Page 5 of Bad Professor

I’ve known the two of them since we lived together in university. There were four of us—Marcus is a businessman, married now and expecting his first child—and while our lives all took different tangents, we’ve stayed close.

“He’s been hitting pretty well this month.” I’m not a huge sports fan, but I follow Nick’s career out of loyalty. Plus, it’s pretty cool when your best friend plays professional baseball.

“Two eighty-nine average,” Max says.

We watch Nick take a practice swing and take his stance with a frisson of anticipation.

The first pitch is a ninety-one-mile fastball that hits Nick on the wrist.

He goes down.

“Jesus Christ!” Max jumped up, his chair skidding into the table behind us. “Did you see that?”

“That looks bad.” On-screen, the coach and trainer jog out to where Nick is still lying on the dirt, cradling his hand. I reach for my phone.

“There’s nothing we can do,” Max frets. “He’s not gonna pick up his phone.”

“I’ll leave him a message, tell him we saw what happened and to give us an update.” My message goes straight to voice mail and I text him the same thing. “I hope he’s okay.”

“Yeah.” Nick’s whole life has been baseball, which has messed up any chance at a serious relationship he’s ever had. He’s a good guy who deserves the best, and a fastball to the wrist is not the best for anyone.

He’s out of the game and hopefully on route to a good hospital. We continue to watch the game, but my heart’s not into it. I feel sick for my friend.

I look around the bar and my gaze falls on a couple a few tables away. He’s gesturing energetically with his hands, looking pleased with himself and she’s—

She looks bored.

There’s no other word for it. She manages a hint of a smile and nods at what he says now and again, but it’s clear she’s not impressed.

She catches me looking at her. I smile, but she looks away.

Until she glances back with a tiny smile at the corners of her mouth. “Hey,” I mouth, but she drops her gaze.

She’s pretty.

I shift on the stool so I can see her better but hopefully not make it obvious I’m staring. Max is still into the game, talking back to the commentators who are speculating on Nick’s injury. I should be paying attention too.

Instead, I turn back to her and catch her looking at me.

She’s everything you’d want in a woman checking you out in a bar—straight blonde hair falling past her shoulders, big blue eyes. Her lips are covered in some sort of shiny pink gloss, which will come off on her wineglass before her date can kiss it off.

For some reason, I really don’t like the thought of him kissing her.

“You look bored,” I mouth when I have her full attention. I fake a yawn and she does her best to hide her smile.

I’d say close to my age and way too attractive for the guy she’s with.

But it’s when she stands up that I really take notice.

Curvy curves on a compact figure. She’s shorter than I expected and the curves are mouthwatering. Delicious.

She walks right by me on the way to the washroom, with the tiniest of glances toward me. If I wasn’t watching so closely, trying to tuck my tongue back into my mouth like some sort of vintage cartoon character, I would have missed it.

“Back in a minute,” I tell Max.

4

Tilly

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