Page 3 of Smolder

She hadn’t wanted to live with an old man, Grams explained, but she tried for me. Dad wasn’t easy to deal with. She hadn’t put up with him for very long, but it was probably best she’d left when she did. That way, I had no memories of her and no attachment.

“Yeah,” I told him. “Why don’t you stay home tonight? I’ll bring back dinner.”

He looked at his mother, then back at me. “I’ll go if and when I want to.”

Which was every night.

“Fine. When I get a call to come get you, I’ll ignore it. You can sleep on the floor of the bar—or behind bars. AND pay your own tab.”

He scowled at me. “I thought you had to go to a fucking class. Why are you still here, jabbering on?”

“Good point,” I replied, then looked down at Grams, who was staring out the window again. “I’ll see you this evening. Maybe I can get some more of that chicken and dumplings you love, along with the collards and mac and cheese.”

She nodded, but said nothing. Dad often put her in this mood. Maybe I should have just let her live in her memories this morning. The present upset her too much.

“I’ll go get ready. Make her some toast since you’re up and have nothing else to do,” I said as I walked past him, heading toward the bedroom I shared with Grams.

“Thought you was gonna do that?” he barked at me, annoyed.

“I gotta get to class, remember?” I replied with a grin.

It was almost eight, and I needed to make a couple of stops before my Modern Literature class. Essays were due today, and Professor Brereton was too sharp. I didn’t drop off any assignments on campus. Not with his class at least.

Opening the closet, I took down the box I kept on the top shelf. Keeping things out of Grams’s reach was something I’d found was a necessity. She would move things around and misplace them. I took the lid off the box and counted out the three essays inside. Two of them would pull a solid A while one would be a mid B. I respected a guy who understood his limits. The B paper was smart. Professor Brereton would never believe Drace, a party focused frat guy, had written one of the A papers.

I closed the box and shoved it back up on the shelf, covering it with a pair of my folded jeans, then put the papers in my bag before getting dressed. I was enjoying this class. More than the others I was attending this quarter. Since I wasn’t actually enrolled at Howison College, this was the next best thing. I got to do the essays and make money. I didn’t always enjoy the classes or the papers that I had to write for others. But most of the time, I was thankful for the education.

The rich kids, whose parents could afford to send them to the private college, were more interested in Greek life, parties, social events. They didn’t care for the actual work that went along with passing their courses. Lucky for them, there was me. I made sure America’s future politicians, lawyers, CEOs and socialites at Howison graduated on schedule. It wasn’t like the government and economy could get any worse.

•Two •

“I even added a tip for such an entertaining performance.”

Sebastian

I picked up the beer the bartender had set in front of me without taking my eyes off the pool table. It was too damn entertaining.

I’d been annoyed that my dad had sent me here with King and Storm to handle something so simple. I was positive he could have sent my brother to do this alone. The fucker we were coming to collect from wasn’t a big enough threat for all three of us.

But the complete stunner, who I was positive was hustling the two men she was playing a game of pool with, had me transfixed. I mean, I got how they’d be distracted by her looks, but, damn, they had to also be a touch stupid. She was really fucking good at this—I’d give her that. Batting her dark lashes and gazing at them with those ice-blue eyes, rimmed with slate outer rings, was powerful. My damn dick was affected way over here.

It could also be the pouty lips, which weren’t painted, the color natural with a slight shimmer of gloss. My gaze kept zoning in on them—when I wasn’t appreciating her above-average presentation. Seemed I must be the only one in here who was paying attention to this.

“You stare any harder, and you’re gonna mess up her game,” Storm drawled beside me.

I tore my eyes off her briefly to look at him. He was drinking from his glass of whiskey with a smirk on his face.

“You see it too then?” I asked him.

He shifted his eyes to me. “What? See the blonde who’s taking those two morons to the cleaners? Yeah, I see it.”

My gaze swung back to her as she bit her bottom lip and laughed. Fuck, that was a nice sound. There was a sultry lilt to it that made a man want to get closer and soak it up.

“She’s about to turn it,” Storm said with a low chuckle. “Briar would fucking love to watch this.”

Briar was his fiancée, and if any woman respected a hustle, she did.

“OH!” the bigger of the two men said when she sank the ball.

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