and I don't like it.

For some reason, from the moment I saw him, I knew it was my job to loosen him up. I'd like it if I could make him a little more fun and happy, but I'm settling for that little vein in his temple to pulse and his body to grow so rife with tension that he gives me a verbal lashing.

I like what I like.

Don't judge me.

My blood races through my veins, full of excitement when he steps into me. His height matches my own, though I'd say I have about twenty pounds of solid muscle on him—but still, his stance is intimidating and sexy as all hell.

Yeah, I'm for sure in trouble here.

"Yes, Mr. Moore," he bites out, his voice clipped and stern. "Just like that. No. Absolutely not. I would never ask you to be a teacher's assistant for me. I have a week and a half left with you, and I'm counting down the days. After that, you're someone else's problem."

"I'd be an excellent TA. I'm top of the class without even having to try."

"And that's the problem, isn't it, Mr. Moore?" He glares at me. "You don't try. You don't take anything seriously enough to put any effort into anything. You take pride in absolutely nothing," he seethes, and my smirk falls, a frown taking it's spot. "So the answer is no. Have a good day."

He leaves me standing there in the hall, a cold feeling going through me from his words. But then, I take a deep breath and force my feet to keep walking.

He really doesn't like me. And that's fine. Totally fine.

I keep telling myself that all the way to my car that's in one of the lots near the building. Yes, I can easily walk to class, but I knew I'd feel like a drive after class and didn't want to go back to my place first.

And good thing too.

I'm wound tight, and I'm grateful I don't have any more classes today. But as I approach my brand-new, bright-blue Jeep Wrangler—thank you, Rhys and Blair—I stop short when I see Bree is here, leaning against the front.

I start walking again, picking up my pace as I approach her. "Bree? Are you okay? Is everyone okay?" I look around her frantically, panic setting in.

"Hey, everyone is fine," she says and places a hand on my shoulder to steady me. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

I try to brush that off but fail pretty quickly. Bree has no problem reading me, and after my little interaction with Professor Barlowe, I'm not in the mood to even try to keep up the charade. "So, everyone is okay?"

She nods at that and then gives me a really quick hug that I return before she releases me. "Yeah, everyone is fine."

"What brings you here then?" I ask lightly, not wanting her to think I don't want to see her. I always want to see Bree. Not only is she now my sister, she's been my best friend for over half my life.

"You're coming to my graduation, right?"

I lean against the front of my Jeep, sitting my ass right next to hers. "Of course I am. Wouldn't miss it." She nods slowly, but I know Bree—something is up. "What's wrong?" Is Blair driving you crazy with the planning?"

Bree grins, and I know that's exactly what's going on. "She means well."

I toss my head back and laugh about that. "She does."

"But oh my God, Fletch. She's invited so many people. I thought I made it clear to her I don't like people, but I guess not."

I laugh again because I can't help it. I think Bree might be even more antisocial than Rhett. "She knows. I swear. She's just wanting to make it perfect." I nudge Bree's small shoulder with my own. "I think this is probably hard for her. You're the last of the three leaving the nest."

Bree looks slightly guilty about that, and I feel like an asshole. That's not on her. And Blair is just as excited for Bree as she is sad that she's leaving. "I know it is. But she does have Max and Ian to dote all over now."

I grin. "She still trying to get them to wear matching outfits? Remember when she did that shit for our first family picture?"

Bree grins so big, I think it has to hurt her cheeks. "God, I love that woman."

"Me too," I say easily. "Guess a little out of control and way too many people in one place is worth having her in our lives."

"Oh, 100 percent," she laughs in agreement.

"So you drove an hour just to ask me that? There are these pretty cool things called phones. They send a message like magic. Don't even have to get in the car."

She shoves my shoulder. "Shut. Up. I'm actually meeting a friend in a few minutes and thought I'd stop by to see you first. Noticed your big ole blue gas sucker and decided to wait."

"You don't have friends."

She cackles at that. "Asshole." She shrugs. "Shana goes to school here too." I smile because Shana was the one friend besides Rhett and me she allowed around her in high school. And Shana was in Rhett's and my grade, so she graduated with us.

I eye her car, parked a few spots away from mine, and shake my head. Bree is very big on the environment. When I got the bigass Jeep, she asked for an electric car. "Admit it, you had to charge that little metal box you call a car, and that's really why you came to campus."

She flips me off and pushes off my bumper. "I'm glad you'll be at my party. You know she even invited Josh?" She pretends to gag, but I straight up tense at the name.

Josh was the closest thing Grayson had to a best friend in high school, and he totally made out with Bree at a party where they both had way too much to drink, and Bree accidentally drunkenly outed Grayson, right then and there.

But Josh was a lot cooler than we all thought and didn't miss a beat when he found out his friend was gay.

Of course, I kind of fucked up that summer and fooled around with him too. And Christmas break. Thankfully, it was not a love connection between Josh and Bree or I'd feel like a total asshole.

But the reason I'm tense is that Bree has no idea about any of it. No one does. Because once she knows about it, she'd be fine with it. Just like Blair. Probably totally inappropriate but fine. But when I open my mouth to tell her about it, I can't do it.

There's some sort of weird block there I hate. I internally curse myself, and Bree doesn't miss it. "You okay? You look pale."

I clear my throat and start to walk toward her car. She follows along. "I'm fine."

She unlocks her car and opens the door, climbing in. "Okay, well why don't you go get your big ass some food?"

I smile and nod. "Okay. I will. Be careful."

She waves to me. "See you at the party." She closes her door, and I wave before moving out of her way, so she can leave the lot.

As I walk back to my car, I'm surprised yet again as my favorite professor approaches the gray Lexus next to my Jeep. His hazel glare meets mine as I unlock my Jeep, loving that the beep sound is extra obnoxious.

"Nice car," I taunt him, opening my door.

"Thanks," he bites out, clearly not happy to see me. "My mommy and daddy didn't pay for it."

Prick.

He got me though. He gives me a cold smile before he climbs behind the wheel of his fancy ass car, starting it, then leaving the parking lot without another look in my direction.

Damn, I love seeing that little hint of fight he has in him.

Nothing hotter, in my opinion.

He thinks it pushes me away, but really, all it is, is a beacon to my fucked-up soul.