Bad Professor (An Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (113 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Kya

I
unwrapped the black dress, fresh from the cleaners. I thought about wearing the
purple dress, but Jackson McRay seemed like a traditional man, even in Las
Vegas. I had spent the afternoon cyber-stalking him and had not once seen a
picture of him with a sequined or tube top sporting woman. He was rarely
photographed with women and only with decent, conservative women from prominent
families. I was suddenly feeling a lot of pressure.

The way Fenton
Morris had attracted paparazzi to the Tropicana, it was guaranteed someone
would get a picture of Jackson McRay on a date the night before his big
tournament. All I could think about was measuring up to the elegant women with
their perfect lineages that he was normally with when photographed. I had my
reputation, but it was nothing worthy of a caption.

I clasped my
pearls around my neck and checked the perfect bun I had twisted into my hair. I
did not smile into the mirror. That made me pause. The real reason was not the
worries about being captured by paparazzi. I was not even nervous about going
on a first date. The only problem was I was not excited to be going out with
Jackson McRay. And, it had nothing to do with him.

I had not seen
Fenton all afternoon. Just as I took out my phone and considered sending him a
message, I heard voices in the other room. The overlapping peals of female
laughter made me wish I could stay in the master bedroom and barricade the
door, but I had to go and meet Jackson in the lobby. I pushed the door open and
went to see who Fenton had invited back to the suite now.

The stripper,
wait, exotic dancer named Dana Maria was there with five of her friends. They
obviously knew each other from work and had come to party before their shifts.
Two ransacked the kitchen for glasses while the others staked out spots on the
white sofas and opened wine bottles. I cringed at all the red wine I saw.

"What you
looking at, Miss Priss?" one wildly redheaded woman asked.

"I was just
looking for Fenton," I said.

"I bet you
were, Dana says he's got all sorts of groupies just offering it up wherever he
goes. You one of those fight groupies, honey?" the redhead asked.

"Look at
her," a woman decked out in leopard print said. "Her life's probably
all picket fences and book groups. She needs it from him bad."

"Fenton is
not here," Dana Maria said.

She got up and
threaded her way past her friends’ spiked heels around the coffee table towards
me. I could tell she wanted to say more, but I could not handle the way her
friends talked about me as if I was not there.

"Perfect
little black dress and white shiny pearls. Don't let her fool you, she
nasty," the redhead said.

"Stop,
Jewels," Dana Maria said.

She took a step
toward me, but I spun and marched out the door of the suite. I breathed a sigh
of relief when the elevator opened at my touch. I could not run down the stairs
to the next floor in my heels. I had no idea how those women walked in their
shoes, much less danced.

By the time my
taxi dropped me at the restaurant, I realized I had been chased out of my own
suite. I was very early and had no choice but to go sit at the bar by myself. I
sipped at the water with a twist of lime the unimpressed bartender gave me and
tried not to think about Fenton.

Seeing all of the
women lounging around the suite should have twisted the knife in deeper – no,
it should have cut him out of my system once and for all. I shook my head and
told myself to stop acting crazy. Here I was waiting at an elegant restaurant
for my charming date and I was fixated on Fenton Morris. I checked my watch and
slid off my stool. The only way to get him out of my mind was to confront him.
I had not gotten where I was in my career by running away from confrontation. I
needed to see Fenton face to face and find out what had happened between us.

"There you are,
I'm sorry if I'm late," Jackson said. He appeared behind me with a single
white rose. "I got you a thank you present."

I took the rose
and eyed the small box tied with a bow. "A thank you present? For
what?"

"The
endorsement deal just cleared with my lawyers. Now, I know you were telling the
truth. It's a solid deal, and I signed the papers this afternoon."

"Then, it’s
me that should be getting you the thank you present," I slipped back onto
my stool and untied the gold bow. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing out
loud. "A set of golf gloves embroidered with pink flamingos. You shouldn't
have!"

"Just a
reminder of your victory on the mini-golf course. If I hadn't missed that
flamingo hole, I would have beaten you," he told me.

"Well,
there's always tomorrow. Or are you busy?" I asked.

He tugged me off
the stool, took my arm, and wrapped it around his. "Oh, that's right, the
big golf tournament. According to my coach, I have a curfew tonight. For you, I
think I might make an exception."

No sooner had we
been seated than I felt Jackson's palm slide up my knee and rest on my thigh.
He winked and gave my leg a squeeze as the waiter appeared. Jackson ordered for
me again and as soon as the waiter retreated his fingers began lazy circles
that dipped down to my inner thigh.

I shifted in my
seat. "Early curfew, it is, then. I don't want to get my new client in
trouble with his coach," I said.

"I'm not your
client tonight and don't worry about the curfew, unless you want to skip dinner
and just head back to my room right now," he said. He pulled my leg over
to his and my stomach lurched.

He was handsome,
charming, successful, and had a sterling reputation, but I suddenly wished I
was anywhere else but at our table. I had to figure out a way to let him down
easy and escape without compromising the endorsement deal. I had dealt with
rejecting clients before and their egos were unpredictable.

That was why I
felt a wave of relief when I first spotted Fenton weaving his way to the front
door of the restaurant. He immediately had words with the doorman, standing toe
to toe with him, his chin jutting out at a dangerous angle.

"Oh,
no," I said, pointing to Fenton. "Looks like someone never should
have left his room."

An ugly scowl
covered Jackson's face, until he realized I was looking at him. "The
pressure gets to some athletes. He lost a few days ago, and now he's facing a
harder opponent. I wouldn't be surprised if he flamed out completely now."

I wanted to tell
Jackson that Fenton was the last person I could imagine crashing and burning,
but before I could defend him, Fenton shoved the doorman back and started
yelling. His words were slurred and the crowded sidewalk gave him a wide berth.
He noticed the space and turned in a slow circle, as if he had forgotten where
he was. Then he looked up, saw the restaurant sign, and nodded to himself.

What had looked a
moment ago like a coincidence created by the universe to help me choose
Jackson, now looked like Fenton was moving with purpose. Had he followed me to
the restaurant? Did he know I had a date?

Fenton marched
right up to our table, cementing the fact that he had come there specifically
to ruin my evening. He snatched up the wine the waiter had just poured me and
spun it wildly in the glass.

"An expensive
vintage, no doubt," Fenton said. He stuck his nose in the air and did his
best to appear like a snobbish man wearing a monocle and suspenders.
"Though I do believe you could find a better pairing."

"You're
drunk, Mr. Morris, and not making any sense," Jackson said.

"Then, let me
be clear. The lady can do a lot better than you."

"The lady can
speak for herself," I said. "Where are your friends, Fenton? There
was quite a party looking for you earlier. A bunch of dancers wanting to take
you out dancing."

"Friends?
Those are my sister's friends," Fenton said. His blue eyes crashed into
mine. He reached out and grabbed a handful from the salad the waiter had only
moments ago slid into place. "Ugh, bitter and too lemony. Let me guess,
the lady that can speak for herself let this joker order for her?"

"This joker
is asking you to leave," Jackson said. He stood up and flagged down the
maitre d' and security.

"Come on,
Kya, you're an order-for-yourself kind of a girl. You're not all of this. And,
you certainly don't want to be with him," Fenton said.

The whole
restaurant was looking. My cheeks were bright red flames, but I kept my voice
steady. "What did you mean those were your sister's friends?"

"So, you
really didn't know?" Fenton asked.

"Sir, come
with me," the security guard interrupted, latching a large hand on
Fenton's arm.

Fenton yanked his
arm free easily and turned back to me. This time, the security guard grabbed
both his biceps and tried to turn him towards the door. I stood up to stop him,
I needed to hear what Fenton had to say, but Jackson shielded me from the scene
with one long arm.

"Don't worry
about Mr. Morris, Kya. He was just leaving," Jackson said. "Maybe you
should have taken me up on my earlier offer of room service."

"Sure,
golfer, let security take care of your dirty work while you try to work your
game on her," Fenton said. "I should have known you wouldn't stand up
to me yourself."

Jackson's jaw
clenched. "Don't listen to him, Kya. He's drunk and doesn't know what he's
saying."

"Oh, so know
you're telling her what to listen to and what to think?" Fenton asked.
"How about she hears a story about this woman I once knew. I knew this
woman who slipped into an underground bare-knuckle boxing match. And instead of
getting scared and trying to get out, instead of freezing up and waiting for
someone to help her, she was just fine."

"Come on,
Kya, let me take you back to my hotel. We can get a bite to eat in peace
there," Jackson said.

He nodded to the
security guard, who wrapped his arms around Fenton's chest from behind and
tried to haul him out of the restaurant. Fenton broke free of the larger man's
hold in one move and spun to face him. I heard a sharp gasp before Fenton threw
the first punch, and then realized it was me that had made the sound.

The fight slammed
into a nearby table and the restaurant erupted as people fled their expensive
dinners. The security guard was almost twice Fenton's size, the shape and bulk
of a retired football player. He lunged at Fenton, who spun aside and chopped
him on the back of the neck. The guard stumbled. Despite his obvious
intoxication, Fenton was in control of the fight, until the guard turned around
a brandished a Taser.

He aimed at
Fenton, and I jumped forward to stop him. Jackson wrapped an arm around my
waist to lift me back. I thrashed against him, trying to kick the weapon out of
the guard's hand. A camera flash dazed us all and afterwards, Fenton stepped
back and raised his hands. He turned and walked out of the restaurant unharmed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Kya

I
curled up in the corner of the white sofa and tried to ignore the red wine
stains on the rug. Luckily, there was no sign of Dana Maria or any of her
friends besides the smears of body glitter and red spills they had left behind.
The plate of French fries I had ordered from room service sat untouched in
front of me. I was frozen in horror, my eyes locked to the screen of my laptop.

The photograph had
gone viral within seconds of Fenton leaving the restaurant. The snapshot showed
the angry security guard aiming the Taser at Fenton, Fenton facing him with
fists raised, Jackson trying to pull me out of danger, and me kicking my black
heels at the security guard. The savage look on my face held me captivated.

"In a strange
turn of the tables, admirer Kya Allen tries to defend the top ranked MMA
fighter Fenton Morris from a threatened security guard while nice-guy Jackson
McRay tries to save her from getting Tasered, too."

The story was all
over social media. Speculation was rampant about my relationship to Fenton as
well as his reason for crashing my date with Jackson. It was a drama-filled
love triangle we had served up to the paparazzi on a silver platter. Everyone
pointed out the picture said it all– Fenton's blue eyes on me instead of the
imminent threat of the Taser and me fighting off the most eligible bachelor
gentleman to come to the rescue of the infamous womanizer.

I shifted my study
of the photograph to Fenton and could not ignore the flutter of excitement in
my stomach. He had come to the restaurant specifically to disrupt my date with
Jackson. A man did not do something like that if he did not care about the
woman. Cell phone footage was staring to roll out of Fenton telling me
"You certainly don't want to be with him."

I had not denied
it, but then again I had not been given much of a chance to speak. And, I had
not figured out what Fenton meant about his sister's friends.

I sprang off the
couch and went to open my own bottle of red wine. Luckily, the dancers had not
raided the wine refrigerator and I did not care what vintage I was drinking.
Had Fenton just done it for the publicity?

An official
statement had been issued by the MMA putting Fenton on probation. There was no
way he had pulled the stunt at the restaurant to further his career.

I glanced at the
door to Fenton's room before I returned to the sofa. He had beaten me back to
the suite and was passed out cold when I arrived. Somehow, I was sure he
already knew about the probation. For all his wild acting, Fenton was a
professional. That is why he raised his hands and left the restaurant before
things went any farther.

My phone rang and
I picked it up. "Go ahead and give me the lecture, boss. I deserve it. Our
clients get the headlines, not us."

"Lecture you?
Honey baby, if I was there I would kiss you!" James crowed. "The
publicity is through the roof! The vitamin people are so impressed with the
stir you've created that they've sweetened the deal."

"Are you
serious? I thought the whole thing was shot and you're telling me it’s better
than ever?" I asked.

"Shh, pretend
like you meant all of this to happen. Pretend you did it all on purpose. I've
been telling everyone you are my protégé and that I taught you everything you
know. Don't make me look bad now, baby," James said.

"Because only
you would start a fight in a restaurant and almost get your star athlete
Tasered in order to boost his publicity and get more money for the endorsement
deal," I said.

"Exactly.
Keep up the good work, gorgeous!"

My boss hung up
the phone and I closed my eyes. None of this was actually happening. I prayed I
would wake up with a bad hangover only to find it was my first night in Vegas.
Then, Fenton would be next to me and we would have a chance to start over.

The knock at the
door made me jump a foot into the air. I smoothed down the black dress I still
wore and steeled myself to greet the stripper, Dana Maria, and her friends.
Instead, my jaw hit the floor when Jackson slipped into the suite and grabbed
my hand.

"I had to
come by and see how you are," he said. He kissed the back of my hand and
then handed a box of chocolate-covered strawberries. He then produced a bottle
of champagne and two flutes from his pockets. "I hear they go well with
champagne and I know you like that, so here I am. I figured dinner got screwed
up, so why not skip to dessert."

I opened my mouth,
but no sound came out. How could I explain to him that Fenton was asleep in the
next room? I had to tell him and try to make him believe it was strictly work
before Fenton appeared and things got even stranger than earlier.

Jackson pressed a
finger to my lips. "You don't have to say anything. I know you were
pursuing Fenton for work. None of what happened tonight was your fault. You had
no idea the guy would get crazy possessive of you and stalk you around Las
Vegas."

He pulled me over
to the couch and unwrapped the champagne bottle. The pop of the cork made me
wince and when I opened one eye, I immediately looked at Fenton's door.
"Jackson, there is something I have to tell you," I said.

"I'm telling
you, Kya, there is no need to apologize. All I ask is that you taste one of
these strawberries and have a sip of champagne. I hear it is the perfect
combination," he said.

He lifted a
strawberry to my mouth and I was forced to take a bite. Then, he handed me a
champagne flute. I tried not to gulp it down and let the sweet oblivion help me
escape my awkward reality.

"Delicious
right?"

"Now, please,
Jackson, I have to tell you something about Fenton," I said.

"No, don't
worry. All I'm interested in is us," Jackson said. He leaned in and
dropped a sweet kiss onto my still fizzy lips.

"It looks
like all you're interested in is dying," Fenton interrupted. He stumbled against
the doorframe of his bedroom. "Stand up, McRay, there's no armed security
guard to do your dirty work for you this time."

"What the
f?" Jackson said. "He's staying here? You've got to be kidding me.
What does it take to get a minute alone with you?"

"I'm sorry,
Jackson. My company put us up here in the hopes of convincing him to take the
deal," I said.

"Come on,
sweetheart, don't lie to the poor man," Fenton said. He gave me a wicked
wink. "The suite was your idea, and it has been a sweet deal for both of
us."

Jackson jumped up
from the couch and squared off in front of Fenton. I was shocked that Jackson
would willingly fight Fenton when I saw Fenton's eyes glaze over and his body
sway.

"Stop it
right now, both of you. Fenton, you're drunk, and, Jackson, you know he's in no
shape to fight you or anybody," I said.

"He's been
asking for a fight since the first night we met. You just strolled up and
pulled her away from me. I bet you're not even really interested in her; you
just want to mess with me. I know your type, always trying to get revenge on
people who are better than you," Jackson said.

"That's
enough." I pointed to the door. "He's not out to get you, this has
nothing to do with you. And, it has nothing to do with me, either. Fenton's
just making sure he keeps up his reputation, you know, the lone wolf that
doesn't need anyone. You need to leave; you need to go pass out.
Goodnight."

I put my hands on
my hips and waited. Jackson glowered at Fenton. I was surprised when his look
extended to me and felt relieved when he finally turned and headed out the
door.

"Kya, I gotta
tell you, I gotta say… I'm going to be sick," Fenton said. He rushed into
his room and dove into the bathroom.

I cringed at the
sounds I heard, but could not in good conscience retreat to my room and shut
the door. Instead, I grabbed a large bottle of water from the refrigerator,
found a bottle of aspirin, and followed him in.

"Are you
alright? How much did you have to drink?" I asked.

Fenton shook his
head slowly, "I'm fine. Just mixed my liquors. Should have stayed passed
out."

"Why? Why did
you decide to do this?" I asked.

He pushed past me
and flopped into his bed. I pulled off his shoes and untangled his legs from
the sheet. He took the bottle of water and drank a small sip.

I thought he had
passed out again when he laid a hand on my wrist. "I was mad at you,"
he said.

I turned my hand
over and squeezed his fingers. "I was mad at you, too, but I didn't get
blind drunk."

"No, you
left," he said.

The way he said it
twisted my heart as if I had done something unforgivable. "I didn't leave.
I got out of your way. You had a guest, remember?"

"So, you went
off and picked up that pretty boy golfer?" he asked. "You trying to
make me jealous?"

"Jealous? I'm
not the one crashing dates around here," I said.

He smirked even as
his eyes drifted closed. "You know you don't have anything to be jealous
about. You just wanted me, I just wanted you."

I fought the urge
to brush back his thick black hair. Fenton eased farther back against the pillows
and flinched.

"Here, take
some aspirin. You're going to need a clear head when you see the photograph of
all of us," I said.

"One big
happy family?" he asked.

"One big
pissed off security guard," I said. "And, it's all over social
media."

"Don't care about
that," he muttered. "Just know I've seen guys like Jackson before. He
looks good, but he's rotten. He only wants one thing."

"To ruin your
career?" I asked. "Oh, wait, that's you."

Fenton opened his
eyes. "Let me guess, I'm on probation."

"Did you do
it on purpose?" I was not sure I wanted to know the answer, but I could
not help but ask.

He shook his head.
His eyes never leaving mine. "Why are you still here, Kya?"

I set the aspirin
down on the bedside table and avoided his look. "The probation is nothing.
All you have to do is lay low until your next fight and everything will be
fine."

"Seriously.
Why are you still here?"

I looked at Fenton
again and could not tell what he was feeling. It was impossible to know if he
was pushing me, mocking me, or protecting himself. No matter what way, I was
not up to the challenge. Fenton could hurt me too much, I already knew that.

"I heard from
my boss and he says the vitamin people are even more interested now that you've
gone viral," I said. "The deal is even better than it was and I have
to make sure you consider it."

"That's it?
Just doing your job?"

"It’s too
good to pass up," I said. The deal was so good that it was worth wrecking
the scraps of goodwill we had managed to pull back together. He deserved to hear
about it, no matter what it did to us.

"Get
out." Fenton turned off the light and rolled away from me. I got up and
finally retreated across the suite to my own bedroom.

Don't
be a fool, there is no us,
I reminded myself.