Page 20 of Love on the Ice

I’m only brought out of my thoughts when Ayden mentions making signs.

“Signs?” I ask.

She laughs. “Oh my gosh, we have to make crazy signs. This is going to be so much fun,” she says, adding a little squeal at the end.

Brainstorming commences.

Between clothes and signs, the girls get busy. And I watch quietly, not adding much because my mind is still swirling with everything. Between my professor, dinner with Reid, then Reid and Brooklynn, and finally just plain Reid and every part of him.

I don’t add much to the evening. But I do enjoy being with my friends. And it lightens my heart from the whole professor thing, even though I can’t forget about it.

REID

Brooklynn has no issue giving me the name of the professor who harassed Lorelai. MacDonald. She also tells me to be careful and not get myself arrested, but the jerk deserves to get his ass beaten, and I wholly agree. I’m not about to be arrested, though, because I have a game this week.

That doesn’t mean I’m not going to stare the absolute shit out of him. Because that’s exactly what I plan on doing.

When I find his name on the school’s website, I’m in luck, because he has an evening class tonight. Climbing in my SUV, I start the engine and shift the car into Drive when there is a knock at the window.

I swing my head to the side and look over to find Otto standing at the door. When I unlock the car, he tugs the door open and climbs inside. Arching a brow, I don’t even ask him why he’s here. I haven’t told any of my roommates anything, but I can tell he notices my distress.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asks.

“I’m going to try very hard not to kill a college professor tonight,” I state.

He whistles. “Do I want to know why?” ‘

Otto is always, always the voice of reason when we lose our shit. But I have a feeling it's going to hit him hard when I tell him exactly why I’m ready to kill this motherfucker. Because I am.

“He tried to blackmail Lorelai,” I grind out.

“How?” he asks.

I know that my next words are going to hit, and they do—hard. “Lorelai got an F on her final exam, and he told her if she wanted a better grade, she could trade him sexual favors. I’m pretty sure she didn’t get a fucking F.”

“He didn’t,” he murmurs.

With a snort, I continue driving straight for the college. “He really fucking did.”

“I mean, I don’t want to get arrested, but let’s scare the absolute shit out of him because what he did wasn’t right. And as much as I think we should go to admin, I also know that it’s his word against a student's who supposedly got an F in his class. So, we both know how that will play out.”

As always, Otto is absolutely correct. He’s always the calm, cool, collected one. He’s the one who will, without a doubt, make it in the world because he always stops and thinks before he makes a decision—unlike the rest of us, who punch first and ask questions later.

So when I see him fired up, I know this is big and not just me blowing something out of proportion. I park in the student lot and climb out of the front seat. Otto does the same. Together, we walk straight toward the classroom. Rage continues to fill me with each step I take closer to the classroom.

Luckily, the buildings are marked clearly. You don’t have to guess what part of the school this classroom is in. Besides, between Brooklynn and the internet, I have the classroom number and the time it’s let out.

Standing in front of the room, I lean against a pole and wait. Five minutes pass before the door opens and students begin to file out of the room. When there aren’t any more, I jerk my chin toward Otto, and we move straight toward the door.

I tug it open and walk through.

He follows behind me, but what I see when I step into the classroom sends my blood boiling.

There, on her knees, is a student.

She turns her head, her wild eyes finding mine, and scrambles to her feet. Without a word, she runs out of the room. I should stop her and ask her if she’s okay, but I don’t. She is gone before the words even enter my brain.

Because all I can do is stare at this man in front of me. This fucking predator. He doesn’t deserve to be where he is. He’s worthless. He fixes his pants as he stands, his face turning bright red, and spittle leaves his mouth with his words.

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