Bad Professor (An Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (133 page)

BOOK: Bad Professor (An Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance)
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CHAPTER
SEVEN

Owen

 

It was hard to
keep my mind on the game. Quinn bit her lip every time she tried a new sequence
on the controller. It was adorable. No, that was not the right word for it.
Seeing her strawberry lips bitten brighter was too delicious. Then they parted
in a breathless little victory laugh every time the move worked. It made it
impossible to keep my eyes on the screen.

"So, let me
guess, you were just running around
Dark
Flag
kicking butt and taking names when your phone rang," Quinn said.

"What?"
I blinked and looked back at our avatars. We were on the crest above the Black
Fields and my clan was starting to gather.

"When someone
called and offered to sponsor your playing," she said. "Were you just
sitting around in your boxer briefs playing at noon on Tuesday?"

"Stop talking
about my underwear," I said. "I play fully dressed. What have I told
you about gamer stereotypes?"

"That's not a
gamer stereotype, it’s a guy thing. I know you all take your pants off the
first chance you get." She nudged me with her elbow and laughed.

I could not tell
her it was her pants I wanted to take off. "Are you asking me how I got my
job?"

"Yes. Did
someone just notice you were the rock star of online games and track you
down?"

"No. It takes
a little more than that," I said. "I know it’s hard to believe, but
this is a real profession. I started off as a Beta Tester for a gaming company.
Before that, I got all kinds of experience writing code. It’s taken years to
get where I am."

"When did you
learn to write code?"

"In high
school. My part time job was to write the code for games other people were
creating. It’s why I started to play video games so much," I said.

Quinn flipped back
her wavy chestnut hair. "What's Beta testing?"

"It’s when a
game is nearly finished. The creators need people to actually play it. Players
uncover all the inconsistencies and bugs. Then, the creators go back and fix it
all before wide release," I said.

"Is that why
you know so much about
Dark Flag
?"
Quinn bit her lip again as she tried a new spell.

"No," I
said, forcing my eyes to stay on the screen. "I'm just really good."

Quinn paused her
avatar, whose heaving breasts and skin-tight suit were not helping me at all.
"So you didn't do any Beta testing on
Dark
Flag
, you just picked it up and became the all-conquering Light
Slayer?"

"Yes. And
before you ask, I had the sponsorships beforehand."

"Wow. So you
really are that good," she said.

I reactivated her
avatar and kept playing. "You'll figure it out too. I mean, you've only
been playing for a few days and you can keep up with me. I'm thinking you could
be a good protégé."

Quinn bounced
forward on the leather sofa. "God, how great would that be? I really want
something I can just throw my whole self into, you know? That's what's so hard
about the nursing program. Everywhere all around me, classmates are doing
exactly what they always wanted to do. And every day, I'm wondering why I don't
feel the same way too."

"But you feel
that way playing
Dark Flag
?"

"Yeah, I
know. It’s corny and I'm sure it just seems like a convenient escape."

"No," I
said, squeezing her knee. "As long as you want to really learn about all
of it and not just play for fun."

"Show
me," Quinn said.

I gripped my
controller. It had been days, no, years since I saw Quinn look so inspired. She
had been dutiful, responsible, and practical. But none of those things lit her
from within like she was now. The fact that doing what I loved had the same
effect on her was too good to be true. My blood was pumping.

I brought up two
hidden menus that showed some of the master commands. "Knowing how to find
things like this is part of my super power," I said.

"All those
years of Beta testing paying off, huh?" Her chocolate brown eyes flew over
the new information.

"Don't worry,
it’s not completely unfair. Stuff like this is all over the internet. A few
hours of research and you could find it," I said.

"Ooo, what's
a Portal Spell?" Quinn asked. Her lithe fingers were already trying out
the sequence over the top of her controller buttons.

"It sends you
and any chosen player into a private space. A lot of people use it during
combat," I said.

"Oops,"
Quinn said.

She had
accomplished the tricky sequence and now our avatars were alone in the great
hall of an abandoned castle. Anxious messages flashed from my clan members, and
I sent them all our coded message for “stick to the plan.” While Quinn's avatar
shimmied across the wide open hall, my clan was still preparing to cross the
Black Fields and take the next stronghold.

"This is so
cool," Quinn said. "Once you get the hang of it, it can almost move
like a real person. I bet it almost feels natural to you."

"That's the
whole point," I said. It was hard to take my eyes off her now graceful
avatar, but Quinn herself was irresistible. "We've gotten to the point in
gaming when you can actually step into whole other worlds."

"And do
things you would never dream of doing in real life," Quinn said.

Her eyes were on
mine, the chocolate brown melting as I returned her look. "That's the
attraction for a lot of people."

"Not for
you?" she asked.

I put my
controller down and took her hand. "No. I spent a lot of my life setting
aside what I really wanted to do. That's over now."

Her lips only
inches from mine. I wanted to move, to kiss her, but I could not. Our eyes held
as if some greater force had paused us there.

#

I
took a deep breath.
"We should go to Vegas."

Quinn's eyes
opened wider, and I wondered what she thought I meant.

"There's a
great arcade, lots of people. A lot of people there like
Dark Flag
. You'll get good experience," I said.

She laughed and
sat back. "Sure. Sounds great. I was thinking about heading back to
school, anyway. I don't want to spend another night with my parents."

"Do you need
to call them?" I asked.

Quinn shrugged.
"They didn't notice I was gone in the first place. I'll wait for them to
call me."

We headed towards
the Vegas Strip, the lights growing brighter. Neon suddenly towered up above
us. Quinn smiled, her face raised to the multi-colored lights.

"Do you like
Vegas?" I asked. It was always a topic of discussion amongst people who
had grown up in the area. Those that hated it moved away to places like Los
Angeles.

"I do. When I
was little, Vegas felt like something out of a fairy tale. Like you could drink
a magic potion and everything would be like in Wonderland," Quinn said.

"And
now?"

"It’s a good
place to disappear for a while. There are so many tourists here that it is easy
to pretend to be someone else."

I drove towards
the Excalibur Casino. In the basement was a huge and silly arcade. Somehow,
looking at Quinn's face under the neon lights, going to an arcade did not feel
right.

"I know a
good bar near here. More locals than tourists, but still a fun place to be
someone else for a while," I said.

Quinn smiled and I
parked in a ramp. We walked the long block to the bar. It was a small dive bar
wedged between a large casino and a cowboy-themed restaurant. We paused for a
moment to marvel at the amount of tourists that had either packed or worn their
cowboy boots on the airplane.

"He even has
spurs. Do they allow those in the casinos?" Quinn asked.

"Luckily,
they look about as dull as he is," I said.

We headed inside
the bar and found a high-backed booth near the back. It sat across the back
wall so we both had an excellent view of the door.

"I'm going to
bet she is from North Dakota," Quinn nodded towards a particularly pale
tourist who was shivering in a tank top.

"Too bad no
one told her it gets cold in the desert at night," I said.

"This place
is bigger than I thought," Quinn observed.

I enjoyed watching
her look around the familiar bar. It had one long, scarred wooden bar, the line
of booths we sat in, two pool tables, a darts corner, and a small sunken dance
floor that remained packed at all times. The windows had steamed up from the
dancers already in motion.

"I found this
place a few years back," I said. "And you didn't think I went
out."

Quinn smiled.
"Let me guess, you came here to dance."

"Not exactly
my thing. Do you like to dance?" I asked. I could imagine her moving
easily among the gyrating people. The image was very tempting.

"Yeah. Trent
and I love, I mean, we loved to dance," Quinn said. Her eyes drifted back
to the small dance floor and I saw them go wide again. "Oh, my God. Speak
of the devil."

I signaled the
waiter to bring us two shots and two beers. Quinn looked like she definitely
needed another drink. Then, I turned to look in the direction she was staring.
I caught sight of a tall, lanky man with dyed white hair. He stuck out in the
crowd, not only for his hair, but for his wild moves. Trent was drawing as much
attention to himself as possible.

"Please tell
me that is not your ex-boyfriend," I said, even though I knew it was.

"Do you think
he's here with that guy?"

"If they
didn't come together, I would not be surprised if they left together. Shit,
sorry, Quinn."

"No, it's
alright. Obviously he's really broken up over our break-up," she said. She
pulled out her phone.

"No. Wait.
What are you doing?" I asked. I lunged across the booth for her phone, but
she pulled back.

"Just letting
him know that I'm at my parents if he wants to come and talk."

"You think
he's going to make the four-hour drive from UCLA to talk about your
relationship?" I asked.

"You would.
Wouldn't you?" Quinn said.

I was glad the
drinks arrived. Before she noticed, I tipped back both shots and signaled the
waiter for another round. Watching Quinn be tortured by an obviously awful
ex-boyfriend was going to take a high level of intoxication.

"Besides,"
Quinn said, typing furiously on her phone, "he's not in L.A., he's here.
So it would be easy for him to tell me he was already on his way. You know,
play the hero."

Trent's flailing
arms dropped when she pressed send. In the midst of the dance floor, he pulled
his phone from his pocket and checked it. A pleased smile spread across his
face before he shoved the phone back in his pocket without a response.

Quinn grabbed her
beer with both hands and groaned into the foam. "Oh God, of course. He
doesn't even care. Did you see that smile? All he cares about is that I still
have feelings for him."

"Do
you?" From where I sat, he looked like a grade A douchebag.

"Yes. No. We
were never really that serious but it still hurts, you know? He just used me to
feed his ego," Quinn said. She picked up the pint and took a long drink.
"Hey, didn't you order shots?"

I laughed.
"Yeah, they're on their way. So, besides getting drunk, what are you going
to do?"

She took another
long drink. "I suppose you would not help me with a
Coyote Ugly
type take-over, would you?"

"Sweetheart,
there is not enough alcohol in this bar for that," I said. "I'm sure
there are other ways you could make him jealous. Is he really worth that much
effort?"

She looked back at
the dance floor. Trent was sandwiched between two enthusiastic girls while
flirting with the man over their heads. "He was always the life of the
party."

"That's a
terrible reason to stay with someone," I said.

"Yeah, I
know. I guess it was just sort of effortless," Quinn said. "We got
together, had fun, and never fought."

"Until you
caught him with another guy."

The shots arrived
and Quinn grabbed hers immediately. "Yeah, there is that. Ugh, I can't get
that out of my head."

"This might
help. Cheers," I said. We knocked back the shots. "Alright, now that
you've had that, I have to say he looks like a complete asshat."

Quinn laughed.
"That's exactly what Sienna said. She made me promise she could be there
when he met our parents. Can you imagine?"

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