CHAPTER FOURTEEN

NICK WALKER ©

“How could we be so careless?” I whispered, biting my lower lip as the thought kept circling in my head.

I groaned under my breath and dropped my head onto the desk, closing my eyes for a moment.

“Nick.” Avery tapped my arm gently. I lifted my head and looked at her. “What’s the problem?” she asked.

My throat felt dry. Instead of speaking, I shifted my eyes toward the front of the class and nudged my head slightly in his direction.

Professor Grayson stood there, calm as always, lecturing the class.

Avery followed my gaze before sighing. “Oh… right,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead. “We’re in trouble for talking too freely about him.

I swallowed hard and looked down at my desk again. What if someone other than Professor Grayson heard us?

“If the manager hears about this… or Mr Kyle…” I muttered, my eyes widening as the thought hit me fully.

I pressed my lips together, biting down harder until I tasted something metallic.

Then it hit me.

What if he thought I described that moment in detail?

“Nick.” Avery called again, and I finally looked up. The moment I raised my head, I noticed it. I felt the whole class staring at me.

“Mr. Walker,” Professor Grayson said, his voice sharp. “Care to tell us what was so important that you couldn’t hear your name several times?”

Fear rushed through me at once.

“I'm… I’m sorry, sir,” I said quickly, lowering my head.

He kept staring at me with that cold expression.

“If your mind is somewhere else, Mr. Walker, then maybe you should leave my class instead of wasting your time here.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” I repeated, feeling embarrassed.

Quiet laughter spread across the room. I wanted the ground to open and swallow me whole.

Professor Grayson rolled his eyes before turning back to the board and continuing the lecture.

About an hour later, the class ended and he walked out without sparing me another glance.

I packed my things slowly and left the hall with a heavy sigh.

“Why is it always me?” I muttered sadly. “I can't believe he embarrassed me in front of everyone. I know he doesn’t like me, but did he really have to do that?”

“Maybe he’s still annoyed about what happened this morning,” Avery said as she patted my back.

I groaned softly.

“Come on,” she said, pulling my arm. “We’re going to be late for the next class.”

∆∆

~ FIVE STAR CLUB AND BAR ~

Low voices filled the bar as everyone talked among themselves. I stayed behind the bar, pouring drinks, when one of the workers walked up to me.

“Hey, Nick,” he called. “That man over there keeps asking for you to serve his drink. Are you okay with that, or should I try talking to him again?”

I looked past him to see who he was talking about, and my eyes widened a little. It was the same man from before, the one who had smashed Grayson’s car windshield.

“I’ll serve him then. I’ll be back.” I replied softly.

I grabbed the bottle and walked over to his table.

“It's great seeing you again. Come, sit down,” he said, motioning to the chair in front of him, but I quickly shook my head.

“I’d rather stand. Let me pour your drink for you, sir.”

“Then drink with me,” he said with a tired sigh. “I need someone to talk to.”

“I don’t drink,” I replied politely. “But I can listen.”

“That won’t be fun,” he said. “Come on, you’re already eighteen, aren’t you?”

I smiled awkwardly and shook my head again. He let out a frustrated sigh before suddenly grabbing my arm and pulling me closer.

“Just one drink,” he insisted.

I tried to pull my hand free from his grip, but before I could, someone stepped beside us and roughly twisted the man’s wrist.

Grayson.

“What are you doing? Let go of my hand,” the man snapped in pain.

Without even looking bothered, Grayson picked up the drink on the table and finished the alcohol in one gulp.

“If you can’t respect his space, then I’d rather have him serve me instead.” he said calmly.

He twisted the man’s wrist harder. “Was breaking my windshield not enough for you, or do you simply enjoy causing trouble?”

“Damn it!” the man groaned loudly before finally letting go of my arm. “He works in a place like this. What did he expect?”

Grayson slowly let go of the man’s hand and walked away.

I stayed rooted to the spot, too stunned to move.

Since when has Professor Grayson been here? I never even noticed him while working behind the bar.

I lowered my head and returned to the counter, only to find Grayson already seated right in front of it.

“Aren’t you going to serve me?” he asked.

For a second, I thought he had only stepped in earlier to help me out.

“Uh… what would you like to drink?” I asked softly.

“Whiskey.”

I nodded and reached for a clean glass. His eyes stayed on me as I wiped the glass and opened the bottle. I avoided looking at him while I poured the drink and passed it to him.

The events from this morning kept replaying in my head, making me even more nervous.

I stole a few quick glances at him, wondering if I should bring it up or just stay quiet.

“Mind telling me why you keep staring at me?” he asked before taking a sip of his drink.

“Professor…”

“Enzo,” he cut in calmly.

“Huh?” I looked at him in confusion.

“Call me Enzo,” he said.

I stared at him in shock.

He wanted me to call him by his actual name?

“I… I can’t. I don’t think I can do that,” I stammered awkwardly.

“You can call me Enzo when we’re outside college,” he replied calmly as he pushed his empty glass toward me. “Right now, you’re a bartender, and I’m your customer.”

“What were you trying to say earlier?” he asked.

I had completely forgotten about the apology I wanted to make.

“I’m sorry about what happened today, Profes… ” I stopped when I saw him frown. “I mean… Enzo.”

“Today?” he asked calmly. “What happened today?”

“Oh,” he said with a small nod. “The bus incident.”

Did he seriously forget about it that easily?

“Right,” he continued. “You told your friend that I swing both ways. Do you usually talk to her about everything that happens here?”

My eyes widened, and I quickly shook my head.

“No! That’s not true. And I didn’t even go into detail about you sleeping with men,” I rushed out nervously.

His brows lifted slightly. “You saw me sleeping with a man?”

The second the words left his mouth, I realized how terrible I had sounded.

“Crap… no, that’s not what I meant,” I stammered. “I mean… uh…”

A quiet chuckle escaped him. He rested his elbow on the counter and leaned against his palm while watching me struggle for words.

I avoided his gaze and reached for the bottle again to refill his drink, but he pulled the glass back slightly.

“Leave the counter and come over to my side,” he said.

I froze for a second. Then I looked at him. He didn’t look like he was joking.

I glanced around the bar. The colleague with me just stared at us. He quickly looked away when I caught him.

Slowly, I stepped out from behind the counter and walked over to him, unsure why he wanted me there.

“I heard you say I’m everyone’s type,” he said, passing me his glass.

I took it and poured more whiskey.

“Well… that’s kind of true,” I answered carefully.

He gave a small nod. “Then how come I'm not yours?

I looked up at him, surprised.

That question felt too direct.

“Because… I’m not into men,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t react much. Just a calm look. “Fair point,” he said.

Then he tilted his head slightly. “Or you just haven’t tried men out?”

My heart jumped a little. My mouth opened, but no words came out.

Before I could think, he stood up. I stepped back far, he moved closer. I instinctively shifted away, but his hand caught my wrist and pulled me back just enough that I stopped.

He leaned in.

For a second, I couldn’t move.

“Seems like you haven’t tried one,” he said softly then, brushed past my ear and walked away.

Something cold and quick touched my earlobe.

My brain refused to process it at first before it hit me.

Did he just… kiss my ear?