Page 31 of Forbidden

“Want another?” I ask, slipping off the stool and raising my glass in question.

She shrugs, eyeing her almost empty glass. “Sure. One more can’t hurt.”

Leaning against the bar, waiting to be served, I have to admit I’m surprised. Joy Blake could go all the way. She’s a rare talent. But if your heart’s not in it, there’s no point. And it’s impossible to miss how much she loves music. Thinking about her on the decks makes me think of clubs which makes me groan internally.

I can’t believe I forgot. I can’t believe I kissed a student.‘It’s not like it was one sided’.My breath leaves me in a rush. It’s flattering to know she wanted me, but she’s still a student.Not that it’s been stopping me recently. It doesn’t matter that she’s gorgeous, funny, and talented . . . No.Bad, Doug.I wish I could remember that night. What’s worse is I do remember the feeling. A warm happiness mixed with arousal. It’s a feeling I haven’t felt since Aldo. My mood instantly dips, and by the time I make it back to our table, any lightness I was feeling is a distant memory.

JOY

“What happened?” I ask, glancing over at the bar as though there might be a clue there as to where Coach—Doug’s—good mood disappeared to.

He slides onto his stool, pushing one of the glasses of wine toward me. “Nothing. I just remembered something.”

“Not our kiss, I hope,” I joke.

He gives me a half smile. “No.”

I know I shouldn’t press the matter, but I’m honestly curious. He wouldn’t talk about it at the club, but he doesn’t remember, so surely, it’s worth asking again . . .

“Is it Lane?”

This time, he laughs. “Shockingly, no. Lame is not always the cause of my bad mood.”

I almost snort the sip of wine out of my nose, and I cover my mouth with my hand. “Did you just call him,Lame? What are you? Seven?”

Doug’s grin is so boyish, it’s easy to forget he’s almost a decade older than me. The thought sends a weird thrill through me. When I met Lane, Doug was already halfway through college.

“I can’t help it,” Doug admits. “He brings out this petty, childish side of me. I hate it, but I just can’t stop.”

My lips press together. Before Lane’s big confession, I’d probably have joined in for a good old fashioned bitching session. But now it feels wrong.

“Do you know why he was hired?” I ask.

Doug shakes his head. “That’s what I’m so pissed off about. I’m doing a good job at Franklin West. We win. A lot. It’s not like I was failing. I don’t understand why President West feels I need the help. And to do it without speaking to me? It was a seriously low blow.”

My eyes widen. No wonder he’d seemed so unhinged when Lane first showed up. “Do you think it’s the rumors?”

“Rumors?” he asks. “What? That I’m a fuckboy who can’t keep it in his pants?”

My skin heats and I try to shrug nonchalantly. “Yeah.”

“It’s all bollocks,” he says. “Yeah, I fuck around, but not with students.”

Silence falls between us and he groans. “Not usually with students.”

I can’t help but smile. “I don’t think what we did counts as ‘fucking around’, if that helps.”

Doug looks at me, amusement dancing in his gray eyes. “Oh? Because I was so drunk. Trust me, if I hadn’t been wasted, you’d have been in for the night of your life.”

I chuckle, even as my skin heats and warmth tingles between my thighs. “Oh, really?”

“Oh, definitely,” he says, winking at me over his glass of wine. “You should see my reviews on Yelp.”

My laughter catches me by surprise and the delight on Doug’s face makes it so much sweeter.

“You know, I always had you pegged as grumpy,” I admit. “But you’re not really, are you?”

“Grumpy? No,” he says. “I’m just British.”

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