5. Ronan

"You did not agree to that." I stare at Annie, trying like crazy not to lose my shit. There's no way she would do this.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I did." She at least has the decency to look guilty after admitting she took Fletcher Moore on as a TA for next semester. Fletcher. Moore. The bane of my existence.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," she says quickly. "He looked at me with those big blue eyes of his and pouted at me. Before I knew it, I was saying yes." I hardly believe she didn't think about it very seriously though. I know Annie. She thinks about everything, but I don't understand how she could have said yes.

"He's very convincing," Nathan butts in.

I don't normally get angry with my two best friends, but right now, I'm completely furious with Annie. "How could you agree to that? And do not tell me you have a crush on the eternal child," I growl. The thought makes me sick to my stomach. She's smarter than this.

She rolls her eyes at me and waves me off. "Pretty sure my wife would have something to say about that."

I bite my tongue and don't throw out there the very real controversy going around campus with a married professor because I know, without a doubt, Annie is 100 percent committed to her marriage. "Well..."

"Well nothing. Yes, I'm an out and proud bisexual, and he's very pretty to look at. No, I don't do anything based on looks alone, and he's a damn fetus. And I'm happily married. I would never do anything to fuck that up. While he's stupid hot?—"

"He's not." I feel the need to argue.

She doesn't miss a beat. "He is, but I'm not attracted to him in the slightest. He's pretty to look at, but that's not what I meant when I said he flashed those big eyes and pout and it worked. There's something deeper inside Fletcher."

"There's not," I argue again. "Nothing at all. He played you, like he plays everyone. He doesn't need to be a damn TA." I cannot believe she fell for his charm, that anyone would fall for his charm. It's beyond ridiculous to me.

"I think he does," Annie says, putting her foot down hard. "I know you think he's a spoiled brat—" she starts, and again I rudely interrupt her.

"He is. Those ridiculous tank tops he wears? They're like a hundred dollars. For a scrap of material."

"Okay, grandpa," she says and pats my shoulder. I huff, and she goes on, "He seemed to really want this. And he's smart. I'd be an idiot to pass up an excellent assistant like him. And besides, he seems to need a challenge." She takes a bite of the salad she's been picking at while we're at lunch at our favorite café near campus. I was enjoying the damn lunch, too, until she dropped this bomb on me. "And a challenge I will give him."

I have no doubt she will, but I can't believe she told Fletcher yes. I don't imagine he hears no all that often. "Really? In sociology?"

She frowns at me. "Dick."

I grin at that, but I'm still angry. Well, not really angry. She can do whatever she wants, but I'm not happy he's going to be her TA. That it's very likely I'll see him in her office—which is right next to mine. And I'll see him on campus because the sociology building is right next to the economics building. It's a small damn campus. "Good luck next semester then. Nothing is going to get done."

"Do you want to talk about why you hate this kid so damn much?" Annie asks, and Nathan rests his chin on his hand, propped up on the table, waiting for my answer.

"I don't hate him."

"You do," they both say, and I bristle.

"I don't," I say quickly. "I just . . ."

"You had to work hard for every single thing, and he has it easy. Or appears to," Annie supplies.

I roll my eyes but hate that she's nailed it. "Can you blame me?" I've watched spoiled kids like him my whole life. Taking everything for granted. Lazing around while I was working my ass off just to survive.

She shrugs and takes another bite of her salad. "Yes. I can because you're a smart man, Ronan. You can't let this get to you. He's a good kid who wants to help. There's nothing wrong with that, and he's smart as hell."

"Just because he reads for fun," I grumble.

She tosses a crouton at me from across the table, and I open my mouth just in time to catch it and chew. She laughs and rolls her eyes at me. "Very nice." I shrug and swallow before she goes on, "I like the kid. I think you should give him a chance. There's more to him than what we see in class."

"There really isn't," I say again, being totally petulant, but damn it, she can't be right about this. "He was finally going to be out of my hair. One week left, and then it's just a final."

She doesn't look sympathetic in the slightest. "And he still is. He's no longer your student. Not your assistant either. Not your problem, Ronan."

"But he'll be around."

"You sound like a child," she shoots back at me, and I hate how disappointed she looks at me right now. I know I'm being ridiculous. I know that, but I can't help it.

There's something about Fletcher that makes me want him as far away from me as possible.

As soon as possible.

And thanks to my dear friend, Annie, that won't be so soon now.