by Jackie Lau
The Professor Next Door
Cider Bar Sisters, Book 3
Jackie Lau
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, companies, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 Jackie Lau. All Rights Reserved.
First edition: June 2021
ISBN: 978-1-989610-20-6
Editor: Latoya C. Smith, LCS Literary Services
Cover Design: Flirtation Designs
Cover photograph: Adobe Stock
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Meet Nicole & David...
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by Jackie Lau
Meet Nicole & David...
Nicole Louie-Edwards enjoys the nightlife and bringing men back to her apartment, although lately, she’s gotten tired of the chase. Her quiet new neighbor, David Cho, isn’t her type, but after they get trapped in an elevator together on her birthday, she develops a friendship with the kind geology professor.
Then, blushing, he tells her that he can hear her having sex but tries not to listen. Except it’s clear he’d like to, and she’s surprisingly turned on. They embark on a friends-with-benefits arrangement hotter than any she’s had before. She didn’t expect him to be so naughty between the sheets.
David becomes a bigger part of her life outside of the bedroom, too, bringing her desserts and going viral on TikTok with her grandmother, but she can’t imagine he wants to be her boyfriend, and it’s not like she wants that, either. She’s convinced she’d lose her identity in a relationship, like she did ten years ago.
Yet she can’t help getting more and more attached to the professor next door...
Chapter 1
“I’ve met someone.”
Nicole Louie-Edwards had been about to haul Roy into her apartment and kiss him. But then he’d placed his hand on her shoulder and uttered those words.
Not again.
Why did this keep happening to her?
The problem wasn’t that she had a crush on Roy. The man was a competent lover—Nicole’s standards were reasonably high—and had beefy arms that she liked to grab. They’d gotten together five times now and had fun between the sheets.
But it was just sex.
The problem? “Just sex” wasn’t as easy as it used to be.
Nicole was tired of finding new partners. Tired of pulling up Tinder and hitting on men at bars. She wanted sex without the chase. Except she regularly had to find new sex partners because they kept falling in love with other women—this was the fourth time in the past year.
Why can’t they fall in love with me?
Nicole shouldn’t be thinking such things. It wasn’t like she wanted a relationship; sex without love was better. She’d learned her lesson a decade ago. Her life now was a vast improvement over what she’d had before, but some foolish part of her wanted to be the object of someone’s affections. Have the chance to gently let them down.
She forced a bright smile. “That’s okay, Roy. I understand.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I knew you’d be cool about it. I wasn’t looking for anyone, you know? Like I told you. But then I saw her at the wedding. Just from the back—she was wearing a gorgeous purple dress—and she was laughing. And I knew, even before she turned around.”
Nicole refrained from rolling her eyes.
Love at first sight. How cute.
“Anyway,” he said, “we got to talking later, and I asked her out. She said yes! We have our first date tonight. She’s a teacher...”
Roy prattled on about Ms. Purple Dress, but Nicole’s attention was diverted by the East Asian man walking down the hall, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He stopped at the unit next to hers and put his key in the lock. It was the first time she’d seen her new neighbor, though he’d lived here for a couple of months.
The man was about six feet tall and lean, with a kind but serious face. Maybe a few years older than her?
He wasn’t bad-looking, but he wasn’t her type. Lately, she’d been going for bulkier guys, ones who were about five years younger than her thirty-three years.
According to Mrs. Kim, he lived alone, but to Nicole, he looked like a husband. It was easy to imagine him coming home after a long day at the office and planting a chaste kiss on his spouse’s cheek after slipping off his shoes. He was definitely the sort who’d work in an office, not in construction like Roy.
“Sorry,” Roy said. “This probably isn’t very interesting to you.”
Nicole turned back to her former no-strings-attached sex partner, who was wearing a big winter jacket, unzipped, over his flannel shirt. He had cropped hair and a bushy beard.
Yeah, he was more her type.
“It’s okay,” she said, giving him a bland smile. “I’m happy for you. I hope you have a good date tonight.”
“You’re a great person, Nicole. I’m sure you’ll find someone soon.”
For some silly reason, her gaze strayed to the right, where her new neighbor had disappeared behind his door, before returning to Roy.
“I don’t want a relationship.” She just wanted a guy who’d come over to fuck once or twice a week. Was that too much to ask?
“I didn’t think I did, either. And now look at me. It’ll happen for you, too.”
Well, Roy was high on love, how nice for him.
They said their goodbyes, and Nicole closed the door. She took off the tight jeans and slinky red shirt she’d put on for Roy and changed into yoga pants and a T-shirt. She’d wear nicer clothes when she went out with her friends tonight, but there was no need now.
Why can’t I break someone’s heart? Just once?
Nicole didn’t actually want to hurt anyone. She just wanted to know she could be loved. Wanted to be desired for more than her looks.
But it never happened, and she was starting to feel like something was wrong with her.
No. She would not let herself feel that way. She had a job she was good at. She got along with her family and friends.
She just needed a fuck buddy who wouldn’t fall in love with someone else two weeks later, and life would be perfect.
* * *
At six o’clock, Nicole pulled on her tall black boots and headed to Finch Station.
A year ago, she’d moved to this new building south of Yonge and Finch; before that, she’d lived in the west end. It was a bit of a trek to the cider bar that she frequented with her friends, but she liked where she lived. Lots of great Asian restaurants, and it was closer to her parents and sibling.
Once on the subway, she pulled out her e-reader. At Ossington, she switched to a bus; she’d normally walk, but it was a frigid January d
ay.
When she arrived at Ossington Cider Bar, her friends Sierra Wu and Rose Pang were already there. They had a table near the back, where they wouldn’t be blasted by cold air every time someone opened the door.
“Hey, Nicole,” Rose said in her cheerful, quiet voice as she pulled out a chair. “They have your blackberry nectarine cider on tap.”
“Excellent,” Nicole said.
“How are you?”
“Not too bad.”
These were her closest friends, but Nicole didn’t tell them what had been on her mind.
No, she was the kick-ass career woman who enjoyed sex and took what she wanted.
“You moved in okay?” Nicole asked.
This was the first time she’d seen her friends since Rose had moved in with Sierra, in the semi-detached house in the Annex owned by their friend Amy Sharpe. Amy had inherited it from her great aunt, but since getting married, she’d moved in next door with her husband.
Speaking of Amy...
“Hey, everyone!” Amy was perky, as usual. She pulled off her toque—complete with pom-pom—and sat down next to Nicole. “So, do I get to hear your news now, Sierra?”
“You have news?” Nicole asked Sierra. “Are you finally going to tell us who you’re dating, or is it something else?”
“I’m finally telling you,” Sierra said.
“You won’t believe who it is!” Rose exclaimed.
“Rose already knows?” Nicole asked.
Sierra shrugged. “We live together.”
“So, who is it?”
“I’m not saying anything until Charlotte arrives.”
“Boo, you’re no fun.”
Charlotte Tam was usually punctual, but she didn’t arrive for another twenty-five minutes, until Nicole had drunk half her cider and the waiter was placing a bowl of mussels in front of her. The mussels in tomato–white wine broth were delicious, and they were served with a crusty baguette and lots of butter. She slathered butter on a piece of bread and had a bite.
Then she noticed something about her friend.
“Charlotte, your shirt’s inside out. And you have sex hair.”
Charlotte scowled. “Goddammit. It’s so hard to put on proper clothes and leave the apartment.”
“Did you stop at Mike’s on the way here?”
Charlotte mumbled something incoherent before heading to the washroom to fix her shirt. Nicole couldn’t help but chuckle.
Once Charlotte returned and ordered one of her disgusting dry ciders, Nicole turned to Sierra. “Now will you tell us?”
Sierra wiped her mouth and had a sip of cider. “I’m dating Colton Sanders.”
Nicole choked on a mussel. “The Colton Sanders?” she croaked.
“You mean the hotshot real estate developer?” Charlotte asked. “The billionaire?”
“Yep,” Sierra said.
There was a minute of silence as they all absorbed this information, and then they bombarded Sierra with questions.
“How did you meet?”
“Does he take you on fancy dates?”
“Doesn’t he have a private jet? Have you been on it?”
“Is his place on the Bridle Path really as nice as I’ve heard?”
“Does he treat you properly?”
The last question was Nicole’s, and it sounded awfully hoarse. She still hadn’t recovered from choking on that mussel.
“Don’t worry,” Sierra assured her. “He treats me well, and next weekend we’re going to Italy together. And yes, we’ll take his private jet.”
Sierra had been dating this mystery guy since September. She’d probably avoided telling them because she’d anticipated all these questions.
“Isn’t he, like, supposed to be the most eligible bachelor in Toronto?” Amy asked.
“Are you saying he’s too good for me?”
Amy reared back. “No, no, not at all. Of course I don’t think that.”
Nicole didn’t, either. In fact, her asshole detector went off whenever she saw pictures of Colton Sanders, but if Sierra said he was a good boyfriend, she believed her.
A part of her felt just a bit...well, sad.
Nicole wasn’t envious of her friends who were coupled up, not exactly, she liked her life the way it was, but...
It’s your own fault nobody falls in love with you. You have to think positive!
She shoved aside that voice in her head. Her mother’s voice, even if her mother no longer had the same outlook on life that she used to.
When Nicole had been younger, she’d been made to feel like everything that happened to her was her own damn fault. There was no such thing as luck.
She didn’t find herself falling into those thought patterns often now. Just occasionally.
Once Sierra had tired of answering questions about Colton and they’d all finished their meals, Nicole ordered a brownie with vanilla ice cream—because why not—plus another blackberry nectarine cider, which made Charlotte wrinkle her nose.
Charlotte, on the other hand, ordered a mocha, and after a fortifying sip of caffeine, she turned to Nicole. “Could you take me on another shopping trip? I need acceptable clothes—”
“You mean something other than pajamas and shirts with bad geology puns.”
“—to wear on dates with Mike. And maybe some...you know.” Charlotte lowered her voice, as though about to reveal a deep, dark secret. “Lingerie. Sexy lingerie.”
Nicole’s eyes widened.
“Shut up,” Charlotte muttered.
“I didn’t say anything,” Nicole said.
“You wanted to.”
“But I didn’t.”
“Are you going to help me or not?”
“Of course I’ll help you. But the last time we went to the Eaton Centre, you said, and I quote, ‘No fucking way am I going in there again, not even if I’m being attacked by a kraken. Not even if it’s the only safe place in the zombie apocalypse.’”
“Pretty sure I didn’t say that.”
Nicole waved her hand away from her. “Close enough.”
Her dessert arrived, and as she savored the warm, rich chocolate brownie, her previous sadness evaporated. She was out with her friends from university, and there was a shopping trip on the horizon. She couldn’t wait to tease Charlotte about thongs and—
Why, hello, there.
A man set down at the next table. He looked like a broader version of Dev Patel, and he was checking her out, too.
Nicole winked at him.
He said something to his friends, then got to his feet.
Yes, tonight was looking up.
Chapter 2
Thump. Thump.
David Cho’s neighbor was having sex.
When he’d bought this place, he hadn’t realized it had such thin walls. His bedroom shared a wall with his neighbor’s bedroom, and this was the fifth time he’d heard her having sex. The moaning should start right about...
“Ahhh. Yes.”
...now.
He’d seen her for the first time that afternoon when he’d come back from the pool. David didn’t care for the gym, but he’d been swimming laps on the weekend for years. Usually, he went earlier in the morning, but he’d been a bit late today because he’d had to do a repair job on his washing machine. When he’d returned, she’d been talking to a man just outside her door.
Until then, he’d had no idea what she looked like or how old she was. He hadn’t thought too much about her appearance. Just how she’d feel in his hands, how she’d make him feel—
No! This was all wrong. Inappropriate.
He shouldn’t even be listening. He should immediately head out to the living room, as he’d done the past four times. Two weeks ago, he’d read a book about the Cambrian explosion for half an hour before returning to his bedroom.
He didn’t understand it. He’d heard other people having sex, and it had always made him uncomfortable, but with her, it made him both uncomfortable and turned on.
Dav
id flipped on the lights and ran a hand over his sweaty brow.
Knowing what she looked like definitely didn’t help. She was a few inches shorter than him and voluptuous. She had long, dark brown hair and dark eyes, and she’d been wearing a red shirt that did great things to her ample breasts, though he’d tried not to look.
The man she was with right now—was it the white guy whom David had seen earlier? He figured there must have been at least a few men over the past several weeks, because the sounds of her partners varied, and he’d seen a different man leaving her place last month.
He thought of her as a wild, sensual, fun-loving woman. Nothing like him, in other words. Why, today, after getting back from the pool, he’d cooked lunch, done some prep for his lectures next week, and made notes on a paper he’d agreed to review. Then he’d had dinner, read a bit, and watched a movie while drinking a mug of tea.
All in all, it hadn’t been a bad day, but if he’d been able to end it with her in his bed...
When he heard another moan, it went straight to his cock.
He was a thirty-nine-year-old man. He shouldn’t be hard as corundum because the woman next door was having sex. It wasn’t like he could even hear very much.
His imagination, however, was adept at filling in all the gaps. For some reason, his imagination was extra active where she was involved, no matter how guilty he felt about letting it run wild.
Thump. Thump.
He looked toward their shared wall and thought he detected the tiniest movements in the rock collection on his dresser. Most things would be just fine, but the ammonite in its display stand...well, he’d have to find another spot for that.
He couldn’t believe it. The sex life of his next-door neighbor was threatening the safety of his rock and fossil collection.
David moved a few choice items to his bookshelf in the living room. Better for them to be out here anyway. On the off chance he had company and that company liked rocks, it would give them something to talk about.
Having ensured the safety of his ammonite, he returned to the bedroom.
“Ohhhh.”
It was her, not her partner.
David wished he could be the one who caused her to make those sounds.
