Page 37 of Dear Mr. Brody

Dinner with a friend.

I had no claim on him, no right to feel possessive. James was free to have dinner with whomever the hell he wanted. And wasn’t I literally just crushing on my professor. But the idea of someone else getting to spend one-on-one time with him made me realize how much I wanted that too. I wanted more than a quick release, more than dirty talk in the dark cover of night. I wanted to know him, to touch his actual skin. A shadowy shot of his come covered abs wasn’t enough for me. His middle name wasn’t enough. I wanted first names and real lips. Fingers and hot hands. I wanted more than his favorite color. I wanted history and details, to know what he looked like when he smiled. It had only been a week, but I was ready to meet in person, and hell, I hoped he was too.

@TheL0stB0y:Text me when you get home. There’s been a change in my lesson plan.

“Oh my God, you’re not even listening to me.” Marcos’ sharp elbow dug into my rib cage.

“Ow, what the fuck?” I hissed under my breath, and he snickered. “Glad you think it’s funny I might have a cracked rib.”

“And I’m supposed to be the drama queen.” He rolled his eyes as I rubbed my side. “Tam and a couple of friends from work want to go out for drinks tonight. Do you think you could pry yourself from your precious phone for a few hours?”

“I can’t tonight.”

“It’s your birthday.”

“Exactly, it’smyday, and I don’t feel like getting wasted.”

“Why? Got a hot date with your hand again?” he asked, and if we weren’t in a classroom filled with people, I might’ve tackled his smug, smiling ass. “Don’t look at me like that,mijo. It’s not my fault the walls in our apartment are thin.”

“I have homework, dipshit.” Irritated by how close he’d come to the truth, I flipped my hat backward on my head, keeping my eyes trained toward the front of the class.

“Oh… I didn’t get the memo. We’re calling it homework now?” He dropped his voice as Mr. Brody called the class to attention. “Okay then, I have homework, too, but I’ll do mine in the shower before I head out for drinks.”

I raised my fist to my mouth to cover my laugh. Only Marcos could have me pissed one second and laughing the next.

“Pay attention,” I said. “You might learn something.”

Marcos hummed under his breath but kept his comments and attitude to himself.

“I have exciting news,” Mr. Brody said as he walked over to his desk and held up a book for the class to see. It was a copy ofThe Street Vendor’s Son,by Wilder Welles.“We have a special guest speaker coming today, he’s running late, but should be here soon.”

“Holy fuck,” I whispered. “Remember that author from the club the other night?”

“Yeah.” Marcos couldn’t have looked less enthused.

“That’s the guest speaker.”

“I should have skipped class.”

“You could always leave.”

“I think I’ll stay. Watching you fan girl should be interesting.” An evil glint flickered in his eyes. “I promise not to embarrass you too much.”

“Marcos, I swear you better—”

The classroom door opened, and I forgot what I was about to say as Wilder fucking Welles strolled past me. Mr. Brody smiled at him as he made his way down the aisle to the front of the room.

“I’m sorry I’m so late.” Wilder huffed, as he set his bag on Mr. Brody’s desk. “I had to drop Sam with Jax.”

“Not a problem. I’m glad you could make it.” Mr. Brody gave him a few seconds to settle in before he introduced him. “Class, I’d like you to give Mr. Welles a warm welcome. He’s taken time out of his busy writing schedule and from his family to be here this evening.”

Wilder’s face turned beet red as he swallowed and gave a reluctant wave. “Thank you.”

“Mr. Welles is a—”

“Christ, Van. Call me Wilder. I’m not that old yet.”

Marcos quietly laughed as he leaned toward me. “I don’t care if he kicks you out of this class, I dare you to call him Van.” I shook my head and strained to hear Mr. Brody. “Just once, it’s all I’m asking.”

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