Page 5 of Kiss and Make Love

After listening to the best worst rendition of “Like a Virgin” she’d ever heard from a short, 80-something-year-old woman, she waved at Chad. He hustled over with hope of sex in his eyes.

“Guess I won’t be needing that ride after all,” she informed him.

“You sure?” He cocked an eyebrow at her, inquiring without saying the words:so we aren’t gonna bang?

“Don’t have a choice, to be honest.” Spencer feigned annoyance and pointed to her professor stalking through the front door of the bar. Really, she was thrilled at the sight of him. She’d never seen him quite like he looked at this moment.

Clearly, he’d been asleep prior to her texts. His hair was disheveled, and a pillow crease lined his cheek. What caught her eye, however, was the lack of a signature sweater vest and all-around professor attire. In its place was a black hooded sweater and—lord have mercy—a pair of heathered grey sweatpants. His stormy gaze locked on her as he marched to where she was seated.

“Let’s go, Spencer.”

“Whoa, whoa, my man. I’m takin’ Spencer home.It’s not a problem,” Chad interjected. His lack of ability to read the room was unsurprising.

“I don’t think so,my man,” Mr. Monroe retorted, mocking the bartender. She’d never seen him mock someone before. Did he sound a bit…pissed off? “Spencer?” His eyes were on her again.

“Sorry, Chad. I better take off. Next time.” She grinned and wiggled her fingers at him in a gesture that looked something like a wave goodbye.

“Whatever you say, babe. I’m around.” He smirked and headed back to the bar to serve another party who was wrapping up their karaoke session.

“How much did you have to drink?” Mr. Monroe gently led her toward the exit. No judgment in his tone, despite her messy behaviour and him being pissed off only seconds ago.

Spencer sighed. “Not gonna lie. A lot.”

The cool night air was a welcome sensation on her face, and Mr. Monroe’s grip on her arm made her warm and tingly.

“Enough to drunk text my profsessor…professorabout sweater vests. Which you arenotwearing. Don’t you have nighttime vests? Vest pajamas? Bedtime formal wear?” She snorted, far too pleased with herself.

A small smile crossed his face. “Actually, I sleep in the nude, so I threw on the quickest thing I could grab. You don’t approve?”

Was he flirting? “Oh, I approve.” She gave him two big thumbs-up as she stumbled into the passenger seat of his car. When had he opened the door for her? Wait. When had they gotten to his car? Did she just…double thumbs-up her hot psych professor?

Oh boy. She must’ve passed normal drunk a while ago and stumbled into trashed territory. She begged her brain not to do anything too stupid or embarrassing. Come morning, there was a good possibility she wouldn’t remember any of this.

“Are you comfortable telling me your address?”

Always so sweet, Mr. Monroe. Asking for consent to have her address. She wondered what else he would ask consent for. How sexy that would be.

“Uh, Spencer?”

Mr. Monroe was looking at her like she had three heads. Realizing she must have been sitting there daydreaming, Spencer rattled off her address, and he started toward her place.

“So…Mr. Good Butt, huh?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the road. She could see his smug expression, though. “Not the name I expect to hear one of my students calling me.”

“I mean, s’true. Even in those ter’ble pairs of corduroy pants you wear, your ass still looks great,” she countered, slurring her words only a little.

That earned her a chuckle. Turning to her, heasked, “Any other outfit choices of mine you’d like to critique? Or is it only the vests and pants?”

“No, tha’s it. But I’d love to see you without them on,” she hiccupped.

Mr. Monroe gave her a questioning look from underneath his glasses.

Her eyes went wide when she realized what she’d said. “Not like that! Just not in those clothes. You would be in different clothes. Clothed.”

“Glad we cleared that up.” He cleared his throat, probably trying to hide the amusement in his voice but failing miserably.

“Although…if you’re in different clothes, I still wouldn’t be able to see your butt. And Becca calls you Mr. Good Butt, but I’ve never seen your butt. And neither has she. So you could take off those clothes, let me see your butt, andthenput on different clothes. Everybody wins.”

“How do I win in this scenario?”

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