Page 6 of Classroom Confessions

“I can’t get her to shut up.” I said it with more bite than I intended, and Cole arched a brow. “She has very clear feelings about English Literature.” I picked lint from my slacks and crossed my ankle over my knee, attempting to appear nonchalant.

I failed, and Cole was quick to call me out on my bullshit. “You like her.” He straightened his shoulders. “Damn. Didn’t see that coming.”

Standing, I pointed at him. “You do too. Don’t even try to argue. I saw your face when you said her name.” Heat seared through me. “She’s off limits, Cole.”

“I know that, Ethan.” He drew my name out into a curse. “We could lose our jobs. Our credibility. We’d never work at another college.”

The risk was too high. Rebecca was perfectly legal as far as her age, but not in this situation.

“I need a drink.” Pushing both hands through my hair, I upended the careful style and shrugged out of my suit jacket. “You coming?”

“Absolutely.” Cole snatched his keys from the desk drawer and spun them around his finger. “I’ll drive.”

I didn’t argue. I might need to get shit-faced drunk tonight if I wanted to knock Rebecca loose from my brain. Nothing else was working. Hell, I’d jerked off in the shower this morning while imagining her face and still ended up with a semi during class today.

Cole whistled as we walked out the back door and into the employee parking lot. His jovial demeanor pissed me off.

“Do you have to do that?” I yanked open the door to his blue sedan and waved a hand to dispel the heat.

“Do what?” Cole smirked, always the little shit.

I dropped into the car and cranked up the air conditioning. “I’m calling David. Maybe he’ll meet us at Joe’s.”

Joe’s, the local bar and lounge, hosted a variety of drinks, meals, and entertainment for the local college scene.

Most students went further into town, to the swankier places. Cole, David, and I preferred the dim, old-school vibe at Joe’s.

“It’s karaoke night.” Cole tapped his watch like I’d forgotten which day of the week it was. “Things might get noisy.”

Good. I could use the caterwauling to drown out my own thoughts and the constant cycle that brought me back to Rebecca.

“David’s not answering.” I pocketed my phone and leaned my head back against the seat rest.

Cole wheeled into the lot and shut off the engine. “More drinks for us. Come on.” He slapped my knee. “Let’s go.”

Joe’s parking lot held a grand total of twenty cars, which meant things were still slow inside.

Great. Maybe we’d get faster service and I could drown my problems faster.

The bouncer at the door waved us inside without checking our ID. Guess he’d gotten tired of it after seeing us on the weekly for five-plus years. We walked into the dim interior and paused until our eyes adjusted. The smells of greasy food, beer, and too much cologne mingled into a spicy concoction unique to the place. I breathed it in like a fucking aphrodisiac, though that was the last thing I needed tonight. Men and women carried drinks to tables and booths. Joe stood behind the bar, pouring a drink for two men with their attention more on each other than Joe. He jerked his head in a silent greeting.

I held up two fingers, and we made our way to a booth on the left, tucked in the corner where we could see the whole place but were far enough away from the stage that we wouldn’t go deaf. A band played there now, the low hum of voices mingling with the acoustic guitar and general noise. “Fuck, yes.” Sinking into the seat, I rubbed my eyes.

Joe himself carried over our drinks, a whiskey neat for me and a top-shelf beer for Cole.

“Keep ’em coming.” I downed the whiskey and slammed the glass on the table.

Cole didn’t say a word but drained half his beer in one go.

I held up a steady finger, intent on getting my point across before I forgot. “You’re the designated driver. Only two for you.”

“He’s drowning his sorrows.” Cole’s shitty grin caused Joe to smile back.

He took my glass and backed away. “Just don’t cause trouble.”

“Have we ever?” Cole splayed his hands innocently, the gleam in his eyes on the verge of dangerous.

We’d never started anything, but we damned well finished it when needed.

---