Wrecked by the Bad Boy: The Sick MC

by Olivia Stephens

  The ride to the pool hall was warm and serene. I always felt better on my bike. I felt even better when I had a beautiful girl behind me. That must’ve been the eighth time I’d thought about Sasha already, and it was still the morning.

  Armand’s Billiards was pretty empty, though that was normal for this time of day. It was an all-night billiards hall, and I’d seen it at every hour. Late morning was when the few tourists who somehow managed to get lost in this part of town would stop in for a drink and ogle the locals. Not that there were many locals. The couple of drunks who sat at the bar until the real bars opened downtown mostly kept to themselves, and the other patrons were normally drifters I didn’t recognize.

  I grabbed my favorite table and began to practice, sinking ball after ball with perfect precision. The regional billiards championships were coming up damn fast, and I was a favorite to win them this year. The money from that might not be much to shake a stick at, twenty grand, but it would be another feather in my cap. And, as always, there would be plenty of hustle going on, and a filthy spot of gambling too. Who knew where I’d end up in all of it?

  Even as I chased ball after ball into the pockets, I still wasn’t alone in my happy place. Sasha’s beautiful green eyes were watching every shot. It was like she was in my head, and I actually performed better because of it. I wondered if the magic would have the same effect if she were to actually watch a game of mine.

  As I whiled away my hour of peace, it struck me just how messed up it was that I only got to experience this kind of peace for a few hours a week. The rest of the time was dedicated to dealing with the drama of the club, running the business, and now I had my psycho ex to factor in. Did she actually expect me to believe that baby was mine? She was a lunatic, through and through.

  My only hope was for my plan with Sasha to work. I believed it would. Something had to.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Sasha

  The sprawling lawn of the ULA campus greeted me like an old friend. I strolled across it, inhaling the perfume of spring flowers on the breeze with a giant smile on my face. I remembered how in my first year of college, way back in my undergrad, I realized how strange it was that I was the only one who seemed happier to be in class than not. I had hated high school, like most people, but something about post-secondary just called to me. The professors treated me like an adult, I was learning things I actually cared about, and the school itself was a bevy of wonders.

  I had done my fair share of partying, but the only time I’d ever missed a class was when I was sick. My adoration of school had hardly earned me many friends, but I didn’t care. I had a world-class education and a bright future ahead of me; everyone else could go stick it.

  Today was one of the few times I wasn’t one hundred percent on board with being on campus. I was meeting with my advisor, Doctor Edward Gorman. He had been the lecturer in a few of my undergrad classes and had seemed the obvious choice when I decided to take my masters. It often seemed there wasn’t a thing he didn’t know about anthropology. He’d written enough books on the topic to fill a bookshelf. When I applied to take my doctorate, having him on my side would be the kind of boost that most students could only dream of.

  That didn’t mean I liked him very much. He liked me, probably more than was appropriate. I always batted away his flirtations with tact and respect. I didn’t just dislike him because he wanted to sleep with me, though. He was the cockiest asshole I’d ever met, especially since he was middle aged and had an ever-expanding waistline. He knew he was brilliant, though, and that his impressive resume could be waved at almost any obstacle in his way. I knew for a fact that he’d slept with several of his students over the years. They all thought he was brilliant and that some of it would rub off on them if they hung around long enough. I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn he was selling better grades for the price of a good time, though.

  Nevertheless, he was my ticket to academic grace. Though I knew being around him wouldn’t mean I got smarter by proxy, he often shared amazing ideas and insights into my work. And he was always happy to see me.

  I stepped through the double doors at the front of the brick building Edward’s office was located in. The sunlight streamed through the windows in shafts of gold, lighting up the dusty interior and making the building seem so much friendlier than it did other times. Even that failed to brighten my darkening mood. I wasn’t in the mood for Edward today. I had a lot on my mind, and—for what was probably the first time ever—didn’t particularly want to think about or discuss my thesis.

  At the top of the stairs and two doors down, Edward’s door was ajar. I knocked anyway, and his high voice said, “Come in!”

  Inside, he was seated behind his desk, reading glasses perched on his nose as he glowered at the computer screen before him. I slipped in, leaving the door open, and took the seat in front of his desk. He clicked something on his screen and turned to me with a smile, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

  “Sasha! My favorite grad student.” He smiled, revealing crooked, yellow teeth. Besides that, he was handsome enough for his age. Sure, a bit pudgy, but he had a full head of hair and a pair of cornflower blue eyes that I could see some women being attracted to. Maybe.

  “Edward,” I replied, my own smile lengthening. “How are you?”

  He sunk back into his chair further, crossing his arms over his chest as if in thought. The metal squeaked and groaned, noises that he was clearly used to. It would have driven me half crazy if I had a chair that did that. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t just buy a new one, but then again this was also the man who’d been using the same outdated computer since the first time I came into his office, and likely for at least a few centuries beforehand. I could hear it now, creaking away like there was a hamster on a wheel inside of it. The monstrosity of a monitor took up nearly half his desk. It was a wonder he ever got any work done.

  “I’ve been better, I’ll admit.” He gave me a weak shrug. “Students have been inundating me with emails about their exam marks, and my bloody TAs are complaining they still need at least another week to mark them. You know how it is.”

  No, I didn’t. I doubted he even answered any of these emails in the first place, so I wasn’t sure why that would be a stressor on him. But I smiled and said, “Well, it will all be over soon. You’re not teaching any summer classes this year, are you?”

  He laughed and waved a hand at me. “Of course not. I’m far too busy for that.”

  Far too important, he meant. I doubted anyone who passed off the entirety of their marking to two overworked TAs would need to dedicate too much of their time to teaching. Especially since I knew for a fact, he’d been using the same slides for years. They were great slides, sure, but it still annoyed me how much he liked to whine about how hard his life was.

  “And how are you, my dear?” He looked about ready to prop his feet up on the desk. “Been up to much since our last meeting?”

  We’d met a couple of weeks ago, and barring yesterday’s excitement I certainly hadn’t been up to much. I didn’t want to tell him about Zane, though. That was none of his business. So instead I simply said, “Same old at the flower shop.” I mimicked his shrug. “They wilt and we get new ones.”

  He chuckled at my horrible joke. “Isn’t that the way of life, hmm?”

  I was anxious to get to work, so I pulled out my most recent draft and set it in front of him. “You had a look via email, right?” I asked. “You said you had some concerns.”

  He nodded and picked up the stapled stack of papers, rifling through. “Yes, but let me just have another look.” His eyes began to scan the page. Was he seriously going to read through the whole thing again? Right here? Right now? I suppressed an eye roll. I didn’t have time for this. Surely he didn’t have time for it either! It was pushing forty pages now. I would be here all day!

  Edward was unfazed by my internal rage. He was in his own world now, eyes sca
nning the page behind those thick reading glasses like each word was a treat, like he hadn’t already read it several times through several drafts and additions. I numbly sat back and pulled out my phone, checking first my texts, then my Facebook, and then the weather. I didn’t have any texts from Zane, but that was expected. We’d agreed not to text unless necessary since Asa might steal and check his phone. It all felt very covert, and I wasn’t sure how that made me feel yet. Like a side piece? Like a mistress? Like a whore?

  Ugh. I’ll take things I don’t want to think about for one thousand, Alex.

  As the seconds crept into minutes, I began to zone out. I started thinking about Zane, though I was selective in my approach. The Zane in my head had no crazy ex-girlfriend and no equally crazy plan to get rid of her. He was all about me and nothing but me. He told me all the sweet things that I longed to hear from him, all the while fucking me in the way that I already had been. It was a wonderful combo. I had felt the heat between my thighs before I realized how inappropriate it was to be this turned on in my thesis advisor’s office.

  Thankfully, Edward had sped read through my draft. He dropped it down onto the desk almost as soon as I tore myself away from my little fantasy, and I was grateful for it.

  “I think you’re doing great, Sasha,” he said. He took the glasses off his face and folded them, placing them gently on the burnished wooden surface of the desk. There wasn’t much clutter, which made him a different creature from most of his colleagues. I didn’t know a single professor whose desk wasn’t littered with papers and pens and other detritus. Besides him, of course.

  “Thanks, Edward.” I smiled. The praise felt exceptional coming from a mind such as his; another reason why I had chosen him as my advisor.

  “I can really see you’ve taken my thoughts from our last meeting into consideration.” He nodded approvingly. “I have only a couple notes that I think could make this draft more solid. And I think I can help flesh out that last piece of your argument that I know you’ve been struggling with.”

  My heart leaped. I had been struggling. All the evidence we had for Neanderthals and their way of life could probably have fit into one room. It would’ve had to be a large room, but you get my point. Though my thesis was a labor of love, and I’d chosen such a difficult topic because I knew it would be more interesting to me than anything slightly easier, it wasn’t without its frustrations. The primary one, of course, was the lack of evidence. The secondary one was my near constant struggle to interpret the evidence using factual methods, as opposed to my gut feelings.

  That’s where Edward came in, lots of the time. The paper was nearly finished, but it still needing tweaking toward the end. I had an unfinished thought on the reason behind the Neanderthals dying out that I hadn’t found a way to support with any factuality yet.

  Edward and I spent the next hour discussing his thoughts and exchanging ideas. I was so excited by the end of it that I practically bounded out of his office to go write the damn thing. But it seemed he wasn’t quite done with me yet.

  “Hold up, Miss Walker,” he said.

  I’d just begun to pack up my things and now stared at him quizzically. “What’s the matter?” The conversation had been over, as far as I was concerned. There was little else to be done besides researching and writing out the notes I’d taken.

  He gave me a lukewarm smile and leaned forward in his chair. I hated when he did that. Yellowing teeth didn’t look that way because the mouth they were in was well taken care of.

  “I think you and I should continue discussing your thesis over dinner tonight,” he said. “I’m incredibly excited to have such a bright and charming young brain to pick about these matters. I also feel I would enjoy getting to know you a little better, besides the aforementioned bright and charming brain you possess.”

  I had to physically iron out my mouth muscles so he didn’t see me scowl at his suggestion. I would go for dinner with Edward Gorman right after hell froze over, and McDonald’s stopped making commercials that made their food look delicious.

  “I can’t tonight,” I replied. My scowl threatened to turn into a smile. “I have plans.”

  I loved that I didn’t have to lie. Sure, my plans weren’t exactly something I was looking forward to. I mean, who actually wants to go pretend to be a therapist in order to help fix the guy they liked’s ex-girlfriend? But I sure preferred doing that to going out with Edward. I was grateful for all his help, truly. Probably about as grateful as a person could be. But hell if I’d give him any opportunity to try and take things to “the next level” with us. In only a few weeks, I’d be finished my thesis and out of his life permanently. I only had to stop him from trying to get with me before then, thus stopping me having to turn him down spectacularly.

  Okay, it wouldn’t be spectacular. In my mind, though, I usually threw a drink in his face. It would never happen because then I wouldn’t get my letter of recommendation, but it was a satisfying fantasy nonetheless. I respected him as an academic, but I did not respect him as a person. Sleeping with students was just plain tacky.

  “Really?” Edward looked surprised. I supposed even the professor knew that I wasn't much of a social butterfly. “What’s so important that it’s got you abandoning your books tonight?”

  The light-hearted jibe might have been funny if he hadn’t been the one to say it. “I have a date, actually.” I tried not to look too smug.

  Edward’s face morphed with irritation. Was it really that awful of me to go on a date? He had to know there wasn't a chance that he would ever get into my bed, right? “Who is he? Or she?”

  “He’s a guy who came into my work,” I answered simply, intending to leave it at that. I opened my mouth to say goodbye, but Edward interrupted me.

  “What does he do for a living? Did he go to school?”

  I frowned. Those were far too personal questions for my advisor to be asking. I decided to play it off politely. “I don’t know yet, silly.” I smiled and rose from my chair, ignoring his obvious irritation at my doing so. “We only just met.”

  Edward shot up with me. I blinked in my confusion and stilled like I was being pursued by a predator. That was a silly thought, right? Edward would never harm me. Could he even? I evaluated him. Now at his full height, he was an inch or two taller than me. And definitely wider. But there was no telling if he’d even be fit enough for a fight.

  Why was I thinking this? It was crazy!

  “Surely you must know something about him,” Edward drawled. The way he said it clearly implied that if I knew nothing, I was a fool. It was an implication I did not take lightly.

  “I know he’s the president of a motorcycle club,” I said. I figured it was the only piece of info I could use that might make him back off. It worked.

  Edward sat back down leisurely as if he’d only gotten up because it was polite. I kept my smile on my face, though inside I was churning with anger. How dare he? I nearly ran out of his office after making the appropriate polite goodbyes, but my anger didn’t dissipate as I stomped across campus.

  He dared because he knew that there was nothing I could do about it. Nothing. He could say whatever he wanted, and I would hang idly by because I knew without his letter of recommendation, I could kiss getting into a good doctorate program goodbye. I could kiss my bright future goodbye.

  Well, at least tonight I got to be a pretend doctor for a while. And maybe afterward, Zane and I could play doctor.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Zane

  It was a long day. After a brief period of relaxation at the pool hall, I went into the shop and spent the rest of my day wrangling my guys into doing what they were supposed to be doing, balancing the books for the shop, and in general being pissy. I had agreed to meet with Sasha just after seven at the pool hall, but by six thirty I couldn't take it anymore and jumped ship for better climes.

  I only got a few minutes of shooting in before she texted me that she was outside, but it was enough to calm me d
own. It wouldn’t have been fair to bark at her just because I’d had a shit day. She was the one good thing about my day. Or, at least, I hoped she would be.

  Truth be told, I had no idea what this session with Asa was going to be like. I only hoped that she wouldn’t figure out that it was all a ruse. I’d spent a decent amount of money furnishing Sasha’s basement as a therapist’s office, though, so I had pretty high hopes. Yes, it was more money out of my leaving fund, but the cost was significantly lower than what it might take to raise a kid. Or at least have to deal with Asa for the few months it would take to have the kid, and then get a paternity test that proved I wasn’t the father.

  Everything else was just details.

  Sasha looked beautiful. Thankfully, she’d already had professional clothes in her closet. It tickled me to think that she could go from sex goddess to stern businesswoman with just a black pantsuit, an austere bun, and some glasses. It was downright sexy. I wanted to hold her by the bun and take her, make her mine. By the look on her face when I stepped out of the hall, though, she already was.